Monday Zen and other Unsure Things
You know, speaking of moths... well on the topic of insects, the most uncommon thing happened near my restroom sink yesterday. This fly was buzzing around me, then well... I do nothing to it. All of a sudden it just falls out of the air on to the sink and stops moving.Quite odd witnessing a wild insect reach the end of it's natural life.
I can't stop staring at this photo. The moth looks like a dissected pansy.Lindsey, I had a similar thing happen to me last week. I was sitting in a Thai restaurant, observing a fly buzzing about. Suddenly, it decides to take a nose dive right into my soup!
patience on the edge of panepersists
Susan, I think that was just stupidity, not naturally-caused insect death.
I think that is the hugest moth I've ever seen! Speaking of which, a moth family has decided to move into one of my county-issued desk drawers. Every time I open this one deep drawer, a moth flies out and flips me out!! I'm going to tell them to move to Pasadena ;)
Nice photo, Petrea!Our library is doing a reading program all about insects right now and they have 3 HUGE moths that they are hatching from cocoons there in the children's section. Two of the three had hatched as of yesterday, and they are very large--about 3 inches tall and 4 inches wide. We actually got to "pet" on and it moved its wings. Very interesting. We're going to check back tomorrow and see if the other had hatched.
Stunning photo - I think this is one of my favorites so far! As much as the moth is the main attraction, I love the view of the simple house from the window.Reminds me of the first lines from Shelley:The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow
Insects are not known for their intelligence, but maybe that fly knew a good Thai soup when he saw it.The best poetry is economical, Elaine. Or economic. Nice.I wonder what kind of bugs you'd get if it were a city desk, Pont Girl!Thanks, Christie. I'm amazed they let you pet a moth. Soft? Thank you, Katie. And more economic poetry. Shelley knew how.
Permit the words from an Ian Anderson song, “Moths”:The leaded window openedto move the dancing candle flameAnd the first moths of summersuicidal came.And a new breeze chatteredin its May-bud tenderness—sending water lillies sailingas she turned to get undressed.And the long night awakenedand we soared on powdered wings—circling our tomorrowsin the wary month of Spring.Chasing shadows, slippingin a magic lantern slide—creatures of the candleon a night-light-ride.Dipping and weaving—flutteredthrough the golden needle's eyein our haystack madness. Butterfly-stroking on a springtide high."Life's too long," (as the Lemming said)as the candle burned and the moths were wed.And we'll all burn together as the wick grows higher—before the candle's dead.The leaded window openedto move the dancing candle flame.And the first moths of summersuicidal cameTo join in the worshipof the light that never diesin a moment's reflectionof two moths spinning in her eyes(1978)To hear the song:http://tinyurl.com/635wdl
By the way, how was the soup? Extra kick to it since a fly drowned in it?
I love this one, and the comment by susan that it looks like a dissected pansy really is funny.o, this makes me think so strongly of Barbara Kingsolver's wonderful, beautiful "Prodigal Summer." It's been a few years since I read it and I went straight to my bookcase to retrieve it!
Ah, Bernie, a song of mad youth, is it not? And the video of Ian--he was too young and foolish to know so much. Like a retrospective before its time.Lindsey, I'll bet susan didn't finish it so we'll probably have to ask the fly! Lydia, thanks for the recommendation. I need a new book. By the way, if y'all like food, you might want to check out Susan Carrier's blog, especially if you're local. So glad you stopped by, Susan.
A beautiful photo.(psst - you're over here - http://poofanditsgone.blogspot.com/
I woke up thinking of you this morning, Letty. Vibes across the globe.
Post a Comment