Sunday smorgasbord

There is no spoon* (Leaves and reflections on the pond. Edited in Pixlr.)

The wise man does not seek enlightenment, he waits for it.  So while I was waiting, it occurred to me that seeking perplexity might be more fun. . . After all, enlightenment begins where perplexity ends.

~ Terry Pratchett

A beautiful background for the call of nature. (Holden Arboretum, near the Sugarhouse.)

As usual, I’m left with a smorgasbord of photos from the past week or two that didn’t make it to the blog for a variety of reasons.  Usually they get shunted aside because the post is already weighed down with images.  Occasionally the photo doesn’t fit the theme that developed as I was putting together a post.  And sometimes the photos are experiments and I’m not always sure what to do with my experiments.

“Painted” in FotoSketch. (The woods behind the neighbor’s corn field.)

Are your blog posts planned?  Laid out in a logical manner?  I almost never know where I’m going when I sit down to write up a blog post.  I start with one idea, but then the images and words go off of their own accord.  Sometimes the images dance around the words.  More often, the words dance around the images.  Most of the time I can’t tell which is which.

Hang up

Perplexity is the beginning of knowledge.

~ Kahlil Gibran

Candy (Reflections on the pond)

I am fifteen days into my meditation commitment.  Time flies…  well, actually, it doesn’t.  Time sometimes stops during meditation.  Perhaps “stops” is the wrong word.  It expands.  It’s difficult to put into words without sounding as if I just stepped out of the 60s after dropping some acid.  (I wasn’t old enough to be dropping acid in the 60s, but didn’t miss is by much.  That is all I have to say about that.)

Tree love

The NaBloPoMo prompt for Friday was:  Do you tend to cover up your failings or admit your mistakes?

Ghosts of Autumn

What a strange question.  I don’t think failings and mistakes are necessarily the same thing.  Failing doesn’t have to be the result of a mistake, and a mistake doesn’t have to be a failing.  In fact, I’ve probably learned just as much, if not more, from my mistakes than from my successes.  Mistakes becomes successes.  Failings are often an ending.

Tapped

I don’t cover up my failings or my mistakes.  Karma has a way of making those things public in one way or another so I’ve learned not to bother trying to hide them.  Much.  I don’t announce them to the world either.

Coupled

For instance, I didn’t tell you what it was I did that was stupid.  Not right away.  If you keep up with comments, you know what it was I did.  For those that don’t, I’ll tell you now because it’s funny now.

Back to earth

I backed our new/old car into the dirt pile that sits at the end of the driveway.  Here’s the thing about that dirt pile:  When the dirt was delivered (5 tons of it), I asked that it not be allowed to sit there long enough to grow grass and weeds and become a hillock.  M and I did our best, but the grass and weeds did grow.  The dirt pile became a part of the landscape.  It also became a habitat for a variety of critters, including birds who nested in the weeds that grew large enough for them to nest in.

Messages from the woods

In our garage we have a tennis ball hanging from the ceiling.  This visual cue is extremely helpful when it comes to parking the car.  After I backed into the dirt pile, M planted a shovel with a ribbon on the end into it in the temporary hillock.  I laugh every time see it.

I was disconcerted in the extreme when I looked at the results of backing into the dirt pile.  The bumper on the driver’s side was covered in mud and dirt.  Dirt was driven (literally) into the hitch (where we attach the rack for the bikes) and the tailpipe.  The funniest thing of all:  A big weed was sticking out of the tailpipe, planted in the dirt.  It looked as though it had been living there for ages.  I should have taken a photo, but I was too busy hosing everything off so I could see what damage, if any, had been done.  It was during the hosing off that I discovered the bumper was loose.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

So there I stood, with a car that we’d had for barely a month, thinking I’d broken it.  All because I wasn’t paying attention.  All because I’d gotten a little cocky when it came to doing something I’m usually not very good at (judging distances).

There is a happy ending.  The entire right side of the car and bumper did not fall off as I feared they would.  (My mind sometimes works in silly ways, going to extremes.)  A couple of plastic rivet thingies had broken off and were easily replaced.  I didn’t break the car.

Red oak

It is strange, the desire to show off or to be somebody.  It seems so impossibly difficult to be simple, to be what you are, and not pretend.  To be what you are is in itself very arduous without trying to become something, which is not difficult.  You can always pretend, put on a mask, but to be what you are is an extremely complex affair; because you are always changing; you are never the same and each moment reveals a new facet, a new depth, a new surface.  You can’t be all this at one moment for each moment brings its own change.  So if you are intelligent, you give up being anything.

