May 19, 2013
12:01 a.m.
Picture this.Camera in hand, I stood atop the low bluffs between Elizabethtown’s historic Rose Hotel and the broad Ohio. With luck I just might get an adequate photograph of the river, complete with floating logs, etc. While framing in, I heard a me...
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May 18, 2013
12:01 a.m.
When out looking for a rainbow to capture for posterity, or at least until next week, all I saw were pokeweeds rustling in the wind, and starlings gone ragged thanks to Time and rough weather.
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May 17, 2013
4:46 p.m.
The simple rhyme arrived at sunrise. Once back in the walled-in warmth of his living room he wrote it down.
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April 17, 2013
12:01 a.m.
Pretend you were bored to pieces in an art museum and saw this painting on the wall, and further pretend for a precious few moments, boredom faded and you were enthralled.
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April 15, 2013
12:01 a.m.
It was bound to happen sooner or later, the light late in the day would be so near to perfect it would appear all wrong, and the deer would be staring in such a way the viewer would swear he was staring at fake deer.
Everything in this photograph...
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April 14, 2013
12:01 a.m.
There I was, doing my best to get a camera shot of the deer in the distance, when all of a sudden this flock of cowbirds filled the framed scene.
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April 13, 2013
12:01 a.m.
We look at ancient drawings and carvings and wonder how did those symbols come to be? Did they emerge from dreams, or, were they first seen as fish scales, for example, or designs on snakes, turtles, and terrapins?
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April 12, 2013
1:22 p.m.
Who says cowbirds aren’t curious? This one clearly wants to know what is going on, which is proof beyond doubt at least one lowly cowbird is a lot like us.
Springhouse,
P. O. Box 8,
Herod, IL 62947...
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April 12, 2013
12:01 a.m.
Ruffling someone’s feathers, so to speak, can be cause for alarm, but if one happens to be a turkey vulture and one chooses to ruffle one’s own feathers, that’s just fine. Why do these birds do it? Ornithologists may tell us it has to do...
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April 7, 2013
12:01 a.m.
For the most part, the morning is as gray as a faded friendship, but the doves are calling, and that counts for something.
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