"Cameras are important precisely because they could answer questions we are too stupid to ask." -Carl Sagan
Perhaps I am starting again. This would be the way to do it. New camera, old obsession… bales of hay, shot from a moving car.
This is Pippin. He was enjoying a good belly rub, I was enjoying how perfectly he matched the carpet. I decided to take a picture, which divided my attention, which he found less satisfying, so the belly rub was over and the cute ecstatic dog pose was gone. Good thing, because I really like the resulting abstractness, along with the colors and play of textures.

My mother in law is drifting in and out on a sunny afternoon. In and out of wakefulness, in and out of our commonly held plane of reality, in and out of her chronological age. For a few minutes As she dozes I can pay attention to something besides her, but I can’t go anywhere. The Sunday paper is too full of the woes of the world. Angry Birds are too frivolous and violent. The irises that the neighbors have brought over from their garden are glowing in the afternoon sunlight, and the teens are playing basketball in the cul-de-sac outside. My iPad has a camera that gives me new perspectives. I tap the screen. This moment is caught in pixels.
Somehow Main Street, Springfield, seems even smaller town USA than Cottage Grove. There is a real live drive in, and an antique shop called “Little Shop of Hoarders” among many other classic features.
Imbolc, Candlemas, St. Bridget’s Day. Call it what you will, we’re half the way through the Winter, which has for the most part lacked winteryness. What will Spring bring? In a fit of Episcopagan devotion, I burn candles to remind the light to return full strength, and to honor St. Bridget and her eternal flame.
Making dinner, I stopped to arrange the cabbage and take a picture. That happens with surprising frequency when cabbage is involved.