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… of a kind.
Recycling some old potting mix in a bucket in the garden that became a trap for a lizard. It fell in.
Don’t know how long it was in there, it wasn’t exhausted yet but it was glad to see me. Clear as day.
Well, don’t know about ‘glad’ but as I lowered a stick carefully in to assist it climb out it clearly took advantage.
I drew the stick up the inside of the bucket and the lizard leaned into it, hooking one leg over it so as not to fall back down.
***
The Fiddler ...
The fiddler beetle was zooming round the flowers in the garden, frisky little thing.
So when it stopped a moment I was prepared for some fast action on its part.
As soon as I touched the flower head it was on it dropped off.
Survival strategy at times demands a creature plays dead.
It would have unfolded its wings and taken flight … but ...
***
Shielded ...
See how simple space is, clarifying the thing it surrounds, shaping the form.
Every little thing has its place in the tapestry.
Nothing is disposable, or all of it is.
***
Painted Dancer.
Robotic, staccato movement of tiny feet across the flowers. Behind her a trail of silk to anchor.
Big eyed beauty sees all in her world, strangers above a certain size reveal themselves at their peril.
Such confidence she has, or lack of self consciousness – unaware of the sharp eyed crow overhead.
Pure instinctive being ...
A HAPPY PENTAX USER
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