DIAMOND ICE

trees practicing yoga



It was one of those beautiful days that there may be half a dozen days in a year so dazzling in its own way. Early this morning I looked outside and thought with the ice on everything, if the sun were to come out it would dazzle the entire mountain. In a short time, the sun did come out and stayed out all day. The temperature rose a few degrees above freezing, but it didn't melt the ice on all the twigs. It lit up every twig in the forest across the road, lit up every tree anywhere like it was covered in diamonds reflecting the light with zillions of tiny rainbows. The whole mountainside must have been glorious.



I went out in it after the temperature rose above 32. I couldn't go to the left out the door the way I usually do for the glacial overhang from the roof with icicles along the edge. It looked like a touch would create an avalanche I don't want to be under. I couldn't see a way of getting by it without touching it in some way. I went straight up the hill to the road. That was a serious effort. Every footstep required punching a hole in the 2 inch ice crust. The foot is held in the position it hit the ground, so there is no turning the foot, only the ankle. I felt like if I were to fall it could break a leg by not letting the foot go with the fall. Something about the snow holding the foot in one position like in a cast made it difficult to stand in. I managed not to fall before I reached the road. Then there was the snow/ice up to my knees requiring that I lift foot straight up to knee height to make the next step. That's uncomfortable too for balance.



All I needed to do was get to the road where the snow has been cleared. Right away I got involved in getting pictures of trees overhead, trees everywhere I looked were beautiful like I knew I'd never see them again. I walked up the road a ways with both Martha and her big sister Jolene from next door bouncing around me, eye contact seeming to be for them as invigorating as petting. With either one, a moment of eye contact and dog jumps ahead to lead the way like dogs do with happiness in her gait. Martha is a completely out of control dog, but after hearing Temple Grandin talk on the NPR interview show Fresh Air, I found something new. She noted that tone of voice is most important with the animals. Of course, I'd noticed that, but it didn't really register until I heard her say it. There it was.



Walking with Martha when she is jumping all around me, jumping on me, I have been keeping her down stiff arming her, which is awfully frustrating to her, almost like punishment. I've started making a vocal sound that is not words, but a human sound that says cut it out, on the order of something a dog would say with a bark. She'd go to jump on me, I'd make that sound and she'd stop that moment and look at me with eyes bubbling over with love. She wants to jump on me because she can't help it. Her eyes are beaming love every time she looks at me. I'm getting a feeling she might be my dog.



She took a liking to me that makes her want to spend her days here. She goes back when the workday is done and the giants are home putting out food for everybody. Maybe she has an affection for me because I give her the very best morsels a dog could ever eat, yesterday's catfood. It's the same as Neapolitan ice cream. I've never seen a dog that didn't eat catfood like no matter how much there was it wasn't enough. Martha gets so aroused eating it that when there's no more she goes to chewing the styrofoam bowl it was in. Martha is young enough that she still has her puppydog eyes that could charm Scrooge McDuck. She dances up and down on her back legs so excited to see me, eyes beaming love messages to me, eyes flashing love for me. I'm finding tone of voice, a human bark, trains her better than the physical part of stiff arming. I think it's because she's tuned in with me such that all she wants is my attention. Just speaking a word to her is as satisfying as a touch on the back.



Out walking on the road with her I found if I talk to her, speaking every once in awhile, keeping her comfortable she's in my attention, she marches out ahead and does her dog thing looking for anything that might be moving off in the woods or anyplace. She and Jolene found 3 deer. Jolene went after them and barked and kept on barking and kept on. I was glad to see Martha did not chase them, she came back to walk with me. A dog that doesn't catch on that chasing deer is futility, that a dog will never catch one, is a dog I take for a bit slow, slow minded. Jolene has loving puppydog eyes too. With her, again, just the attention of eye contact was the same as a touch on the back.



All the time outside, the landscape everywhere I looked was as gorgeous as landscape gets. I found myself most interested in the shapes of the tree branches on out to the twigs, all covered in ice and brought to life by the sunlight like vanGogh paintings. It was as beautiful as I've seen it. I've seen ice on everything before, but not like this. This is a special show I'll never see again. A one day only cosmic event. Returning to the house, I had hands in pockets warming fingertips. They were painfully cold and it took them a while to get warm again.

CRAZY DOG

spring flood


Earlier, I was out walking in the woods with camera. Came home, looking at the pictures, this one on the screen, I clicked the negative button and the above happened. To my eye, it looks like flood water flowing through a forest. Or desert moving in taking over a forest. The flow lines I was looking for with the shadows worked to my satisfaction best in this image. I chose to show you the negative because of the flow lines. In fact, the negative is about the flow lines, and the positive is about the trees. In the negative, it looks like it might be in a book I have called Contemporary Japanese Prints, printed in 1985. Usually, I'm disappointed in what comes up when I click on the negative button, so I don't do it much. Today, I wanted to see what it would do with the lines on the snow. Pow.



