…as artfully repurposed by my beloved.
Not all of these found/locally-scrounged objects are easy to identify!
This post also salutes the first rock musicians.
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This post’s soulful, dark-eyed beauty is a domestic yak, Bos grunniens.
To the best of my knowledge, not one of Scotland’s emblematic domesticated bovines – its highland cattle – has reached the summit of Ben Nevis.
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…in this instance, over an urban wetland in Gujarat, western India, a few minutes after sunrise on 16 February this year.
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As a result of today’s Easter Sunday walk, this post breaks the “one image, only” rule that otherwise applies to the “a shining moment” series.
Not all aspects of the current crisis are bad…
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There are a little more than 400 known species of reptile on Madagascar.
More than 90% of them are endemic; the island sometimes described as “the eighth continent” is their only home.
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Less than 100 metres distant is the mostly-dreary, seemingly never-ending sprawl of greater Adelaide’s southern suburbs.
Down here, however, the beach is still beautiful, and at low tide one can walk straight onto a reef where non-human life is abundantly evident.
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To an Australian, peacocks are fabulously “exotic”, but this post’s peacocks were in their own land, where they are an “everyday” sight.
Indian peafowl live in most of the Indian subcontinent’s non-alpine regions.
So, many an Indian human pays them little attention.
To most non-Australians, a kangaroo is a fabulously exotic creature, but many Australians are not the least excited by ‘roos.
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Many of us do not Believe.
A non-Believer, however, can still believe in the power of particular places here on terra firma – earthly “paradises” which inspire us, delight us, even heal us.
One uncanny song is named for a place that really did have the same name as the song which so vividly evoked it, and mourned its destruction: Paradise.
We have just lost its author.
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Not long ago – within my own 65 years, I think – the ground on which I stood at 12.30 pm on March 17, 2019 – would not have been visible, much less fetchingly clad in lichens, mosses, et al…
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They were ducks, not geese, they were not “in chevron flight”, and they were almost certainly not beginning a seasonal migration.
Nonetheless, a certain longtime-favourite Joni Mitchell song leapt into my head.
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