Consuming Passions Long slender legs to her armpits; beautiful eyes flashed her carnal intent. He had been looking for her his whole life. Their eyes locked, bodies swaying together in lovers’ embrace. A question hung between them. He: “What do you want?” She: “To devour you.” And then he lost his head.
This poem was inspired by two mating praying mantises I photographed last week. Sometimes the female mantis, the smaller of the two, eats the head of the male mantis during copulation. The male is able to continue the deed without his head for a short time as apparently he has a separate mini-brain in his abdomen. Talk about being ruled by the little head! I confess that I had to look away.
Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a poem that anthropomorphises a kind of food, and ask yourself how the food feels about it.
Alrighty, gruesome.
Bon Appétit, everyone.
Kind Regards. Tracy.
NaPoWriMo #20 For information on the copulating appetites of praying mantises, here is an article from The Guardian.
I once thought “bokeh” referred to the circles, sometimes sparkly, that you often see in the background of a photo taken with a macro or telephoto lens. I’ve moved on from that and I now like to think of bokeh as the aura surrounding the subject of the photo, the bokeh being that little bit of voodoo magic performed by the camera to blur out the background so that the subject has centre stage. That is purely my artistic view and not a technical definition. I prefer my bokeh soft and calm and not swishy/choppy, but this is easier said than done. The exception to that is when the bokeh is being used for creative effect. If for any reason it is not possible to achieve the effect desired, I would rather take the photo “as is”, and enjoy what I’ve seen. Hence, you will see less than perfect bokeh on my site. Hopefully, the photos will still be interesting.
A messy background, my position and camera shake affected the quality of the bokeh/aura in my photo of this kookaburra below. The bokeh is not to my taste but how could you not love a face like that?
Laughing Kookaburra (Dacelo novaeguineae), Australian National Botanic Gardens
Now for my photography partner’s photo. He was further up the hill than I was and his extra height meant that he was able to access a much nicer background, and hence, lovely bokeh.
Kookaburra – Australian National Botanic Gardens
Look! Even with my little camera, I can still achieve a lovely blurred background if I am lucky to find myself close to my subject and there is a reasonable amount of separation between it and the background.
Silvereye (Zosterops lateralis) in the Canberra suburbs
It is difficult to capture that lovely blurred background effect with fast moving little birds. A really fancy camera or lots of patience is required. I therefore like to see what my little camera can make of plants. Trees in sheltered spots are great for this. The filtered light provides a beautiful tonal calm backdrop to the bark of this Pinus canarienis at Canberra’s Lyndsay Pryor Arboretum. The dark colour of the bark is a result of being burnt in the 2003 bushfires.
Canary Island Pine (Pinus canariensis), Lyndsay Pryor Arboretum, Canberra)
And below, I couldn’t resist the combination of the young eucalyptus leaves against the muted yellow plants in the background (probably paper daisies like those in the foreground), which were themselves set against the darker green of the heavily shaded area in the far back. I wouldn’t classify this as bokeh or an aura, but without my camera to see this stunning plant against the blurred background, it might not have caught my eye so. My botanist son’s best guess is that the tree is a native of Western Australia, Eucalyptus macrocarpa. WA plants are always show stoppers. What do you think, WA readers? Did my son guess right?
Mottlecah (Eucalyptus macrocarpa) tbc – Australian National Botanic Gardens
And, finally, this creamy milk chocolate background is a perfect complement to the fungi growing in fallen timber. Photography can be such a time waster but there are worse things we could be doing.
Thanks for reading this far, everyone. I have a couple more photos of the kookaburra that I will share soon. In the meantime, take care and take photos.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you. But first, a poem.
In Your Likeness What do you see when you look into your soul? Bloodshed, torture and depravity? Is this your version of humanity? Not fit unless made in your likeness.
Today I’ve chosen Pan’s Labyrinth Lullaby, composed by Javier Navarrete for Guillermo del Toro’s film.
In Australia, there are whispers of a murderous cabal of people-eating koalas. Known colloquially as “drop bears”, their location is known only to Aussies, who avoid them for dear life. The modus operandi of the drop bear is to drop down from the trees onto unsuspecting visitors. That’s when things get gruesome. But times are a-changing, ladies and gentlemen. Survival of our respective species, of the planet, means we will all need to reduce our meat consumption. Let’s see how that goes. Gather round.
Blood red eyes, dagger claws, give lie to that sweet furry body and button nose. “To our sacrifice and to yours!” The leader of the Drop Bears includes the captive in her hypnotic gaze. Then, in a booming bark, she projects to the crowd, “One last time. For tomorrow we turn vegan.” The crowd blanches, then tentatively at first, begins to chant,“Flu-ffy. Flu-ffy.” “But tonight. Tonight, Sisters. Tonight, Brothers. Tonight, there will be feasting on more meaty prey.” “Flu-ffy. Flu-ffy.” Silence falls – or maybe drops – as the throng gathers to feast. Finally, a shout rings out. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow, we dine on the Infidel.” The crowd roars. “Flu-ffy. Flu-ffy.”
A Vegetable’s Nightmare The silence ripples. Beyond the shadows, beyond the adulation, in gardens across the country, the infidels quiver in their beds.
If you are a visitor to Australia and plan on visiting koala habitat, best do that during the day. Koalas and their kin, the drop bears, are nocturnal and feed at night. There’s no telling if the drop bears will honour their resolution.
Day 5 of the NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a poem about a mythical person or creature (drop bears are more secretive than mythical) doing something unusual – or at least something that seems unusual in relation to that person/creature. I made a slight deviation from the brief, but near enough is good enough.
Stay safe, everyone. Kind Regards. Tracy.
PS. I had rather too much fun setting up the photos. I’ve had the koala toy since I was a baby.
There has been many a twist and turn, and a few curve balls thrown at us over the last few weeks.
My mother and step-father visited from up north, skirting the floods that have left thousands homeless on the east coast of Australia. It has been over two years since I had my hair cut. My mother plaited it for me. The plait was a bit wonky, so perfect for me.
I have been rather quiet over the last few months living my ordinary life in extraordinary times. Ordinary does not mean dull or insignificant. Such is life in these days of extremes. I have spent an inordinate amount of time at my special place, ie. home. It might not be perfect, posh or pristine, but it has everything we need. Every window has a view of the garden and its inhabitants.
The theme for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is Low Light. I thought I would join in. I enjoy low light photography. The words moody and dramatic spring to mind. It’s the realm of the arty farty, don’t you think? I like that word. Realm. I like arty farty too. Anyway, today I have four photos. The first three were snapped by my True Love (TL) and I took, and mucked around with, the fourth one. Please note that we don’t do mornings.
The wild weather keeps coming, doesn’t it? We don’t have to wait to know how incredibly difficult sustaining life, livelihood and shelter will become if we exceed 1.5c degrees of warming.
All over the world, we are already experiencing the results of poor climate policy decisions. It has been a particularly stormy few months in eastern Australia, and it makes me wild. Like the wind. It does not pay to get too attached to your garden or the trees, for Canberra, the bush capital, is being rapidly re-modelled.
Canberra (Australia) – If I poke December, it dissolves like it never was. If I poke December, it stammers and clamours. It beckons and repels. It comes and it goes. Certain and uncertain. Before reaching, a resolution?
Reflections of An Untidy Mind 