Tuesday, April 20, 2021 (Seven days before the full rising of April’s Pink Moon)

While my brain tried to find something about which to write today, ideas rose but not interesting and motivating There were scatters of doings here at home that feel like big deals but wouldn’t sail in my mind’s breezes. Something illusive was preventing my charging forth with an idea.

That changed after I began seeing in today’s leading newspapers articles about the Chauvin trial, and its possible aftermath. Today, Minneapolis is poised for riots. An increasing majority is gathering around the courthouse, most believing Chauvin guilty of murder. They’re insisting and praying for justice in a guilty verdict.

It struck me that I, too, am worrying about that jury’s decision. A surprise, here in my home a couple thousand miles from Minneapolis and its street-threating massive rebellion. I’ve witnessed on television some of the trial, and yesterday’s closing arguments by the attorneys.

I’m aware of storing such information in a brain chamber, to await an official verdict. After that, I’d mix and match my impressions to the real outcome.

Or so, I assume, that’s me, how I feel and what I’ll do.

This morning, I recognize that I’m really very involved, have an opinion, and now see that that for years everybody’s been building toward the outcomes that may follow this jury decision. It’s been accumulating over time, “it’s all got to us”: gun violence, Black Lives Matter, police brutality, #metoo.

In this year’s brief beginning, we’ve witnessed random mass killings, one after another. The Chauvin trial is tapping an iceberg that tops the illnesses among huge populations. Social pressures have outstripped the once-commonly accepted social norms that for long managed to manage most of us.

Recently I’ve become more aware of America’s history, parts that school didn’t teach. The Constitution built on ideology and promises couldn’t have predicted great explosions of population and wealth that have altered national and world balances.

Today beyond our borders, Russia is ramped up and poised to attack Ukraine. North Korea is doing who knows what, and preparing to do who knows what. And here in the United States, we’ll likely witness pro and con outcries on Minneapolis’s streets, regardless of the jury’s verdict.

All that’s on my mind. Much reaches far away and gathers input from Minneapolis and Ukraine. Much is local, too, for nearby Portland is experiencing street riots and they’re increasing.

All this means that regardless of what that Minneapolis jury decides, the unrest will continue. What to do about policing? About wealth distribution? About economies after a year of shutdown. About Ukraine and North Korea?

Dear Friends: An awakening, to recognize how greatly world issues may affect personal anxieties. Diana

Monday, April 19, 2021 (Eight days before Pink Moon rises nearest to earth)

My last surviving hen, Welsummer, has outlived all others in my chicken flock. On impulse, in 2010, I brought home a dozen day-old chicks from a feed store. In those days, as a recent transplant from Los Angeles to Central Oregon, I found a country-like environment highly enjoyable. Eager to immerse myself in new adventures, I couldn’t bypass cute tiny chicks.

The growing babies were fun, offered lots of learning and provided too many eggs. Observing hens encouraged me to start identifying wild birds by sight and sound. Eventually, my bird life gained some inside talking-types, Quaker Parrots.

About my hens, unlike the common knowledge, each was smart and had an individual personality. Their behaviors singularly and as a group were fascinating. In five or six years, they aged, laid fewer eggs, and eventually began wilting before soon passing away.

I fought losing each hen, sought veterinary help, tried to prevent each from failing but couldn’t. Modern domestic chickens aren’t bred to live much past their laying years when generally they become unwanted.

Bird people know that birds well-cared-for can live for many years.

Now, I’ve only Welsummer who’s well beyond her egg-laying days. She appears healthy, shares space with my twin goats, looks terrific, is excited when I show up, eats well and behaves normally.

Well, almost. Here’s what I discovered yesterday in the goat house:

Actually, a few weeks previously she had laid an egg. Our friend, Susie, and I were offering treats to Welsummer who ignored us–very unusual. She looked stressed and worried me greatly. Suddenly, from her an egg dropped. It was unformed, she eagerly devoured it, and Susie snapped pictures.

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As Kathrine Hepburn tended to remark, “Who can say, who can say?” I will remark that today for breakfast, I’ll enjoy a beautiful fresh blue egg.

Dear Friends: May this hen keep outliving the average survival years for domestic chickens! Diana

Sunday, April 18, 2021 (Nine days before April’s full “Pink Moon” rises nearest to earth.)

