Mostly Wordless Wednesday

My Illinois countryside.

 

 



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Marigolds

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The smell of marigolds isn't completely pleasant. It's not completely offensive either. It's somewhere in between. It's a smell all its own. Hours after my hands have moved their long stems, cupped the blooms in wonder, I have to pause what I'm doing -- making the bed, vacuuming the house, hanging up clothes that had been unceremoniously dropped on the bedroom floor -- when the faint whiff of marigold drifts up to remind me of my time with them. Marigolds are just lovely. Whenever I see a marigold or smell a marigold, I'm taken back to my childhood. To a movie that for some reason became a part of who I am. I was only eight when the movie came out, but I remember having a very strong reaction to it, and every summer when I plant marigolds, I think of that movie: The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man in the Moon Marigolds. I try to watch it at least once a year, and since the marigolds I planted this summer are blooming, I thought the time is perfect to watch the movie
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Night Sky

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I had dinner with friends last evening. In their screened-in patio overlooking a wooded backyard leading to a creek. The air cooled significantly as the sky darkened, and at one moment we all enjoyed watching an owl that had taken perch on a tree limb near the creek. While a movie played, we chatted and ate ice pops. I'm pretty sure mine was grapefruit. At least that's what I'm going with.  Not long after the movie ended, I made my way home, which wasn't far. Just a couple of blocks. Cicada, cricket, and frog song drifted on the cool air, and when I looked up, I saw a clear sky full of stars. We've not had a clear night in some time. I stopped in the middle of the street to take in the scene. When I finally arrived home I decided to try and get some night sky photos, something I've never done before. I had no idea what I was doing. I spent twenty minutes or so on the front porch, swaying in my hammock swing as I read an article about astrophotography. What lens
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