~ J. Krishnamurti

Dr. Frankenstraw. (Holden Arboretum)

Well, that was quite a ramble, wasn’t it?  Enough for today, that’s for sure.  Thanks for dropping in.  We’ve been having lake effect rain here in the Bogs today.  The dampness combined with the temperature in the 40s made for a chilly walk.  There is a freeze warning in effect tonight.  It’s time to put the garden to bed for another season.

Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

It’s vital to remember who you really are.  It’s very important.  It isn’t a good idea to rely on other people to do it for you, you see.  They always get it wrong.

~ Terry Pratchett

*Reference to this scene from The Matrix.

Today’s view of the pond

Advertisements

28 Comments on “Sunday smorgasbord”

  1. mobius faith says:

    A veritable cornucopia of autumnal ocular cuisine.
    I never read Terry Pratchet but I love the quote.
    I didn’t need a spoon because I had a big dipper for the first image – a star cluster of color and abstract beauty.
    The port-a-pots are a humorous addition.
    I am in love with the “ghosts of autumn” image. The processing is perfect for that.
    Holden Arboretum is someplace that’s been on my checklist to visit but somehow I’ve never gotten there.
    Had to laugh about the “dirt pile” – been there done that.

    • Robin says:

      The arboretum is a pretty interesting place, Terry. I hope you get up there someday. Glad I’m not the only one with a dirt pile to laugh about. Thanks! 🙂

  2. My favorite was the “painting”. And sometimes, I think ‘failings’ are just detours to try something in a different way. You can’t fail without trying. So trying, and failing just means it will take a little longer. 🙂 Or, sometimes, yeah, we just fail!

  3. Backing into the pile of dirt sounds like something I would do. Though it hasn’t happened since we’ve been home, I had two near accidents while we lived in Haiti–but then again, it’ not an easy place to drive. Alas. Loved the fall photos, Robin. Hope you’ve had a lovely weekend.
    Hugs,
    Kathy

    • Robin says:

      Thank you, Kathy. 🙂

      My one big consolation about the dirt pile is that when I hit something, it usually doesn’t involve someone else’s property or another person. There’s something to be said for that.

  4. artsifrtsy says:

    Gorgeous – I love the reflections!

  5. ~mimo~ says:

    fall heaven! I love these images!

  6. ladyfi says:

    What poetic and beautiful shots!

  7. aFrankAngle says:

    Wow … much going on here. Then again, you are very good for weaving words around the images!

    I plan my posts. Then again, they are text driven … well, for the most part. So, for me it is more about pattern … that is, a routine of a particular day of the week.

    Glad the car is OK! …. and oh … thanks for sharing the great colors.

  8. Karma says:

    I wasn’t sure how to answer that question from NaBloPoMo from Friday either. I answered a few others in a post, but that one I decided to skip. I like how you answered it. Makes perfect sense. This is a lovely collection of photos and I like how your post evolved. To answer your question, I’ve written posts both ways: planned and completely at random, although there’s almost always a photo or two that inspire my want to blog. I’m often more pleased with the results of the random ones.

  9. Great post, Robin; I had been wondering what exactly the “stupid” thing was. And the weed in the tailpipe – only funny after the fact 🙂 Every new car we’ve ever bought has had some minor catastrophe within the first few weeks – I just relax about it after it happens, since it is no longer perfect and I don’t have to worry about trying to keep it that way anymore.

    Your “candy” photo is gorgeous, and I love the Krishnamurti quote – I’m going to be thinking about that one all day (if not longer) As always, visual inspiration and food for thought – yours is a most nourishing blog.

  10. What a meaningful ramble that was! I especially love the last photo of the pond.

  11. Phil Lanoue says:

    Those are excellent!

  12. Robin, I always find your images wonderful, but you’ve outdone yourself in this post! I especially love Painted, Tree Love, and Ghosts of Autumn – they are extraordinarily beautiful. Enjoyed the story and quotes, too.

  13. “Ghosts of Autumn” is very delightful!

  14. […] Sunday smorgasbord (bogsofohio.wordpress.com) Share this:Like this:LikeBe the first to like this. « Gratitude 144: Birds […]


Thank you for visiting, and for commenting. I hope you'll join me at my new blog home, Breezes at Dawn.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s