This might be bull

That might be a bullhead shark. It certainly looks like a grumpy shark. I like the face peeking from above. This is the Baltimore Aquarium in 2017, with my son, my two aunts, an uncle and two of their cousins.

That looks like a ray and a shark. I don’t know what kind of shark.

Maybe it’s a bullfrog.

It’s a snapping turtle. Are there bull snapping turtles?

The turtle is missing a left front flipper so lives at the aquarium and likes watermelon.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bull.



What bucket can catch this light and color?
None, I think, and then I think I am wrong.
A bucket lowered and set in the water,
Turquoise and blue and black, a song.
Lift the bucket and the turquoise is gone.
Reflected light, a dance on on the riffles.
It’s like the happiness for which we long.
Caught for a moment, containment stifles
the reflection of joy in our face and hearts.
The face that lights from music or dance
or a moment touched by another’s art.
Let joy come and go, take the chance.
The light on the water will be gone at night.
Joy wants to be free and not held too tight.

I heard the band The Winetree last September in Ohio.

Sonnet 17.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bucket.

The weight of water

Sometimes water looks light and flighty in photographs, but here is Crocker Lake, with the water looking thick and deep. A mirror, inviolate. A surface that we can almost believe we can step on. Water IS heavy.


The weight of water

You don’t realize the weight of water

I say I am a sea, deep, the emotions on the surface only
you dismiss me, female, lesser, emotional, unimportant
except for your uses. I should be receptive, listen, not speak.
You have no interest in my life, except when you want
my services.

You don’t believe me until the day
you look down and fall. The waters close
over your head. The weights you’ve tied
around your ankles carry you down down.
Welcome to the depths.

Welcome to the weight of water.


For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: thick.

Daily Evil: W is for Wild

Is wildness evil? What sort of wildness? The forest and waves and wilderness are not things we think of as evil, but some wildness in humans seems very evil. Some is silliness, some is substances, and some is truly violence and cruelty and terror and evil.

This is another of Helen Burling Ottaway’s fantasy etchings, titled The Hunt, number 6 of 30, 1986. A merman with a trident and dogfish, with a variety of tails. The etching is 6.75 by 8, the paper 11 by 15. I like the lines of movement, of waves, from the escaping shark.

Local lions

Our local lions are sea lions! I don’t think of sea lions as being good tempered, with the movies of them chasing prey. But out of the water in the sun off of Marrowstone Island, they seem pretty calm and I did not see displays of bad temper.

Sea lions can dive more deeply than seems reasonable because they slow their heart rates, to use less oxygen, and slow digestion. When they arrive back on the surface, they can get oxygen quickly but getting rid of the CO2 is slower. They have to sit around on the surface and the head back posture helps. I’ll bet they can beat any high school or college student in a burping contest. And as you can see, some of these are just huge. We wondered how they got on the rock. Do they have to at low tide or do they just jump?

I do like to hear them roar. Hooray for our local lions.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: temper.

Daily Evil: S is for Sneaky

Sneaky. One thing that I think really is evil is gossip. Talking about someone behind their back and spreading rumors and never speaking to the person themselves. But I do not need to punish anyone. The gossip will eat them from the inside, like a cancer, and they will look like fools when they are proven wrong. Curling churlishly with guilt.

I look at the sea and I let it all go.

This watercolor by Helen Burling Ottaway does not have a date. I love the whitecaps using the paper. Tricky to do that, I have tried. My daughter also draws horizons and seascapes, over and over. This is 11 by 15. I suspect it is from the late 1970s or early 1980s, because there is a watercolor of my sister on the beach, similar to this. My paternal grandparents lived on Topsail Island in North Carolina and that is the most likely location.

S is for sneaky and snarky and sea. Here is a snarky song.