Early today, one-quarter of the coming full Pink Moon descended in the western sky and reflected brightly in my bedroom window, awakening me. The bright quarter moved quickly, and before my head, feet, and camera were in gear, its light had skidded north, becoming hidden in a location where trees obscured my view of the horizon. Shucks, an easy shot missed.

Around midnight, few suddenly-awakened humans are at peak performance. I decided to read, and while preparing instant coffee nodded to a happy basil plant beside the sink. That plant had given me a little learning journey.

Maybe because my mind had been dwelling on moon travels or on seventeen-year appearances of the cicadas, I recalled my history with the basil plant. Weeks ago, I picked it up in a supermarket. Alive, tall and leafy, it rose from a bit of damp soil in a tiny container. The instructions, to set its container in water, seemed easy, I did and the plant lived.

In time, after I forgot to keep the basil wet, it drooped. I enjoyed having occasional fresh basil and wondered if the plant might thrive by a replanting in a bigger pot. I popped the sad basil into another container with lots of soil and plenty of water. The plant regenerated and bloomed.

This plant-keeper forgets, and sure enough, before long I again focused on the plant and it looked completely dead. Oh well, I shrugged, who needs a live basil plant anyway?

My inner person tugged against my impulse simply to pull and toss that basil. A better self nudged to me that death by neglect could have been avoided. Having nothing more to lose, why not water the plant before tossing it, just see what might happen?

The next morning, the plant surprised me, its lower leaves slightly lifted. The larger top leaves still were dead. I wondered if cutting away the heavy top leaves and reducing stems might better help the lower part regrow, but decided to let the plant be. Next morning, the entire basil was alive and even its highest leaves regenerating.

A renewed lesson to my better self: I love the moon’s various appearances, the cicada events, the intelligences of bees and octopuses, and also now, a simple basil plant. That almost-easy toss-away has reinforced an always-human need to keep working toward understanding, caring, and nurturing.

Dear Friends: A salute to rigid cycles: those of astronomic movements and of life itself. Diana

Saturday, April 17, 2021 (10 days before the fullest appearance of April’s “Pink Moon”)

During this pandemic era I’ve searched for ways to encourage my creative side, hoping to expand my usual ways of imagining and dreaming. I’ve been helped by carrying a camera and photographing whatever seems interesting. I don’t do much with my pictures beyond producing and sharing them on this blog, and occasionally on Facebook.

While looking through past photos, it seems some might have been worthy of a painting on canvas. One afternoon I tried to recreate in oils a photo of a bird perched in a tree with multiple interesting branches. My first version was a total flop. So were second and third attempts. Finally, I realized that the picture’s elements were too complicated for decent reproducing by a novice painter.

I considered art lessons. I’ll mention that watching online paints being mixed and applied is as boring as watching grass grow. These days, in-person learning opportunities are rare, and besides, I’m among those now tending to avoid gatherings.

Suddenly, a light dawned. I’d find things simple to photograph. Say, an item alone or a scene containing simple components. For painting, I could recreate a whole picture or isolate one of its components.

That’s why I focused on a lizard and a rock. I planned for the Western Fence Lizard in today’s header photo to become a painting.

The potential shot was at a distance and its background too isolated for real interest. Here’s a longer look.

It turns out that these pictures actually are pretty good, but maybe too complicated to paint. Closing-in more captured the creature looking straight through distance and back at me.

I’ll not try to create a painting. While there’s a simplicity of subject, there’s also a complexity of mood. Recreating mood challenges mightily a novice painter.

Dear Friends: Visualizing differently and adjusting camera-handling heightens creativity. Diana

Friday, April 16, 2021 (In eleven days April’s full “Pink Moon” will appear.)

A general consensus is that an almost-best video series was “Breaking Bad”. The series initially aired from 2008 to 2013, over five seasons with 62 episodes.

I didn’t watch the initial airing, but comments about the show matched in popularity another compelling series, “The Sopranos”. When “The Sopranos” appeared on Netflix, I tuned in and loved it. Later when “Breaking Bad” landed on Netflix, I checked it out. And Oh My Gosh!

I couldn’t pull myself from sitting through episode after episode. All was good about “Breaking Bad”, the script, directing, acting, photography, and its ending.

