Random Visuals

Impressions of the last few days, in no particular order:

GIANT RAT VS. TOMATO: In a moment of weakness, I have bought a pound of fat, delicious vine tomatoes. I have gone through them and selected the reddest and plumpest of their number. It is sitting on my plate, glistening with the promise of paradise (and maybe a little leftover soap). My mouth is watering in a spellbound sort of way. The tomato has bewitched me. Unfortunately, I am not the only one thus enchanted. I feel a tug on my trouserleg. It's Stella, trying to climb into my lap. She is squealing already, in anticipation of her treat. I cannot squelch such eagerness. I hold out the tomato, and she dives in nose-first. The fruit ruptures, unleashing a rowdy fountain of seeds. My carpet absorbs a new stain. One enterprising seed finds its way into Stella's ear. She looks up at me, grinning, with tomato parts all over her face.

BIRD I HAVEN'T SEEN BEFORE: My solarium has, of late, become overrun by boxes. I hate the slovenly appearance they give, but enjoy hiding behind them while birdwatching. It makes me feel like I'm on a real birding expedition, taking cover amongst the reeds and bushes while I await the avian legions.

At any rate, there I am, crouched behind my cardboard screen, writing imaginary field-notes on the aerial antics of gulls, when I see it: the bird I haven't seen before. It's small and black and round-headed, hovering in confused little circles above the Pacific Press building. Its tail is wide, flat, and forky. At first, I guess I'm seeing a swallow, but some poking about on the Internet convinces me I have, in fact, spotted a black swift (Cypseloides niger). I am inordinately pleased: we don't get those too often, round these parts. If no-one else saw it, that means it was my black swift. Mine. I put a note in my imaginary field-journal: Most unusual sighting today: a handsome black swift, surveying the local skyscrapers. Alas, he soon departed, dissatisfied with these urban scapes. Perhaps local architects might make a point of adorning their buildings with small trees and creepers, in hopes of making them more attractive to cliff-nesting birds?

RAT, BAD; TIRED:

The start of an Internet-wide yawn chain-reaction?

VULTURE, GREATER; DEAD:

I have, for now, completed my quest for the perfect Greater Short-Necked Spatulate Vulture, pictured here, at the end of his life-cycle, having completely metamorphosed into a tree. (His head is off to the left, there, almost completely obscured by bark.)

This drawing was a bit of a landmark in more ways than one: it also marks my first successful scan of an image more than ten inches long. (This is approximately 20" wide, possibly a little longer.)

RAT, GHOST; DYING? Not yet. I am recovering from a period of unusually poor health, but the operative word here is "recovering". Journal updates may be sporadic for a while, yet, since I am still more interested in sleeping and working than in doing much of anything else, but I should be back to normal soon.