I went with a friend to the local Renaissance Faire last week, and there was a vendor selling, among other things, "heads-on-a-stick"  that she had made from polymer clay. She did not have a business card or even a name on her tent, so I don't know who to credit for the idea.  I thought it was funny though, and she inspired me...

So Zelda was born from some odds and ends in my gourd room.  Her head is a small gourd mounted on an old paintbrush handle. She has strips of ribbon for hair with some added feathers and some pieces of an old dusty fake flower arrangement that I tore apart. Her scarf is a scrap of material. She is sitting amongst my house plants and enjoys looking out the window.

A Season Apart

September is a subtle season all its own

Golden glow of field and forest yields to

Full-fledged Autumn's

          scarlet exhibitionism

Jack-o-lanterns

Headless horsemen

Vampire-witch-zombie-princess-ninja-

Candy Mania

Halloween displays       side by side

          with decorations to celebrate

          the birth of the Christian god's son

Semtember's simple flourish forgotten

The taste of sweet apple cider

lingering on my tongue

I had the weirdest experience the other day while walking on the river trail in the park. The river was completely still, no movement, no ripples. And all the trees were reflected in it so clearly. I had stopped walking to gaze into the reflection. It was quite disorienting. It was like looking into a deep canyon filled with trees, only upside down!

I thought about what it would be like to dive into the reflection. Would I feel the silky caress of water on my skin and bubbles around me...then sense my fingers slide through squishy mud and rough sand on the river bottom? Would I have to keep my eyes closed in the opaque water?

Or would I really be diving up and feel the wind ruffle my hair, hear leaves swish past my face, ascend into the realm of the Nephelae? Hopefully, not crash into any large tree limbs on my way up :o)    Was it a portal? I can not express how strongly I had to resist diving in!  Well, I did not take the plunge, so I guess I will never know.

But stranger still, after I returned to my car and checked the time, it was an extra hour later than it should have been. That trail always takes me an hour to walk, and it had taken two hours. Now I really don't think I was staring into the river for an entire hour.

Have any of you ever had an experience like this?

Earlier this summer I noticed a flurry of activity around my hanging basket of geraniums.  I discovered a pair of house finches building a nest in the flower pot. Unfortunately, the pot is only a few feet from my front door. Poor Mama Finch – every time someone went in or out the door, she would fly to the nearby tulip tree and loudly squawk her displeasure. I even gave up watering the geraniums so as not to disturb her further. I was afraid the babies would never hatch. But they did!

I waited until Mama and Papa weren’t around to take these photos. I used the zoom, stood up on tiptoe and held the camera over my head. It took several tries to even aim it right. I didn’t want to get too close and traumatize the little ones.

At first there were only two. Their beaks seemed huge compared to their tiny, featherless bodies. I think baby birds grow into their beaks like a puppy grows into its paws.

Now there were four fledglings. Within a few days after this picture was taken, they were all flying.

I was lucky enough to see one take his first wobbly flight to my Rose-of-Sharon, where he posed.

These are the proud parents.

I was looking at some of the photos I took in the woods last week, and just saw this in the upper right hand corner of the photo.  It looks like a heart-shaped faery orb. I snapped several photos, one immediately before and after this one, and this is the only picture that shows it. Maybe just a trick of the light. What do you think?