It’s a story about an underpaid high school chemistry teacher who suddenly is diagnosed with stage-three lung cancer. He worries about dying soon, leaving his family with nothing, and so, turns to a life of crime. Partnered with a former student and user who’s peripherally involved in the drug world, the chemistry teacher manages to create, produce, and distribute, a very powerful version of crystal meth. Their success quickly forces the two men into navigating the dangers of a criminal underworld.

Meanwhile the chemistry teacher leads a double life. He’s a family man, tells his family nothing about his involvement with drugs and the underworld. At the same time he continually produces meth and is under a heavy burden of having to launder incoming scads of cash.

His is a compelling story.

Now today, in the Washington Post is a story about one Barney Dale Harris. He’s a 40-year-old, popular Charlotte, NC, Spanish teacher, who also is the men’s varsity basketball and track coach, and is a student adviser. He has died from gunshots.

According to The Post: “Barney Dale Harris, a beloved presence at the Monroe, N.C., high school since 2017, [was] killed in a gun battle while trying to steal drugs and cash from a Mexican drug cartel.”

More about this: “Authorities found the body of Harris inside a mobile home in Green Level, N.C., on April 8. He was wearing a bulletproof vest that that failed to save his life during what Alamance County Sheriff Terry Johnson likened to ‘an old Western shootout.’”

Married for 21 years, Harris was the father of three children and leading a double life. His wife knew nothing about his involvement with the underground drug world.

This is a fascinating story because it mirrors “Breaking Bad”. It raises questions about when, why, and how Harris became involved with a drug cartel. The robbery attempt that led to Harris’s death included his brother-in-law. There’s no suggestion that either were users. These men seem to have been intent on stealing from someone associated to a Mexican drug cartel.

The Post also notes that this episode might have another chapter. Mexican cartels don’t forget, they get even.

Here’s a link, https://www.washingtonpost.com/crime-law/2021/04/15/teacher-cartel-shootout/

Dear Friends: This story suggests influence by a fictional series, we only can wonder. Diana

Thursday, April 15, 2021 (12 days until April’s full “Pink Moon”)

I’m about to go outside and feed the large animals and my last remaining chicken, Welsummer. Today’s header photo from several years ago shows an earlier flock hen and not Welsummer. It’s a pleasing capture.

Welsummer is on my mind because she seems amazing. She’s just turning eleven years old, looks thrifty and is energetic. Still occasionally she lays an egg. Mornings, I prepare chopped salad for Welsummer and my Cockatoo Peaches. They get mixed greens, and kale aplenty, with peas, beans, and shredded carrots.

You never know what’s on Peaches’ mind. His foot reaches into the bowl and he tosses pieces least interesting onto his cage floor. I don’t worry because the cage floor becomes a storehouse for his eats through the day.

But I’m outside and carrying a food bucket. Welsummer races to greet me unable to contain her excitement over the food container. She leaps and pecks at it, follows me to a feeding spot, and begins eating the instant salad bits hit the ground.

From yesterday, here’s Welsummer diving in.

My African Dwarf twins who share space with Welsummer are interested in what she’s eating. For some reason, probably because they’re untrained, aren’t into veggies. I’ll start working and teach them.

Some years ago my neighbor, Frank, allowed these goats onto his pasture. To my surprise, the animals didn’t seem to know what to do. They didn’t nibble grass, just followed me around with their heads up. I recognized that pasture grazing was new and they needed an introduction to it. Well, now I will work on introducing the goats to salads.

Dear Friends: After years and now down to my final hen and last goats, I’m still learning from them. Diana

Wednesday, April 14, 2021 (13 days until April’s full Pink Moon)

As a sucker for souped-up old vehicles, I laughed on finding myself parking beside an elderly Dodge pickup. It’s painted bright orange, with a lowered body. Best, its energetic nonviolent decals render it semi-ferocious.

Here’s its front view.

Some of its fun decals.

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This orange truck put me into mind of one I saw a couple of years ago. I was parking next to it and astonished by the creative modifications. Someone very artistic had it updated into a vision of gorgeous.

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While considering these recreated and loveable vehicles, I recalled long ago spotting an old Cadillac parked nearby. This photograph captures a perfect paint job that confuses where it might rank on a beautifying spectrum.

Fortunately, the art world offers plenty for individuals to like or dislike, which keeps Facebook massively popular.

It’s great fun to behold art social in nature.

