A Certain Tree

First there was this. It was not very long ago. If I close my eyes, I can remember the day. Thin ice. And the wind. But no snow to cover the branches.

Then there was this.

The same wonderful tree, now wearing its colorful, Spring raiment.

Cortazar in one of the stories in the collection A Certain Lucas talks about wanting a job photographing sunsets, trying to discover and record the most perfect one. I've written before about photographing clouds. But now I think making images of the trees would also be fulfilling. Evidently, I am not alone in this quest.

About Time

This is my favorite ginko tree.She is wearing her early Spring green dress. She sways in the breeze. She smiles. She spins to show off her dress. She listens to the wind's song and hums softly along. She has done this joyfully for many, many years. She is naked in winter. And she suffers the wind and rain and ice and snow. But when the sun finally warms her, she wakes again. She smiles. She pulls on her frills. She smiles at herself in the mirror. She waves, she sighs. Oh, she says. Oh what a deep sleep. And such dreaming! Oh, how wonderful it is to be awakened from such a long, cold sleep. She yawns herself awake. She shakes her head gently. She spins. She admires her dress. She giggles.

This is the same ginko tree in Fall. I saw her as she fell asleep.She was wearing her yellow night gown. She yawned. She sighed. She swayed with the cold, howling wind. She smiled slightly. She had heard the wind's song before, and she knew the tune, but, alas, she still fretted. If she slept, would she wake? If she slept, would her dreams be sweet? Or horrors? It was natural, she thought, natural to anticipate the deep cold. Natural, she said, to anticipate utter nakedness, the rawc skin, the profound shivering, the howling of wolves and the blue, frozen, arid moon and the calling of distant owls. And the glacial sleep. The sleep in which she would dream of a distant bright yellow, warm sun, and a warm breath of whispers, and at the end, a gentle breath and soft kiss on her neck and the sweet smell of lavender. Lavender wafting in the distance, far away now, but coming closer as her eyelids closed, and the winter's sleep covered her in gray felt and perfect dreaming and blue and pink ice.

Catching The Bombers: The Hats

For the past two hours, I've been watching the FBI tapes and looking at the photos. I've also listened to a lot of blather from "experts". So if we're being invited to catch these guys, I have an idea. A suggestion.

See the hats? The baseball caps? What are the logos on the hats? Do you know what they are?

I wear a baseball cap sometimes. I can assure you that I would not wear one that had a logo on it that I didn't like. It's a personal thing. Like what it says on your t-shirt. I think most people are like that. Sure there are people who don't care. Sure there are people who are trying to decoy. But, c'mon now, can we at least figure out what the logos are? And is that a clue? Or not.

[Sorry this is so short to be a diary, etc. But can we get with providing the pros with the help they are asking for?]

Update (4/18/13 at 20:41 EDT): It appears that guy #1 may have been wearing a Bridgestone Golf cap. And that guy #2 may have been wearing a white Polo cap. If that's not right, let your Bloguero know.

And that brings us to the next question about hats. Are the hats worn? Or are they recently purchased? And what conclusion do you draw from that?

In Memoriam

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (January 15, 1929 - April 4, 1968)

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

May he rest in peace.

The Life (And Death) Of Pi

Alabama Governor Robert Bentley

NMSR reports:

Huntsville-- NASA engineers and mathematicians in this high-tech city are stunned and infuriated after the Alabama state legislature narrowly passed a law Friday [March 30, 2012] redefining pi, a mathematical constant used in the aerospace industry. The bill to change the value of pi to its so-called "Biblical Value" of exactly three was introduced without fanfare by State Senator Shadrack McGill (R-8th District, Jackson County), and rapidly gained support after a letter-writing campaign by members of the Solomon Society, a traditional values group. Governor Robert Bentley, who emphasized the Biblical reasons for the change in value, says he will sign it into law on Thursday.

