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Monday, December 23, 2024

This morning, I will answer a question I left open in yesterday’s blog. I wondered if the first day after the winter solstice is ‘the pluperfect shortest day’ of the year.

Saturday was this year’s winter solstice, a year’s shortest day. However, Sunday was the first day after the solstice, an equally unique and equal turning point. Although technically still dark, Sunday significantly marked the return to longer days.

Sunday, as a “pluperfect shortest day,” acknowledges its key position on the threshold between shorter and longer daylights. It marks, as clearly as Saturday (winter solstice), the shortest day of the year.

The pluperfect tense refers to something that “has happened;” or an action that has occurred before another action occurs, equal to, or nearly equal to, the first. In this example, the first day after the solstice is the first day after the shortest day has passed.

In a traditional sense, this might not be grammatically precise. The idea rose playfully as I recognized that a “pluperfect shortest day” equals its preceding day by significantly marking daylights from decreasing to increasing. Shifts in the cycle of light and darkness remind us that gradual changes will bring subtle but noticeable transformations.

Sunday following the winter solstice was technically as dark as the preceding day, lengthening daylight by two minutes, making Sunday pluperfect–an equal and next marker of longer days about to return.

Although Sunday’s daylight was virtually indistinguishable from Saturday’s, Sunday boasted a different energy. The day seemed more hopeful, our reminder of light slowly returning and boosting us from winter’s depths.

Dear Friends: Increasing light minutes will become visible in a few weeks. Diana

A Lovely Cold

By the artist Sandra Boynton (from her FB post)

Sunday, December 15, 2024

The department store where I am a part-time worker was busy yesterday; all good for the business and inspiring for its employees. After hours on my feet, checking out customers, and returning tried-on clothing to wherever the pieces came from, I leave to go home. I’m tired but happier if we’ve been super-busy with customers.

I’m off from work today and (speaking of super) anticipating tonight’s sky with December’s “Cold Moon” appearing. While driving home last evening, I couldn’t stop looking at that moon, bright and clear. From all indications, sightings of it tonight should be even better.

It’ll be spectacular, and here’s why.

The Cold Moon is the “longest” full moon illumination of the year. The moon’s proximity to the winter solstice (December 21st) gives it a longer path through the sky and gives us more viewing time.

This year’s Cold Moon happens to coincide with a rare “major lunar standstill,” which occurs roughly every 18.6 years. The standstill is caused by a wobble in its orbit that makes the moon reach its highest and lowest points in the sky.

I will enjoy tonight’s longer moon-viewing opportunity with unusually striking visual effects.

Dear Friends: Last night’s moon greatly hinted toward what’s to come. Diana

Season’s Musing

Thursday, December 12, 2024

I’m nursing sore muscles after my first trip in years to the gym. My poor legs, hips, and shoulders were pushed to work a little harder for a couple of hours. I’ll feel them more today as the muscles move me around, generally nonstop, in my part-time department store job.

This morning’s thin blanket of snow is pretty. All that white has me imagining a Poinsettia on my picture window shelf in the foreground. Now, wishing for seasonal inspiration from a bright Poinsettia, I will bring one home after work.

I wanted to know more about the plant’s significance. I understand now that poinsettias are native to Mexico and have been cultivated there since Aztec times. Aztecs used the plant to decorate and to produce dyes and medicines.

In the 19th century, Joel Roberts Poinsett, the first U.S. ambassador to Mexico, introduced poinsettias to the United States. He cultivated the plant in his South Carolina greenhouse and shared it with friends and colleagues.

Eventually, creative American growers saw innovative marketing possibilities. By employing the relatively new medium of television, they marketed poinsettias for background-coloring TV’s giant Christmas specials. Eventually, Americans saw the plant’s inherent beauty and associated poinsettias with Christmas, and now as beloved holiday decorations.

Dear Friends: “Random thoughts” don’t rise from nowhere. Diana

Hi, Mary!

Saturday, December 07, 2024

The other day, my mail brought a Christmas card with a So Cal return address but not the sender’s name. I chuckled over a handwritten note on the envelope: “Love that dog, Chase!”

I can’t guess how many people read my blogs because Google owns the writing platform and downloads blogs in response to internet queries about related topics. However, I know some readers in Southern California, where I’m from. I mentally played with possible note jotters and landed correctly on Mary Martini!

Mary and I used to work together at Kaiser Permanente. She’s one of the two best-organized people I’ve been lucky to work with, and she loves Chase!-my young dog; he’s strong, stubborn, exasperating, exhausting, and way too intelligent.