Dear Friends: With time to gaze around, we find the big world offering much that astonishes. Diana

Tuesday, April 13, 2021 (In two weeks, April’s full “Pink Moon” rises nearest earth, becomes highly visible.)

Disney’s long standing theme song originally written for the 1940 children’s movie, “Pinocchio”, is titled, “When you wish upon a star”. Sung by Jiminy Cricket in the popular movie, probably everybody worldwide knows the song and remembers its first stanza.

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you….

Today we’ve become much more familiar with astronomy and some events occurring regularly in space. Maybe it’s not too odd to consider that old musical image as less provocative and thus less powerful Nowadays, maybe we’re more likely to want to wish upon a full moon.

The April full Pink Moon is called a “supermoon”. Named so for appearing larger than average when its orbit puts it at a point nearest to earth. Its near position makes a supermoon appear up to 30% brighter than full moons normally positioned in the sky. Supermoons are about 221,905 miles from the Earth, versus average full moons at distances of about 240,000 miles. The approximately 20,000 miles make moon sightings quite distinctive.

Here’s the April Pink Moon, nearest to earth and eyecatching. I’m eager to photograph it.

To be honest, every full moon, those nearest or most farther away, draws me in, compels my vision. During a full moon’s visibility, I look to see it through daylights and night skies.

Having written this, I’ll be on searches for more or better rationale for wishing upon moons rather than on stars. While it’s a funny project, all imagination, we do want to wish!

Dear Friends: Childhood images have so shaped our lives, Disney was a true genius! Diana

Monday, April 12, 2021 (15 days until April’s full “Pink Moon”)

Who in this town knows there’s a street sign identifying itself as “Bee Tree Lane”? Did those in the know learn about that street by accident?

Well I did, while driving in an unfamiliar neighborhood. I’d chosen to take a scenic route toward my destination. Shortly thereafter and feeling a bit lost, I turned suddenly onto Bee Tree hoping it would lead to an area more familiar. Instead, I found myself on a dead-end short street and a small neighborhood.

The area surrounding Bee Tree is former farmland. The dwellings are fairly new. Annoyed about my wrong turn, I headed for the street’s end with space to turn around. I’m attracted to historical remnants and sighting yard ornaments from earlier times stopped me short. I got out of my vehicle and carrying a camera trespassed.

Get a load of this ancient Fire Truck.

Behind the fire truck an old wagon with a team pole for hauling by horses. The pole’s length suggests that the wagon, fully loaded, needed a four-horse team.

There was more. These working mailboxes have posts of old farming equipment.

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I’m concluding that there are few wrong turns. Even in places seemingly uninteresting, open eyes find rewards. For me, the photos are enough. These capture historical artifacts, record creativity, and suggest use variations to collectors of ancient implements.

Dear Friends: A rapidly changing world makes it essential to grasp our disappearing past. Diana

Sunday, April 11, 2021 (16 days until April’s full “Pink Moon”)

Little is like a first tasting Guinness Irish Draft with a friend who previously has visited the Dublin Brewery, and who loves the beer. So my friend, Susie, introduced me to the stout. She knows I’m a habitual Coors Light drinker and cautioned that I might not enjoy the brownish drink. Oh, but I did.

I learned something new and cool. It’s seeing a newly poured Guinness taking shape in its glass. An initial darkness at the bottom foams upward and on reaching the top produces a lovely head.

Thus began a pleasant sharing whatever came to our minds. Spinning ideas like the foaming in a beer glass, we reflected and predicted. This included drinks and eats. Following the Guinness a lovely Argentine Malbec perfectly accompanied snacks of good cheddar and fresh cheviche piled on low-carb tortillas. Yes, we did the event right.

What’s best though is the mutual confidence bringing us together. I air mixed feelings about suddenly quitting a job and dumping a months-long re-fi process. She loosens a preoccupation with producing and marketing her family’s Heliladder (www.heliladder.com), and instead, speaks of what she’s learning from books and movies, from her kids and friends, and describes her sheer happiness while adventuring outdoors.

Soon we’ll be sharing an outdoors adventure. We’ll be chasing April’s full Pink Moon, hoping to capture the sky’s beauty as that moon begins to rise. The days will be longer, and we’ll find how lingering light may influence our vision.

Dear Friends: If happenstance I drifted home a wee bit tipsy, t’was worth it. Diana