Here in New York, this last day of November is a wet one. Raining steadily since this morning, the sky is overcast and dreary, the pitter-patter hasn’t let up, and rainwater is collecting, dripping, and saturating everything in its path. But the signal strength of my Direct TV dish hasn’t been affected and that’s what’s most important, right?? I mean what would we do without TV???? Actually plenty. A nutcase like me, for example, tries to take pictures during such photography-unfriendly conditions. Hey, what can I say? I was bored out of my mind. Bored being cooped up in the house, bored with chores both completed and uncompleted, and longed to be outside, raining or not.
I hoped my usual backyard critters would be there; the squirrels, the birds, the feral cats. And they were out there, all day. I saw them. Tolerating the rain, mauling the birdfeeder, digging in wet dirt, and generally going about their business. Until, of course, I emerged. Then they all scattered in a panic. It was as if they knew I wanted to take their pictures and hid from me on purpose!! “Oh shit! Here she is! Quick! Hide!”. So for my rainy Sunday snapshots, having been abandoned by the critters, I was stuck with the usual and predictable “wet leaves on shrubbery” and “raindrop closeups on twigs” routine. Hey, it’s not my fault! I wanted the flock of blue jays, but they took off.
A withered, autumn hydrangea:
This next picture actually has a funny backstory. Most of you know that I feed feral cats. Although most of the time I give them dry food, once in a while I treat them to a yummy can of soft food. The other day I opened a can and remembered later on that I left the can cover out in the garden. So I reminded myself to go pick it up. When I got home, I went out to retrieve the can cover but it was nowhere to be found. Oh well, I thought. Must have gotten blown away by the wind. Well, today I just happened to peer over the low brick retaining wall which runs along the edge of my property. I was looking for Monty. And there I spotted the wayward cat food can cover, dangling precariously on the edge, like this:
Totally cool, man! That sucker is hanging by like a millimeter! Let me remind you all that I have no idea how that cover could get to that particular spot and hang in that fashion. It is nine feet away from where I left it, plus it’s OVER a wall, and then DOWN another foot. It defies the laws of physics. It’s madness! But I suspect the cats (or raccoons) are the guilty culprits.
One wet and irritated squirrel appeared high above. He seemed pretty pissed off about his condition, but I took a picture anyway. He’s not happy:
The trunk of my favorite dogwood tree:
And one more “raindrops on twigs” for good measure. Looks like winter ice, doesn’t it? This one’s actually very nice when clicked and enlarged:
To close out this “rainy day” post, here’s a poem by Shel Silverstein, appropriately titled “Rain”:
I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can’t do a handstand–
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said–
I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.
“Rain in my head”, indeed Ain’t that the truth!
See you all soon.