Okay, Mary, at the risk of repeating old stories, I’ll update everybody.

Since I last wrote about Chase, he’s escaped, and often again. Working almost constantly, I try to offset his diggings and keep him and his little companion, Mitzvah, from escaping. I continually drag large and heavy lava rocks uphill to my house, where they are lining the dog fence’s bottom, inside and outside. Strong and determined, Chase still sometimes finds vulnerable spots to dig out.

My standalone kennel has six-foot-high fencing and stands on a concrete base. Chase is a fantastic climber, so kenneling him doesn’t ensure his containment. I’ve (again!) worked on the fencing to prevent him from gaining footholds and to heighten his challenge. Now, escapes are on pause, but Chase keeps trying to defeat obstacles.

He wants to be with me, and I love him—he’s maybe the most intelligent dog I’ve known. But I worry about his safety, from vehicles and from becoming lost. I also worry about his responses if he’s loose and a stranger enters my property, for example, to deliver a package.

Taking him to a no-kill shelter and hoping he’ll find a better home is out of the question. First, because he’s so high-maintenance, and the shelters are overcrowded and begging for foster homes.

Mary, this beat goes on, and thanks for appreciating Chase. He will turn three years old in several months, the age that suggests a dog is mature. Regardless, this guy simply is who he is, and in somewhat of a miracle, he’s still here!

Dear Friends: My rounds of “Adventures with Chase” are continuous. Diana

Toward Fall

Saturday, November 09, 2024

I have the closing shift today at my part-time job. I will feed my horses a final time this day in darkness. Nighttimes, I don’t feed them inside the barn, and I wear a headlamp while out among them. My horses are easy to get along with–infrequently spooky and running around; but dark-time feeding calls for cautious navigating among the large, hungry, and anticipating animals.

All that will become more so closer to Christmas, as the store will stay open until eleven in the evenings, and I’ll have to work on some late closing shifts. I’ll still be challenged to feed horses in darkness, but later, around midnight. And with my dogs barking.

I let my dogs be outside in their fenced area while I work with horses in darkness. I recognize routine barking, and if the barks become intense, I’m alerted of something non-routine. The barks often tell me a deer is crossing the property.

I dislike nighttime noises that might disturb my neighbors. However, my dogs help me feel safer.

I am starting to plan for transitioning to feeding my large animals on a schedule later, colder, and darker.

Dear Friends: Living on a property with large (and small) animals isn’t dull. Diana

Changing Times

Saturday, November 02, 2024

Turning back our clocks tonight will make us more vigorously anticipate the upcoming “dark days of winter.” Time changes are mechanical acts that complicate our lives for days ahead. They challenge us, and we mis-assess our routines for a while, confused by changing daylight periods, odd to-bed and getting-up times, and our standard getting-things-done patterns. Remembering how much the time change will affect my daily life is discomforting.

I live on a small acreage and have a few outside animals, equines, chickens, turkeys, and a goat. Their feeding times trigger my understanding of daylight length. In summer, feeding the outside animals can stretch over long hours; in fall, feeding times become condensed; and in dark winter, most feedings occur in a nighttime atmosphere.

Turning back the clocks tonight has me anticipating the different relationship between clock time and natural daylight tomorrow. A key concern is scheduling feedings for my outside animals. Feedings in natural light are the easiest and most safely handled. Starting tomorrow, I must feed them earlier and manage to repeat that, at least once in natural light, and prepare to provide their latest feedings during the dark and cold nighttimes.

Other discomforting thoughts are about a personal transition. From experience, I anticipate that nightly bedtimes will become compelling by 7 p.m. because of the earlier darkness outside. On the opposite side of bedtime, I will worry about having overslept by seeing more light through the bedroom windows.

I’ll be adjusted to this time change by next week. Next spring, I will write about the agonies brought on by anticipating yet another artificial time change.

Dear Friends: I want “To change or not change clock times” on the ballot. Diana

Golden Harvest

Wednesday, September 18, 2024

Yesterday evening, today’s header photo was my most clear capture of September’s (always) fabulous Harvest Moon. Ever since childhood, the full September moon has been my favorite. Its brightness lights the path and powerfully signals a transition to significantly different weather. In darkening fall evenings, the Harvest Moon’s brightness encourages us to imagine late harvests, the old way with horse-drawn equipment.

After working late at my part-time job and driving home, I planned to photograph the moon but became discouraged. The large globe was barely visible and busy, dodging massive dark clouds.

