Humans, throughout history, have feared the dark. Our eyes are not well-adapted to seeing in low light levels and we fear what we cannot see. Our hearing is not as acute as our feline and canine companions. Nor can our sense of smell inform us what may be stalking us in the night.
Almost all of our literature, night means danger. The things that happen in the dark are twice as frightening because they happen in the dark.
Yet, in the normal course of things, pretty much what is “out there” in the dark is the same as what is there during the day. Those frigtening things are not inherently scarier or more dangerous than anything that happens in daylight. But at night, we are unsure what things are. We have to go by touch, small, and memory. It produces uncertainly which for humans is usually frightening.
Gibbous moon at night
Would anyone like to take guess why? Does it go back to caves and lurking saber-toothed tigers? Or is in buried deep in our DNA?
The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
‘O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
What a beautiful Pussy you are!’
Pussy said to the Owl, ‘You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?’
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there, in a wood, a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.
‘Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?’ Said the Piggy, ‘I will.’
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.
Sometimes, wonderful pictures deserve another “go round”
I really admired these pictures on Bob’s site. Over the course of the past year, he has gone from “snapping a few pictures” to being a really good photographer. He does, I admit, have a real passion for shots of the moon … but many of us do. It is, after all, the only thing in space we can take pictures of using normal lenses!
My passion for moon-shots is somewhat dimmed by the number of trees in the way of my lens. I’ve only gotten really good moon pictures when I was somewhere lacking trees. Parking lots. Beaches.
Locally, we are very thoroughly treed in and not just at my place. All over Massachusetts. Last I read, we are 60% treed in this state, most likely because most of the big farms are gone to where the soil is better — flatter and less rocky — and the climate is more amenable for growing bigger crops. We do have apple orchards, but not much else beyond local corn, cucumbers, tomatoes, and other salad stuff.
So these pictures aren’t mine. Two Red Wattlebirds against a slipper of a moon … and a beautiful, clear shot of the moon itself.
ROMEO: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!
Since I’m an old time player at this game, I’m letting people in as long as it’s not a portrait and not the primary part of the image.
I invite you to consider giving this challenge a try, even if you’ve done it already. An extra push to do better photography is good for your art. Moreover, finding a black & white picture that somehow represents “you” in a visual way poses an interesting challenge — an artistic double-whammy, so to speak. At least one of the pictures I used in the first round of these challenges turned out to be one of my most popular-ever posts.
On the table. Recently cut into pieces and then stitched back up, I was officially in shock. Well, what do they expect is going to happen? They take all the critical parts of your body out, repair them, stick them back in. Nothing is working and everything hurts and I do mean everything, including parts that you weren’t aware were even in your body.
Doctors are incapable of admitting they cause actual pain.
“Pain” is what you felt before they got you on the table and repair you. Post-surgery, it’s called “surgical discomfort,” a thing that often requires massive amounts of ingested drugs, but is not “real” pain because they caused it.
So I was in shock, which happens when you are hit by a tsunami of post-surgical discomfort. I was also not entirely awake, not in any sense of the word which I understand. I’m told my dark side rose from my recumbent body and I tried to take down the nurse. With my fists.
The better part of valor parlayed and voted to put me back into a chemically induced coma.
The first night of the moon, it was so overcast you couldn’t even see whether or not there was a moon. Today, it was clear as a glass all day, but by the time night had truly fallen, it was misty. Not as opaque as the night before. I could see the moon through the cloud cover, but it was soft and hazy, without edges … a bright blur on a misty night.
Making My Home A Haven is important to me. Sharing homemaking skills. Recipes and food. Bible Studies. This is a treasure chest of goodies. So take a seat. Have a glass of tea and enjoy. You will learn all about who I am.