Today I learned how to ‘play’ my screen saver. It’s the kelp forest and the diver, drone, or camera moves slowly through it. This is the few seconds before I start the day.
Then I hit ENTER on my password and I have to live with whatever area it stops at. For a while all I could see all day was huge swags of kelp behind all my directories.
Got sick of the boring view. Went through all the other available screen savers, didn’t like any of them. Re installed the kelp forest.
This morning I thought to view the whole loop. Duh, people will be saying. I hit ENTER at a place I liked and hey presto … a whole new and different wallpaper. I’ve got fish now, swimming between the folders.
This morning found another artist whose paintings ‘speak’ to me. Simple at first glance with well defined shapes. The colours, how I also like to outline them.
But complex, too. Layers signified by tree branches in front and behind. The road topping hills and going out of sight in the dales. Thetr is distance and perspective.
And there’s luscious substance, not to forget. Shapes shadowed as they curve inward to meet the bedrock of the canvas.
I’ve been waiting all day for this cloud to produce the rain that is its primary feature. Rain, that is, that falls as far as the ground.
Nimbostratus
All cloud names are derived from Latin. ‘Nimbus’ means rain cloud. ‘Stratus’ I think means spread out. This one blankets the southern sky and hangs out in the middle cloud levels, between five and ten kilometres above sealevel.
Nimbostratus rains and rains and rains, so we’ll see what tomorrow brings. Unlike cumulonimbus, the anvil in the sky thunderclouds, nimbostratus begins its weeping without fanfare. It just starts to rain.
Which has always felt wrong to me, since most of my life I’ve lived in places that attracted thunder and lightning, hail and rain bucketing down. Storms, you know? It’s only since I’ve lived in Brisbane that I’ve experienced nimbostratus rain events.
I’m pretty sure I have the name right this time. This cheery overgrowth of wild colour would’ve been a weed in most other places, but here and now in the wilderness of abandoned gardens, it’s a joy to see.
Interestingly, its seeding habit reminds me of the seed habit of the plant all bush-walkers and probably most farmers love to hate. I’m talking of the Australian weed, Farmers’ Friends.
It only needs one knee high plant to catch on your clothes, and you’re picking clingy seeds off for the next three weeks.
One old farmer I once knew, used to have to spend quite a bit of time picking seeds off his socks, since he nearly always forgot to wear his ‘shock absorbers’.
I’ve forgotten the punchline of the joke or pun this name referred to, but they are the little elasticized “skirts” people wear around their ankles, over their socks and tops of their boots. Let me know why they are called shock absorbers?
The old man, when he’d collected a 1 litre yoghurt container full of Farmers’ Friends seeds would throw them in the stove fire. The seeds hang together like velcro, so its easy to pick them up in one bunch.
However, these are Cosmos seeds heads. But if you know what Farmers Friends look like, you’ll see the likeness.
PS, that’s a shockingly bad photo, so out of focus it’s not funny. That’s one problem with composing a post on the mobile, with the photo merely being edited with the Apple editing software. I don’t like it. Probably I’ll go through the whole rigmarole of emailing the photo to myself, editing it using decent software and re-posting it.
Since my fictions range over many cultural groups and therefore different languages, and I have the main characters moving from group to group, I’m always looking for ways to write language learning …
This is the taster, as I’m on my mobile. Later, when I move onto my laptop with its bigger screen and I can see what I’m doing, I’ll write the expansion if the original idea allows itself to be expanded.
Sometimes I have two or three posts on the go being drafted due to needing more info. Like, for instance, the expansion on the mysterious stone that needs me to dig around in geological areas.
The word ‘expansion’ is really starting to bother me, it needs rephrasing. Never mind, I have a thesaurus on my laptop.
This blog seems to be the best medium to record my ideas as they arise, as I usually allow myself an hour or so of screentime on my mobile first thing in the morning. While I have my breakfast, imbibe my coffee and drink a liter of salted water.
My first butterfly at this place. The possibility of continuing to enjoy vists of butterflies is one of the reasons I wanted to live on the second floor, not the tenth.
I think an orchard butterfly, but not sure, investigating my bolly gum. I don’t have the Latin binomial at the end of my fingertips so will add in later.
In the foreground the butterfly rising from the plants, leaving disappointed, no doubt, not yet having found the citrus only a little distance toward the back of the plant array.
In the background a vast herd of Cumulus mediocris. Yes, that is what they are called. Thes are clouds of the lower altitudes, 2000 to 3000 feet above sealevel.
Cumulus mediocris appear as wide as they are tall, have proturbances and sproutings on top and do not usually cause rain, though can develop into angry and towering Cumulus congestus thunderclouds.
This poor burnt result my latest experiment with marinades and tofu. Although I think the major part of the problem was inattention, as in me trying to do too many things at the same time. Tonight, like, in about five minutes, I’m having another go at this recipe.
Rita de Heer 