I'd stepped outside to go to the mailbox and one of Allan's dog's was here, Martha, the rowdiest and most excitable, and fortunately, the smallest, or almost. She's a growing puppy. I put out the leftover catfood for her and she went at it like she was trying to get it all in one bite. She eats like that at home too. She came up the least one of half a dozen, so she had to struggle to get what she needed for herself among the bigger dogs going for what they need too. She's a jumpy, yappy, completely out of control puppy, the kind that jumps on you and keeps on jumping on you, cannot stay down. I put my hand down in front of her nose so she can't jump, and gradually fade that impulse out of her, but then next time I see her it's back like it was, of course.



When I closed the door, I thought, I'm moaning and groaning that it's no fun to walk without a dog, giving that as my justification for not exercising, and lo! a dog is at my door wanting to go out and play. I put on coat and hat, picked up camera and went out the door. A bit of a struggle with the dog's impulse to jump, keeping my hand down in front of her nose until she wore herself out looking for a way around the hand that moved as she moved. She settled down by the time we reached the road. She'd go ahead a little ways, then turn and run to me wanting to jump on me and we'd play that game again. Then she'd go off ahead again, and be back again. The last time, she came jumping and her right rear foot somehow went under where my foot came down from the step in progress. It held her foot a split-second and she fell over backwards. She landed on her back and let out a yelp. She jumped up and the foolishness went out of her. When she came around, it wasn't jumping. From the look on her face when she got up, I had the impression she believed it was done with intent. I didn't have intent, but could have, so I left off apologies.



She became something of a walking companion after that, and I was thinking I'll put food out for her every day and she can come over and we'll go walking. Then she'll start thinking she lives here and that won't do so well. The cats don't accept dogs, any dogs, especially rowdy dogs.
That will have to be whatever it turns out to be. Winter, she'll learn to go home at night where she's let in the house. We could get a good rhythm going with her coming here daily for a walk. Or not. It doesn't matter what happens. She may just come over every once in awhile. That's ok too. As we spend time together she'll settle out of the jumpiness. I enjoyed watching her run about out in front, looking off into the field to our right frequently, looking for something to move that she can chase. I was thinking when we're in the snow will be a good time to get some pictures of her. Martha has the markings of so many breeds of dogs mixed together, all you can say is she's a dog. I thought snow background might bring out her unusual face markings, like white paper around a portrait.



As soon as we reached the woods and the snow, Martha thought she saw something move in the woods. She ran off, head and ears up, tail up, bounding on alert to find out what it was. I thought she'd be back. I went along, taking my time getting pictures. Martha is barking in the near distance, out of sight. Barking, barking. I holler, shut up crazy dog! every once in awhile, to hear my own head roar. She kept it up and kept it up as I began to question if the dog had a possum flopped over playing dead, or a coon up a tree. No, they're night critters. Deer? Probably not, we're too obvious. I kept on walking, going where I wanted to go, snapping a picture here and there, getting shadow lines vertical in some and horizontal in some, looking to see what makes a good shadow on the ground in the woods with snow picture. And the dog continued to bark.



I came out of the woods into the road and saw Martha in front of my house, standing on the snow beside the road, barking into the woods across the road and up the long bank. Her stance said she was ready to run the other direction the moment she saw something move. I had a feeling she got spooked by whatever it was she went chasing when she couldn't find it. I wondered about her intelligence, and assessed it pretty good. When freaked out in the woods, run to the house, the safe zone the wild things stay away from. She is, after all, a puppy. When she saw me, she was jumpy again, and a few times of hand in front of nose discouraged the jumping. She was looking at my eyes and I was telling her with my eyes I'm not mad at her, she's my friend, I like her, and we can have a good time if you'll contain your excitement. I know self-control is a lot to ask of a puppy, and it will take awhile.



Heading toward the door to the house, I was remembering Aster the dog teaching the kittens that are cats now to stay out of the road in their first days of walking. I'd put them outside for a bit to let them crawl around on the ground. Whenever one would look like it was heading for the road, Aster turned it gently with her nose, changing its direction to back where it came from. That was it with the kittens and the road. I've often thought since, there must have been some invisible communication between them, because all I saw was dog turning kitten around, but it took deeper than that.



I believe if the dog and I take walks together the rowdiness will go out of her before long. When she finds she doesn't have to be in my face to have my attention, we'll have a good rhythm together. I imagine she knows when Allan comes home and will go home then. She wants to sleep indoors and be fed her regular meal too. The other dogs need never know Martha had the very best today, catfood.