wordless wednesday

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Other Wordless Friends—

Cheryl Andrews
Allison Howard
Barbara Lambert
Allyson Latta
Elizabeth Yeoman

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25 thoughts on “wordless wednesday

  1. This is so funny – we’re on a peacocks theme today! I love the way this one is ambling down the road, shoulders back, bum swaying, just owning the day!

    1. I was influenced by the feathery tone things had taken… so dug this up. And you know what? I think his bum IS swaying a bit… (;

    1. In Florida a couple of years ago I was amazed at how many there were wandering about different yards. I wondered: are they pets? guard birds?? mobile lawn ornaments? I don’t think I’ve ever heard one speak.

  2. “On the road again…” Oh, you made me burst out laughing Ms. Magtree! Oblivious of the traffic, away he goes. Owning the day indeed, as Allison says. Lovely picture! Is he a neighbourhood critter?

    1. I hadn’t thought of an accompanying soundtrack, but that’s perfect! And, yes, he’s a neighbourhood critter but not here… in Coconut Grove, FLA. The home of fascinating critters.

  3. Now that is a bird with Attitude. Love the composition — him in the middle of that long road (owning it), with just the solitary car showing in the top right in juxtaposition. His colours are vibrant — striking against the grey of the street. Is he on his way somewhere? Lost?

  4. What an amazing coincidence, your photo and Allison’s! I am going to post the same comment I posted to hers because it is a fascinating (I thought) cut and paste from a website I found, and apropos of yours as well as hers, and since I am a bit belated in my comment, you may not see it on hers:

    Anonymous (before 1665)

    These following are to be understood in two ways.

    I Saw a Peacock, with a fiery tail,
    I saw a Blazing Comet, drop down hail,
    I saw a Cloud, with Ivy circled round,
    I saw a sturdy Oak, creep on the ground,
    I saw a Pismire, swallow up a Whale,
    I saw a raging Sea, brim full of Ale,
    I saw a Venice Glass, Sixteen foot deep,
    I saw a well, full of mens tears that weep,
    I saw their eyes, all in a flame of fire,
    I saw a House, as big as the Moon and higher,
    I saw the Sun, even in the midst of night,
    I saw the man, that saw this wondrous sight.

    pismire is an archaic term for an ant

    In First Loves, Margaret Atwood describes this “trick” poem as “the first poem I can remember that opened up the possibility of poetry for me.”

    1. What a wonderful question!

      When I was ten or eleven I used to love reading the poetry books that my [much older and, by then, married and moved out] sister had left behind–and according to the stamps on the, pilfered from high school. I was drawn to things about animals and trees and living in nature. The one I loved most was ‘Violet and Oak’ by W.H. Davies. About a seedling sprouted from an acorn in the forest and, towering next to it, a violet, and how different the scene would be in “Five hundred years from now!/ When your straight back’s so strong that though/ Your leaves were lead on every bough,/ It would not break–I’ll think of you/ When, weak and small, your sweetheart was/ A little violet in the grass.”

      It was this poem, and a few others in those books, that made me realize there were many ways to tell a story.

      There followed a few notebooks filled with lines like “silvery shimmery wintery air” but that part’s best left untold. (;

    1. I’d love to say I was walking past a building and saw this guy, but it’s an image from a documentary about a day in the life of Chicago. A really quite brilliant piece of film seen at the MOCA last month. I snapped a few shots in the dark… and these two turned out.

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