Still, one longs to know more.
This anonymous family snap was found at a flea market. It appears to have been taken sometime before 1940.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Found Image #1. The best photos don't need a caption...
Still, one longs to know more.
This anonymous family snap was found at a flea market. It appears to have been taken sometime before 1940.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Lido Beach
On the restless border of two worlds
time is a shadow
in the burrow of a ghost crab,
the fleeting radiance of a
morning glory,
the fierce hunger of a heron.
In the soft sand,
every passage is recorded.
Evidence is preserved, at least
for a while.
The tide rises,
bearing gifts for the gathering gulls.
Water-worn shells tumble in the surf.
Sand returns to sand.
What the waves can't conquer,
the wind compels,
scattering the golden sea oats,
driving the dunes down, grain by grain.
-walkin' tree
time is a shadow
in the burrow of a ghost crab,
the fleeting radiance of a
morning glory,
the fierce hunger of a heron.
In the soft sand,
every passage is recorded.
Evidence is preserved, at least
for a while.
The tide rises,
bearing gifts for the gathering gulls.
Water-worn shells tumble in the surf.
Sand returns to sand.
What the waves can't conquer,
the wind compels,
scattering the golden sea oats,
driving the dunes down, grain by grain.
-walkin' tree
Hello, and welcome to my blog.
The German author Gunter Grass has a way of encapsulating the improbable and/or fantastic in a neat phrase, and his readers might recognize the title "Barbaric, mystical, bored" from a particularly pithy chapter of "The Tin Drum." In the unlikely event that he's ever made aware of it, I hope Grass won't mind this little homage.
In creating this, my first blog, it quickly became apparent that one's "display name" was critically important in setting the tone for what was to follow. I pondered, and rejected, "faux paw", "snarko polo", and "camerapithecus." I even briefly considered a line from Monty Python, as uttered, in falsetto, by Graham Chapman: "Oh, intercourse the penguin!"
But I figured the reference to penguins might make some people uncomfortable.
Eventually I settled on "walkin' tree", a descriptive nickname the early crackers gave to rhizophora mangle, the red mangrove. Florida's red mangroves are aquatic trees found on the southern coasts. They're salt-tolerant, and thrive in conditions that are hostile to most terrestrial plants. They grow above the water on stilt-like "prop roots", and look as if they might scuttle away the minute your back is turned. Despite their strange appearance, red mangroves are vital to coastal ecosystems in all kinds of ways, from preventing erosion to creating safe havens for nesting birds and baby fish. But their main contribution occurs when they shed their leaves, which sink and rot, forming a malodorous, microbe-laden goo. It's the first link in a food chain that reaches all the way to the dinner table. If not for mangroves, Florida's recreational fishing industry would be dead in the water.
Anyway, think of these blog posts as mangrove leaves, moldering away in cyberspace.
I'm a "nature photojournalist" by trade. I photograph and write about Florida's many and diverse ecosystems, which are disappearing at an exponential rate. So be forewarned: this blog may at times devolve into a rant, about developers, phosphate industry apologists, manatees, sea turtles, burrowing owls, Florida rivers, that miserable sock puppet in the Oval Office, whatever. But don't bale on me, please- I'll hold the sturm und drang to a minimum, and try to keep things interesting.
Speaking of hostile ecosystems- I live and work in a neglected slice of Tampa called Sulphur Springs. You could say it's part ghetto, part aging hippie enclave. I've been here over 20 years. If not for my good neighbors, Steve, Carol, Arnie, even the gentle and terminally reclusive Marshall, to name a few, I would've left long ago. Together, in this benighted urban habitat, we're an island, like the mangroves.
Although I'm pretty handy with duct tape, I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no blogs. So I 'spect there'll be some growing pains. I'll try to update every few days, or at least once a week. Meanwhile your suggestions, comments, criticisms, and literary contributions are earnestly solicited.
-walkin' tree
In creating this, my first blog, it quickly became apparent that one's "display name" was critically important in setting the tone for what was to follow. I pondered, and rejected, "faux paw", "snarko polo", and "camerapithecus." I even briefly considered a line from Monty Python, as uttered, in falsetto, by Graham Chapman: "Oh, intercourse the penguin!"
But I figured the reference to penguins might make some people uncomfortable.
Eventually I settled on "walkin' tree", a descriptive nickname the early crackers gave to rhizophora mangle, the red mangrove. Florida's red mangroves are aquatic trees found on the southern coasts. They're salt-tolerant, and thrive in conditions that are hostile to most terrestrial plants. They grow above the water on stilt-like "prop roots", and look as if they might scuttle away the minute your back is turned. Despite their strange appearance, red mangroves are vital to coastal ecosystems in all kinds of ways, from preventing erosion to creating safe havens for nesting birds and baby fish. But their main contribution occurs when they shed their leaves, which sink and rot, forming a malodorous, microbe-laden goo. It's the first link in a food chain that reaches all the way to the dinner table. If not for mangroves, Florida's recreational fishing industry would be dead in the water.
Anyway, think of these blog posts as mangrove leaves, moldering away in cyberspace.
I'm a "nature photojournalist" by trade. I photograph and write about Florida's many and diverse ecosystems, which are disappearing at an exponential rate. So be forewarned: this blog may at times devolve into a rant, about developers, phosphate industry apologists, manatees, sea turtles, burrowing owls, Florida rivers, that miserable sock puppet in the Oval Office, whatever. But don't bale on me, please- I'll hold the sturm und drang to a minimum, and try to keep things interesting.
Speaking of hostile ecosystems- I live and work in a neglected slice of Tampa called Sulphur Springs. You could say it's part ghetto, part aging hippie enclave. I've been here over 20 years. If not for my good neighbors, Steve, Carol, Arnie, even the gentle and terminally reclusive Marshall, to name a few, I would've left long ago. Together, in this benighted urban habitat, we're an island, like the mangroves.
Although I'm pretty handy with duct tape, I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no blogs. So I 'spect there'll be some growing pains. I'll try to update every few days, or at least once a week. Meanwhile your suggestions, comments, criticisms, and literary contributions are earnestly solicited.
-walkin' tree
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