I’ve played with moon photography for years but am still a novice at turning sky images into art. Yesterday evening, with art on my mind, I wished to capture the globe and earth objects, with the moon as top layer.

That top layer sometimes disappeared and an inviting empty space became an inspiring image.

This year’s Harvest Moon is also a Supermoon. That’s because it’s closer to Earth and appears slightly larger and brighter than usual.

These photos aren’t my mind’s perfect imaginings, but they satisfy. They capture splendid visual elements of the active moon and sky and earthly items. Another lovely aspect is that they touch on the moon’s emotional significance.

Dear Friends: Transition, reflection, and celebration as summer turns into autumn. Diana

A “Strawberry” Team

Friday, June 21, 2024

Yesterday was the Summer Solstice, the year’s longest day when twenty-four hours split to share equally the daylight and darkness. It marks the end of slowly increasing daylight and starts us anticipating a dark season’s gradual arrival.

The evening light lingered and illuminated us Moon-Chasers. We donned our uniforms, took a camera, and headed to an appropriate place near the airport on the city’s east side. We intended to capture this month’s almost full “Strawberry” Moon. We were going for that “nearly full” moon because commitments prevented us from chasing June’s fullest moon, happening tonight.

In lots of lingering daylight, we watched the rising moon. At first, it appeared very dimly, hovering almost invisibly over the tall trees and ridge of peaks that were our horizon. The barely visible Strawberry made us unsure we could capture it adequately, but in elevating the moon became clearer and eventually very beautiful.

Photos of that moon capture the eastern countryside’s dark sky. The darkness was a significant contrast to a lighter sky west and toward the city.

Susie and I did lots of moon and airspace shooting. We quickly recognized that we were in an area that invited playing, and we did that, too.

We love our Team Uniform!

Dear Friends: Ode to an interlude of beauty, fun, and friendship. Diana

End-To-End

Friday, May 31, 2024

I’ve looked forward to today, the opening day of baseball locally. Our Bend Elks will play against the Walla Walla (Wash.) Sweets. My friend Julie and I will be in the bleachers, stomping and yelling for the Elks.

Last season, after hesitating for years to go to an Elks game, I attended one. I had expected little of a second or third-string training team. To my surprise, that game was a big family event. I was challenged to find a parking spot and an empty bleacher seat. The game, a slam dunk for the Elks, didn’t hold my interest throughout; however, the sociology did. Throughout, family groups cheered and stomped for the Elks and children had a grand time.

I picked up on a local club’s larger appeal, which extends beyond the game itself, by creating a sense of community and offering an affordable, accessible form of entertainment. I got hooked on attending and planned to buy a season ticket, but my working schedule interferes, so when possible I’ll attend games.

Today is important, too, unique in a different way. This is the last day our store manager, Lisa, will be working with us; she’s moving to Colorado to start managing a larger store. I’m not on today’s working schedule, but going to the store and will bid Lisa a fond goodbye. She’s one of the best managers I’ve been fortunate to know. All of us who work in this store will miss her.

This Saturday will be my next working day. It’s also the start day for our store’s new manager. I’m certain to be saying more later about the change.

Dear Friends: A day that’s starting emotionally and later winding up energetically. Diana

Good Energy

Monday, May 27, 2024

Memorial Day has arrived this year on the heels of my birthday. My special day improved more last evening, by the pièce de résistance of having dinner with my friends Susie and Julie. Today’s header is Susie’s capture of us, in the excellent Latin-style restaurant–Mexican martinis, fine food, and a joint farewell to this Birthday, my best of all.

Today is for getting back into gear and keeping my mood high. So far, so good.

I’ll add a little about those Robins nesting among my barn rafters. I think the larger bird is a female and that she’s “My Robin.” She is back in her birth area and about to hatch her first babies. A little research suggests all that makes sense.

When my baby Robin fledged enough to fly away, it seemed a very involving saga had ended too suddenly. I kept wondering if the bird might return, and read that wild birds may mature and return to their birth areas to nest and raise their young. I gathered that full maturity takes a couple of years and that the lead returning bird likely would be female.

Here’s a fact: my baby Robin flew away two years ago! Without questioning the accuracy of my memory or my recalled learning, I believe my little Robin was a female. And as another birthday gift, she’s returned to her birth area and sits on eggs in my barn.

Thank you, Susie, Julie, Robin Bird, distant good friends, and colleagues at work, for making this newest year start off special.

Dear Friends: Positive and negative energies are generated by the eye of the beholder. Diana