The law took the state's engineering community by surprise. "It would have been nice if they had consulted with someone who actually uses pi," said Marshall Bergman, a manager at the Ballistic Missile Defense Organization. According to Bergman, pi is a Greek letter that signifies the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter. It is often used by engineers to calculate missile trajectories.

Prof. Kim Johanson, a mathematician from the University of Alabama, said that pi is a universal constant, and cannot arbitrarily be changed by lawmakers. Johanson explained that pi is an irrational number, which means that it has an infinite number of digits after the decimal point and can never be known exactly. Nevertheless, she said, pi is precisely defined by mathematics to be "3.14159, plus as many more digits as you have time to calculate".

"I think that it is the mathematicians that are being irrational, and it is time for them to admit it," said McGill. "The Bible very clearly says in I Kings 7:23 that the altar font of Solomon's Temple was ten cubits across and thirty cubits in diameter, and that it was round in compass."

McGill, the article reports, called into question the usefulness of any number that cannot be calculated exactly, and suggested that never knowing an exact answer could harm students' self-esteem. "We need to return to some absolutes in our society," he said, "the Bible does not say that the font was thirty-something cubits. Plain reading says thirty cubits. Period."

Governor Bentley is expected to have a signing ceremony for the bill on Thursday in Montgomery at which former Alabama Supreme Court Chief Justice Roy Moore is expected to give an invocation. Moore's office today stated that the change in the value of pi to the Biblical value was a good, first, legislative step toward the Rapture, toward making the crooked straight and rough places plane.

Haven't these people done enough already? Is nothing sacrosanct? Who will stand up for the missing .14159+?

El Pato Ha Vuelto!

Many years ago in early April I bought four mallard ducklings at Blue Seal Seed and Feed. They were tiny, and like most poultry in this county, they had been mailed with their siblings to the feed store when they were one day old. They lived in a crate and swam on the pond. One survived the nightly predators to full maturity. And because we wouldn't clip his wings, when Fall finally arrived, nature's plan took over. He flapped his wings, circled the pond, quacked a few times, and flew away toward the South. His name was "Tricky Duck." And he was a traveler.

Remarkably, he came back every Spring. He brought his mate with him. And then his children-- I imagine they were his children-- returned each Spring with their mates. And then his grandchildren. And their mates. For more than 25 years.

This Spring has been quite cold and bitter. There's been snow. There is still snow in the fields. There have been geese, but, so far no appearance by Tricky Duck.

Last night was cold. This morning was cold also. It was just above freezing. And then, a surprise. I heard him quacking. Tricky Dick's unmistakeable quack. Quacking to the dog, who is no longer with us, to stay away. Quacking to the sky spirits. Quacking aloud. Quacking for joy. The duck has returned. I saw him and Ms. Dick swimming in the pond. Spring has almost arrived.

I have posted this Tricky Duck annual event for many years now. This year, it was reported that Blue Seal in Chatham, Tricky Duck's original address, is closing at the end of the month. I guess we didn't buy enough there after we got Tricky Duck and his siblings. And now it's gone.

Tonight's Visitor

I have a cold. I fell asleep early with the cat. She smelled of tuna.

I was awakened by a ruckus downstairs. I went down to see what was the matter.

I turned on the porch light. There was a huge gray wolf standing there looking at me through the door. And evidently it wanted to come in. So I opened the door.

This turned the cat into a hissing, spitting pincushion. She jumped to the top of the cabinets and screamed feline invectives.

No matter. I don't blame her.I decided to go back to bed. What else could I do?

As I expected, the wolf followed me up the stairs.

I got back in the bed. I told him, ”Please let me sleep. I need to rest and to dream."

Evidently he understood me. He put his huge gray head in my lap and closed his eyes. I put my hands deep in the soft fur under his ears and rubbed. It was thick and very soft. I also stroked him between his eyes at the bridge of his nose. His head was big and heavy, and soon he was sound asleep and breathing slowly.

In the morning he will be hungry. I will be, too. I hope he likes eggs.