flame and reflection

flame and reflection

of flame -- a pillar burning

without and within

Reflection on reflections. A reflection is a flip over a line. This virtual line is called the Mirror Line. It divides the "real" object from its reflected image. Every point in the object and its reflection is the same distance from the Mirror Line line and the reflection has the same size as the original object. In this reflection, we see two candles, one burning on the window sill and the other burning inside the frame of a photograph, lighting up the image of a pear in the center of a coil of rope. The photograph, of course, is an image of an object. And the photograph of the photograph is an image of an image.

following sunshine

following sunshine

wild geese migrate as the Earth

tilts on its axis

Rain followed by delicate crystals, the first snowpack of the season. Any kind of moisture is welcome in this dry winter following a dry summer. More flocks of Canada geese flying low at sunset, looking for a pond for the night. A cluster of geese detaches from a ragged formation to join a group of fellow travelers standing on the ice, swimming in the open water, or sleeping on the snowy bank with their heads tucked into their backs. At the same time, a few pairs take off to join the flocks flying on, driven by the urge to follow the light as the northern hemisphere leans back towards the Sun.
          At the contra dance Saturday night, I meet Davie, a young man with a new face, long brown hair, brown overalls and a dragon tattoo on his forearm. He's a good dancer, into spinning the ladies and willing to dance the ladies' part. He also turns out to be a good caller, introducing several advanced dances. At the break I ask him where he lives. 
          "In my truck," Davie says with a grin. 
          "Just passing through?"
          "I'm visiting my parents for the winter. I grew up here. Now I'm a migrant farm worker. When the weather warms up, I'll head out to California, stay with my brother." He pauses, then adds, "Maybe I should go to Bimini."
          "Ah, yes, the Mother of Many Waters. I've never been to the Bahamas. Must be nice to be free to go wherever you want, whenever you want."
          "It's nice to have a home, too," Davie replies.
          "Nice to have two homes," I say, and we both smile.

wild geese flying north

wild geese flying north,

groundhog doesn't see its shadow,
spring is on its way

The second day of February. Should be the middle of winter, but flocks of Canada geese are flying north at sunset. Maybe they heard the weather report from the shadowless groundhog predicting that spring is on its way. However, the human meterologist predicts snow tomorrow. What's a wild goose supposed to do? Hang around to avoid bad flying weather, or miss the best nesting spots?

ice crystal halo

ice crystal halo

around gibbous moon tinged red --

the air smells like snow

Tonight there's a huge, thick white ring of light around the waxing gibbous moon, caused by a veil of cirrus clouds composed of ice crystals refracting the moonlight. My eyes, but not my camera, can take in the enormous corona. When I hold up my hands spread wide at arm's length, my thumbs meet the red-tinged moon in the middle while my little fingers graze the perimeter of the circle. The space between the moon and this 22 degree ice halo appears darker than the rest of the sky. Down on the ground the air smells like snow.

fish backbones, mare's tails

fish backbones, mare's tails,

albino peacock feathers,

ice crystal fallstreaks

The Artist is painting the cerulean dome today with delicate, celestial brushstrokes -- ethereal cirrus clouds composed entirely of ice crystals that cascade through the high winds of the upper troposphere. The fallstreaks look like white locks of angel's hair, swan's wings, albino peacock tails, white mare's tails or the bleached backbones of fish, cirrus vertebratus.

shadow, no shadow

shadow, no shadow --

fog in the morning, midday

sun, clouds at sunset

Groundhog Day. According to folklore, if it's cloudy on the second day of February, spring is on its way, but if it's sunny the woodchuck will see its shadow, bolt back into its burrow and there will be six more weeks of winter. We've hardly had any winter to begin with, so if the woodchuck saw its shadow today it would more likely mean the start of winter. 
          However, it's hard to say whether the groundhog saw its shadow today or not. The day begins with thick fog, so if the woodchuck is up early, no shadow and spring is just around the corner. But by midday the fog has cleared and the sun is shining, casting shadows everywhere and frightening the groundhog back into its burrow. In the afternoon, the delicate cirrus clouds spread and thicken into cirrostratus, obscuring the setting sun, so no shadow and we're in for snow.
          The weather report predicts snow tomorrow, but then this is the Midwest, so you never know.

sky is an ocean

sky is an ocean

of undulating currents, 

sand ripples in clouds 

Waves and clouds are cousins, both moved by currents in the vast oceans of water and air enveloping the Earth. On the ground, only a little breeze. Overhead, in the space between the county courthouse and the civic center, two airstreams are moving at different speeds and directions, shearing the high flying cirrocumulus clouds into undulating ripples, like water on sand. In addition to cirrocumulus undulatus, a second layer of cirrus clouds crossing on the diagonal below adds an extra dimension, duplicatus.