71 degrees and forecast of 80’s this weekend! Too soon for mosquitoes, so good afternoon on the deck. And I finally figured out all the” rat-a-tat- tatting” I’ve been hearing.
Near the top of an immature White Oak are four, clean holes from Woodpeckers feeding. The tree is in trouble and will be deadfall, condemned I think, from an overzealous HoA Contractor, limbing to prevent roof hazards.
This is the instrumental “Sunny Day” theme from Sesame Street. Killer good harmonica! All that’s missing is the Barred Owl I heard today, looking for love.
The forest and ravine I wrote about yesterday are, literally, my window. Today and tomorrow’s presentation are illuminated by the the cool, diffuse light of overcast and rain.
The copper colored leaves of this mature American Beech are like gems, set against a field of rich, new, green, immature versions. And provide a proscenium for a pair of Grey Squirrels, in a frantic arboreal chase.
This is a photograph made long ago. I made it, thinking of dancers.
Our Realtor described it as a “Tree House”. Built into a hill, two sides are forest and ravine. Out front, a large Holly I’ve shielded from the HoA landscape crew and an undefended, smaller one, sculpted to suit a Golf Course Community. Sort of a Mockingbird Motel.
I made this photograph long ago, with a long, fast lens I bought for rear of theater use. The Mockingbird, in song and flight, demanded my attention.
Today, nine years later, I was greeted with their song and “Intra-Holly flights”, arriving home from an attorney appointment. The purpose of which will pave my exit to a practical, old widower habitat. Later, savoring my afternoon Bourbon and watching Beech branches sway, one flashed by a window.
I believe Atticus was right, it is a sin to kill a Mockingbird. I will miss them.
After my refusal to succumb to the popular culture extortion of an Online Ticket Purchase (Swifties will get it), I finally get off my indignation and went to the venue’s physical Box Office. They’re open M-F, 10 AM to 2 PM. Yeah, not real convenient. No weekend hours to avoid downtown parking demand and most folks work hours. But okay for Old Widower Curmudgeons, like Moi.
Stupidly, like a hamster on a wheel, I pulled in to the Public Parking Garage I knew from photographing events in the very same venue. $10 “Event Parking”. No idea what the Event was at Noon. And my fault for not cruising a block or two, for on street availability. Sheepishly, I handed over $10 in cash while the attendant put away the mobile device and found change for my $20.
Two ladies were ahead of me at the Box Office. I was surprised to hear one recite her name, phone and eMail address at the sales clerk’s request, while swiping her credit card. The purchased tickets were entirely digital! I knew I was about to have a new adventure.
When my turn came, I told the clerk the Event, Date and Time I wanted to buy one ticket for. She asked my name and telephone number. I recited those but explained it was a Home Phone – in my case a VoIP line on an Ooma Box with the same number I’ve had for 26 years.
“No”, I was told, “What’s your cellphone number? ” I explained I did have a mobile phone but it was: A. In my truck (remember the parking garage) and B. I didn’t know the number because C. I only use it if I need AAA to come rescue me on the highway or call Duke Power or Spectrum to report outages. Haven’t used it in probably six months. Turn it on once in awhile to make sure it works and keep it charged. About $70 for the year.
She was taken aback and settled for my landline. Realizing she couldn’t issue a Digital Ticket, she Printed one for me, with the advice “Don’t lose it!”. I thought it ironic she didn’t caution the previous customer to not lose their “Phone”.
The good news was, my Ticket was almost $20 less than my aborted Online experience. Plus I had something else to do in Raleigh. And I was very careful driving in a busy city because the folks walking around staring at their phones sure weren’t looking where they were going .
True Confession: I tuned to watch the 2014 SuperBowl for the sole reason of hearing Renee Fleming sing. Football – meh.
Today, eMail brought me the 2024/2025 Paris Opera Season Programme (once you buy Tickets online, you’re on the email list).
Ms Fleming will perform next March, in 2025. If the Boss Lady was still alive, I’d be scheming to sell her that we could afford the plane tickets plus we really should visit Paris. I’d sell her with this excursion: Chihuly At Biltmore . She was a ginormous fan!
Cary Ballet Professional Training Program – Valentina Facal
ADC Studio Preview 25 Jan. 2022 – And don’t it feel good!
Prompted by a delightful conversation today with a 50 year younger neighbor while bringing in groceries. Sunshine modeled her face and I almost went into Portrait Photographer mode. Didn’t. And spared her my latest Old Guy joke.
Cary Ballet Company Spring Gala – Space & Tech Rehearsal – 13 March 2013
News of the day can make sleep, elusive. My remedy is revisiting some favorites, like this one. The digital image is medicine for my analog soul.
And thinking about it, at 3 AM, is part of a currently low priority background task running between my ears, a gestation period for writing a book about the Craft & Art of Photography. I aim to make it my task beginning next fall, and occupy me through the winter.
Like “Mac”, I’m an old dog in winter. Recently read an article about how young folk mistook the lack of a period at the end of sentence for a manager’s anger. And I still can’t begin an e-mail without “Dear”. And so it goes.
Today, I started to purchase a ticket for a Ballet Performance. After acquiescing to online, required hoop jumping, with an account creation, I discovered at “Checkout”, an additional 45%+ cost in “Fees”! Nah.
Tomorrow, I’ll try the same purchase at the venue’s Box Office, which states “No Online Fees”. We’ll see. Old Dogs have time to sniff about.
Disclaimer: There’s other old guy stuff to attend to in Raleigh. Yes, I’m old.
Goin’ to Carolina, it won’t be long and I’ll be there
Disclaimer: The previous post is a predicate to making any sense of this one.
It was December in 1998. Driving on I-77, from northern Ohio to my new job with IBM in Research Triangle Park. I was excited and hopeful.
Ohio was my cradle, where I achieved escape velocity with a Navy Enlistment. And returned to, seeking refuge from a typically poor, youthful marital decision. And left, following the death of both my and my wife’s parents.
North Carolina was my choice. Oxygen for the spirit. As Mary Oates Spratt Van Landingham described it on 6 Mar. 1900: “A Vale of Humility between Two Mountains of Conceit”, referring to North Carolina’s location between South Carolina and Virginia. I was far too familiar with South Carolina.
Twenty five plus years later, I’m at peace. Like at the Coda of a Ballet. As a Widower, the Pas de Deux is necessarily spiritual but still, genuine. I wish that was so for all.
Another excuse to get outdoors on a sunny, early spring day. Like today!
It was a Town of Cary sponsored “Kite Festival” at Bond Park. And I was surprised to get a request from “Our State” Magazine to run this -which they did – in the March 2014 issue. My first published photograph! Yeah, yeah, they had pages to fill.
Which doesn’t diminish my delight in being outdoors now, watching the top of a Long Leaf Pine, sway in a gentle breeze in a Carolina Blue sky.
The Allman Brothers explain in this freebie at the Internet Archive: “Blue Sky”
It was an excuse to get outdoors on a sunny, early spring day. Like today!
A car show. I think it was Don Bulluck Chevy in Rocky Mount. And I remember making this photograph. Had taught myself to be semi-competent with Manual Exposure! Probably, 2010.
And I remember this was in a Chevy Nova II. So ridiculously overpowered. The craft and care it took to build was clear for all to see.
Brooke's Blog 