Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Does the whistle still blow along the railroad tracks? Does the steam still whoosh around those iron wheels? Drawn to the rails like an iron filing, I yearned for a molecular rearrangement, a stretched out yesterday, I didn’t know the ache of my itinerary. Where is the frosted, yellow wheat? Where is the red sunset against that winter tree? Where is the empty creek bed? Where is the meaning of magenta? The Station’s empty now, the crowds sucked into evening, Craving the new neon, built with energy saving bulbs. An undeciphered answer hiding in the wires. Can we hear the songs of those without another spring, Slipping into their new life, plunging into colors, Bursting with new dimensions?

HO HO HO, I’m called a manhole even though, It's inaccurate now Since I’ve had to learn how To let both men and women below. Now I’m not just a cover But also a lover; (for every quid there’s a quo)

Cleopatra's Needle, probably constructed in the 1200's BC, is almost 3000 years old. I am not even a 100!  It's all a matter of scale. Here's Cleo's Needle keeping company with one of Central Park's signature lamposts. Cleopatra's Needle and a Lampost Reflection::  Trees and a Wavy Cleopatra's Needle

Look closer!  Way in among the wrinkly petals are tiny yellow star flowers.  Let me take you closer... Central Park, January Witch Hazel Miss Witch Hazel, Dressed in Ribbons

It was late that dreary afternoon when I finally got home. I walked into my  sheltered entrance and something caught my eye!  It was a dark, bluish, ballish sort of thing. As I crept closer to see what it possibly could be, it began to move!  I jumped back, and when it had settled down, it revealed a beak and what looked like tail feathers!  But what was it doing in my entrance way?  There are many warmer doorways--just ask a homeless person.  Then it dawned on me; the answer was clear.  My entrance way was color coordinated. Pigeon Disturbed in a Doorway

Winter  blowing--stiff, dry, rustling in the empty lot, Vacant, covered with weeds, Broken bottle scraps etched by the sandy summer rains. Caps with cork, buried and dented Mind splintering, rasped edges, frozen with footprints White owl swivels, vanishing into a naked tree-- I know it’s snowing! Don’t tell me! I’ve seen those shriveled twigs, barked by snow, white theatrics! Grey midnights, star-stuffed skies Mind shivering, sockets empty, iced with dreams I’ve tasted snow already! Stinging, melty, dusty, smelling of wire, Flakes clumping on the window screen. Yes, I see the spring shadows, hunching over the branchy tips, Curling, nipping at the buds Mind cracking, strafed by morning, sniffing after spring.

Almost tread-free New York City

These .two Happy Dogs rekindle their joyous friendship, while their owner- puppeteers pretend to manage the situation

At certain times in a particular light, would-be solid substances begin to dance.   They are creating shadow ripples in the space-time continuum.

 When times get tough, the best thing to do is take out your magnifying glass... Twigs Against Fifth Avenue

Late winter meets early spring in Central Park near 96th Street

What responsibilities fall upon these sturdy limbs Nourishing the fragile, hibernating twigs Buoying up a traveling winter squirrel. Hard trunks: rough, bent, creased and full of rings, with spring hanging in the balance.

Winter Garden: alive with beauty, minted in texture.

It was an odd sort of feeling in the air that day, A crackle and a nip and so-you-say, Then all of a sudden there appeared at my right, A prison-like building, and try as I might,  I could not recall seeing that building before, With its fires and its bars and the black double door. The lights began to flicker on and off—it was a code! I was certain it was beckoning to me, so I slowed-- It was then I heard the creaking and I saw the eye-like brass-- The double door cracked open and revealed a rasping mass— It began to slink and slither out the bottom of the crack; I was pinned to the sidewalk, afraid to turn my back! I covered my eyes, and when I opened them the mass Had disappeared completely and the brass was just brass! The door was closing quickly, but something seemed screwy-- A form was on the landing that was furry, black and mewy. Well I guess you know by now it was a messy little cat, It turned around to look at me and then it just sat! Nevertheless, the other day I we...

Dusk is such a subtle time Did you know there are three different twilights?  Here's Wikipedia's descriptions: Evening civil twilight begins at sunset and ends when the geometric center of the sun reaches 6° below the horizon ( civil dusk ). Nautical twilight is the time when the center of the sun is between 6° and 12° below the horizon. In   general, nautical twilight ends when navigation via the horizon at sea is no longer possible. Astronomical twilight is the time when the center of the sun is between 12° and 18° below the horizon. From the end of astronomical twilight in the evening to the beginning of astronomical twilight in the morning, the sky (away from urban light pollution ) is dark enough for all astronomical observations.

"Help!  Help! Help!  Is this the Interstellar Police?"  .... "A Translucent, cone-headed alien is attempting to sneak through our window and read a book!"  .... "Yes, a realbook!"  ....   "I don't know why it doesn't get it online.   How would I know?" Surveillance at Local Library

How often I ponder, "Why am I not blonder?" Though golden is nice, being blond would add spice to my geist and my feist (and add twice to my price). I've nothing to lose, so sit here and muse, my owner's out walking, and I sit here talking to any believers in talking retrievers who happen to notice my hues (or my blues).

Cycles! Remember the windup times, spinning honey and ribbons.and yellow birthday cakes, white frosting, pink with candles, a July watermelon and a sandbox with a spoon? Sand!  Do you recall the racket days with beach nets and surfing, and that starfish creeping in the sea urchin pool? There was that day along the winter beach, surf scampering in the inbound tide, sinking wet into brown sand bubbling with clams, dull in the overcast sky. Do you wonder where the anchor is that gathers up these pulsing times? That sparkler pink Those sun burnt cheeks That stinging  windswept  dreary day awash with seaweed flowers?

Attention! Danger!  Misty Extracto Zone!  Beware of Greywake Arch!   Officially this arch is named for the variety of Hudson Valley sandstone with which it is built, but this is a completely uninformed reading of the term Wacke!  Look at the etymology...   Wacke  noun 1. a kind of rock, boulder This is as far as the official definition goes. However, Wacke is ( alternative spelling of ) 2. Wacky. And, Wacke is from Old High German waggo or wacko, probably cognate with Old High German wegan "to move" ! The Terrifying Truth is that we have a Grey Wacko Arch that causes things to not only Move but to slowly Disappear into one of the few remaining Misty Extracto Zones! Look carefully at the photo.  See those two innocent fuzzy=edged dogs?    A few more trips under the arch, and the poor owner will emerge with two empty leashes. Thank goodness we discovered it in time.

Night!

Remember I mentioned a few days ago that I had discovered another of Squiva's students on location, but as usual we needed to obtain clearance from the National Union of the Squirrel (NUTS) in order to post the candid shot.  Indeed, this is one of Squiva's stars.  Look at the tail mastery!  Just the right amount of transparency in the fluff.  Just the exactly correct  curvature.  And isn't it delightful to see how sleek and fat the students are this winter! From what I hear, Squiva is opening up a branch office for his Institute, location undisclosed.

White Buddha meditates on wealth, power, and ceramic parquet in a small courtyard

Golden Winter Berries, near Squiva's hangout South of the Metroplitan, Squiva appears to be on location.  Florida perhaps? However, we ran across some of his students the other day. We're negotiating the rights to post the photos from the National Union of the Squirrel.

Fireworks over the Reservoir, 2012 Taken with blurry iPhone; it's the thought!