capillary pattern
More fog for the Ragtag Daily Prompt today. We were walking in the sun and the fog was creeping in behind us. We went back quickly, before the fog really took over.
This is for today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: vista. The other night was such a beautiful sunset. I felt guilty last night going to bed without going down for the sunset….
I like September here. It is cooler but often still sunny. Sunset is earlier. After pneumonia, I have often gone to bed at 8:00 pm or earlier. Now I can stay up until sunset! This is from North Beach, two evenings ago. Beautiful evening.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: myocarditis.
There is myocarditis and pericarditis in some 20 something year olds after the Pfizer vaccine. However, the amount of myocarditis and pericarditis is ten times as much in 20 something year olds unvaccinated with Covid-19. The myocarditis and pericarditis with the vaccine is short term. There is also a recent study just out of over 43, 000 people in Great Britan indicating that unvaccinated people with Delta variant Covid-19 are 2.26 times more likely to be hospitalized as unvaccinated with the Alpha variant.
The fog is burning off. It is becoming clearer and clearer that the vaccine is way safer than the Delta variant Covid-19 infection. It is still too late, too late, for some people.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: deja vu.
This bird has a GOAL. This is a directed flight, like an arrow. Can you guess the bird?
Here it is in the tree top, the goal.

Landing in the tree, getting situated, takes a minute.

Yes, it’s a great blue heron. She reminded me of a tree topper: an unusual angel. It takes a big tree to support this angel, here:

She is at the top of one of the far trees.
Deja vu: seeing the Covid-19 numbers rise in the US again and grieving about that and Afganistan and Haiti and sending love to all the grieving that we don’t even know about.
I took these pictures in September 2017, down the street from my house. I love the great blue herons and I love to see them in trees. They look so wonderful and peculiar in trees.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt today.
Canvas is the sails, of course. I took this in Baltimore Harbor in 2016.
I have seen the frogs
in the northwest
all you have to do is be quiet
near the puddles
or a pond
walk there very very quietly
in the spring they are singing
to each other
calling
a symphony of longing and joy
and they don’t hear me
when I walk very quietly
at the end of the world
as a child my father teaches me
to catch frogs
very quietly
approach the pond
or puddle
if the frog hears you
it will duck under water
you will only see a ripple
spreading out
or it will hop
into the woods
and hide
my father
would occasionally use frogs
as bait
to catch northern pike
a live frog on a hook
frogs scream
when you stick a hook through their back
I hope they go into shock then
and don’t feel much
one we’d seen this
my cousins and my sister and I
when my father got his fishing rod
we’d run through the woods
yelling “Hide the frogs, hide the frogs!”
and we would catch any frog
that was dumb enough not to hide
and quickly set it in the woods
to hide it from my father
we would check the puddles, too
feeling in the brownish muck
to make sure no frog was hidden
in the shallow puddle
come out, you must go in the woods
to survive
to catch the smart ones
normally
we would tiptoe to the puddle
hoping a frog was facing the other way
if they saw us, they were gone
slowly bend down, hand out
behind the frog
reach gently
grab just above the back legs
not too hard, don’t squish it
I was under ten
on a canoe trip
when I run to my father
“A frog! A frog! The biggest frog I’ve seen!
Papa, come help!”
My father comes.
An enormous frog is beside the canoe.
“Catch it.” says my father.
“Please! You catch it!” I beg.
My father creeps up on the frog.
His hand moves out slowly.
He grabs the frog, who tries to jump
and croaks, a bass, huge mouth.
“It’s a young bullfrog,” says my father.
“It will get even bigger.”
He hands it to me.
I take it carefully, shaking a little.
“We could eat it’s legs.”
“NO!” I say. I just want to hold it for a minute.
I turn it over and gently stroke it’s throat.
The frog goes limp, mesmerized.
I set it down gently, right side up,
near the water.
I squat by the frog and wait.
I am waiting for it to wake up.
The frog is so beautiful.
I wait until it wakes up
and returns home.
Home to the Longette & Longette Lite
Intelligence that is not artificial: we are real.
BLIND WILDERNESS
in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Or not, depending on my mood
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain!
An onion has many layers. So have I!
Exploring the great outdoors one step at a time
Some of the creative paths that escaped from my brain!
Books, reading and more ... with an Australian focus ... written on Ngunnawal Country
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Coast-to-coast US bike tour
Generative AI
Climbing, Outdoors, Life!
imperfect pictures
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
En fotoblogg
Books by author Diana Coombes
NEW FLOWERY JOURNEYS
in search of a better us
Less Noise. More Meaning
Art from the Earth
π πππππΎπ πΆπππ½π―ππΎππ.πΌππ ππππΎ.
Taking the camera for a walk!!!
From the Existential to the Mundane - From Poetry to Prose
1 Man and His Bloody Dog
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