She Kept A Parrot


While I was out late this afternoon, I snapped a few photos.  This old motel was seedy when I moved here in 1976.  I don’t think much has improved about it since.  I cannot imagine the roach population in that damp, crumbling place.  I see this motel every day as I drive down the main street that runs through the entire town.  I think the arrow lights stopped working many years ago…. Read More

Two Faces

  Two faces I love.  One was born a simian baby with a Mr. Magoo face.  She grew into a beautiful child and and into an even more beautiful woman.  The other came to me by happy chance. The girl inherited her father’s freckles although you’d never notice in real life.  She is the mother of The-Boy-Who-Grew-Too-Tall.  The other has an oddly matching freckle.  Freckles are not the only characteristics these two… Read More

Split-Leaf Philodendron Leaf ~ End of Cut Stalk

My daughter, Kelli, and her husband, JC, decided to prune everything in their landscaping yesterday.  Kelli doesn’t trust anybody else to do the job.  I did not participate.  I did show up to record the massacre.  They removed a large wax myrtle and a pygmy date palm.  Both were dead or dying.  I had a good time photographing these cuttings.  I almost fell and broke a hip climbing around in those piles,… Read More


As he always does, Shimon started something in my head.  He’s bad that way. What Shimon said was:  “Pity the poor parrot that cannot fly… hope that the advantages of living with a human outweigh the disadvantages…” I don’t know the answer to that, and neither does Rita.  Her life was always this way.  At least, it was always this way after she came to live with me.  So it has been… Read More

I called this guy my “Garden Troll”.   His face always full of wry good humor mocking me…   He sat atop a sundial pedestal from which the sundial had long been discarded.  No matter.  He never concerned himself with dates and times and appointments.  Neither did I.  I forgot where he went…perhaps underground in the Secret Garden as is the habit of trolls.  Or…perhaps I left him behind at the old… Read More

This woman was directing a food service line.  It was obvious who was in charge.  I knew she has been at this for a very long time.  She had the air of a person who knows what she’s doing and brooks no nonsense.   Her quiet confidence impressed me.  I admire competence and the sense of accomplishment she obviously found in doing her job well…a true professional in my eyes.

I know this man.  We affectionately call him “Listo as does his family.  His given name is Ruben.  He is a laborer in the concrete business.  He works for us.  He is a shy, brown-skinned man with beautiful, curly hair and large deep eyes.  He is a solid block of a man who keeps to himself.  He doesn’t talk to me, but I imagine that I know him.

Until I acquired a parrot of my own, I was always a little intimidated by the pointed upper mandible, especially in the larger species.  I had no idea that the tip of the upper mandible is the most sensitive part of the bird’s beak.  He gauges the texture of whatever he’s exploring with the tip in order to decide how much pressure is required to crack a nut or to take a… Read More

This cotton burr with the cotton still intact came from some cotton field many years ago.  I broke it off intact and kept it as a little piece of nostalgia.  You see, I actually picked cotton by hand as a kid.  The hard, green “bolls” form like unopened flowers buds on the cotton plant.  When the cotton is “ripe for picking”, the boll has opened and dried into a “burr” that you… Read More

Creeping Carolina Trumpet The vine in the pergola reveals its tentacles only in the bareness of winter.  In spring and summer, hidden beneath a benign tapestry, it patiently forces apart joints in the framework attaching itself in an indiscernible, slow-motion drama of destruction.  I am torn between the fear of its steady invasion and the lure of its evil promise of coral trumpets. (click image to enlarge)