metal rust patterns

metal rust patterns

on an old combine become

nature's works of art

A 1915 Red River Special combine rests in a little clearing between a cornfield and a colony of cattails overlooking Highway 34. A US flag flaps in the wind on the front of the combine, marking the antique machine as a monument to American farming. You have to stop, climb the hill and get up close to see how time and moisture have weathered all parts of the machine, especially the sheet metal. The slow decline into entropy has formed rust patterns that look like abstract works of art, all done by Nature's infinite creativity.

hundreds of flags cast

hundreds of flags cast

long shadows -- a young boy hangs

onto one gold pole

11/11/11: the peace treaty ending World War I was signed at the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918. Today is another 11/11/11, only this time it's the 11th day of the 11th month in 2011, and now we celebrate it as Veteran's Day, in honor of all the veterans who have served in all the wars. On the town square, a statue of an old man, who could be a Civil War veteran, sits on a bench, talking with a young boy. Perhaps he is telling him stories about the war. A little boy dressed in red, white and blue stands by the bandstand, surrounded by hundreds of American flags, hanging onto one gold flagpole, as if he is holding it up. Today, all those flags, casting long shadows from the past, are sending prayers with the wind for the end of all war.

red rose after rain

red rose after rain

unfolding delicately

furled inner petals 

The rose bush outside our door keeps on blooming no matter what the weather, hot or cold, rain or drought, sun or clouds, wind or calm. It takes a long time for the blossom to fully open, exposing its sticky stigma on the chance that some wandering pollinator will be attracted to its fragrance. Even after frosty nights, which have killed most insects and sent the honey bees into their hives, the flower keeps unfolding, the thicker outer petals protecting the delicately-furled inner petals, still determined to accomplish its mission.

opening the front door

opening the front door

a crack to let the cat in,

a buck gazing back at me

Most of the year I rarely see a buck, though sometimes I hear one snorting in the woods. They are loners and stay away from places that smell of humans. But in autumn they're suddenly everywhere. 
          One night when we were coming home on the back road, I saw green eyes and slammed on the brakes. The buck was starting to cross the highway, but when he saw my headlights he shied away, heading straight up the road, then turned and finished crossing. I was glad he didn't bolt into the truck. 
          The other morning I saw one just standing beside the gravel road, his head turning from side to side like a child looking both ways before crossing. It made me laugh, that big animal swiveling his antlers as I passed. 
          This afternoon, because it was cold, I opened the door just far enough to let our ginger cat in. Through the narrow opening I could see a magnificent buck in the yard about 20 feet away. He looked in the direction of the sound, but didn't move. I quietly retreated to fetch my camera and was able to get one good shot before he moved out of range. When I opened the door a bit more, he got suspicious and bounded into the trees, white tail raised. It's hunting season and hunters are out all around us in the harvested cornfields, but we live in a residential association that does not allow hunting. I've seen this buck several times lately, though never this close to the house. Somehow I think he knows he's safe in our territory. Maybe he can tell from our scent that we're harmless. 

big round cornstalk bales

big round cornstalk bales

wrapped in green plastic netting

in a drought-dry field

Rain yesterday, sleet this morning, now clear again. Before the rain, a long summer drought, and before that, record rains and flooding. The wet spring meant a late start in planting crops and baling hay. Then the drought meant no more hay. Grass in pastures dried up so farmers had to feed their cattle with this year's hay. By harvest time, it was clear that the yields on corn and soybeans would be low. And since hay was in short supply, some farmers chose to bale their corn for cattle feed. The tough cornstalks are hard on the baling machinery. The big round bales must be wrapped in plastic netting and cannot be left in the field like hay because the stalks do not form a thatch to protect against moisture, so they must be moved right away to a storage facility. Cornstalk bales are not as nutritious as hay, but it's better than nothing.
          Today I watch a red-tailed hawk sail down from a tall, bare tree to a harvested cornfield to snatch up a mouse. Other animals, Canada geese, crows, raccoons and whitetail deer, will also forage on the spilled corn. Deer are on the move right now, the bucks looking for mates, the does with their big fawns looking for food and shelter. While I'm driving through town, approaching a stoplight, I slow as the car ahead of me starts to turn left. Suddenly, the car swerves and brakes. A doe sails over the top of the car, legs flailing, then lands and bolts on down the street. The car drives on, so I'm hoping there was no collision. As for why the deer was walking down a busy urban street in the middle of the day, I guess when food is scarce, foraging in town is better than nothing.

ring around the moon

ring around the moon

peeking through a mackerel sky -- 

rain is on the way

On a clear evening, a gibbous moon with a pink halo winks on and off as a fleet of cottonball clouds pass by. There's an old saying: "Ring around the moon means rain soon." And sure enough, the next day a long, hard rain fell for the first time in many moons.
          A dappled patch of tiny individual cloudlets at high altitude is called cirrocumulus. Sometime the little cloudlets look like fluffy fish scales, giving the appearance of a "mackerel sky." Cirrocumulus usually move from west to east and indicate unsettled weather on the way. These high clouds contain millions of tiny ice crystals and the halo around the moon is caused by light glinting from the ice crystals. 
          Like a rainbow, a lunar halo depends on the viewer's perspective. The halo you see will not be the same as the one for the person standing next to you because the particular group of ice crystals is different for each person. Since moonlight is not very bright, lunar halos are mostly colorless, though some, like this one, are reddish on the inside and bluish on the outside. Without the cloud cover, the inner edge of the halo would appear sharp and the outer edge diffuse. 
          My personal halo looks like a pink pearl inside an oyster shell. What does it look like to you?

above the golden

above the golden

leaves of the piebald sycamore,

cloud stairs leading up

Shinny up the brown 
trunk of the sycamore. 
Climb from white 
limb to white limb 
through golden leaves. 
At the top, step onto soft 
white cloud stairs. 
Ascend into azure sky.