wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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Prowlers

Smoke from California wildfires is back again. This is the sun in the late afternoon.

Hours later, I saw the full moon rise, looking just as red.

I didn’t know whether to open or close the sliding glass door for the night, but decided on a compromise, half open.

Once the moon was gone, the household was asleep in pitch dark. Emma’s sudden sharp barking had me leaping out of bed. After shushing her, I stood by the open deck door, listening. Scritchety-scratch, scrabbling came from the nearby fir trees. I got the flashlight out and discovered the prowlers. Two of them!

They weren’t shy. I know they’ve been here before. This time they were after the hazelnuts that Lincoln hadn’t managed to steal yet. The Captain held the light while I snapped the picture.

In the morning I found new holes dug in the grass. I felt guilty about having accused the rabbits of making those holes a few weeks ago, but maybe they were all guilty of having digging parties. Not sure what they were digging for, but they could get jobs on an open-pit mine site.


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Not “Hoo” but Where?

It was an owly night. I couldn’t sleep for the sounds of hooting and hissing and screeching right outside my bedroom window. But WHERE were they? I needed them to get rid of those pests.

Owls are not the only animals on nightshift.

Look what that destructive little bunny did to my front yard. I don’t know what he’s digging for. I suspect it’s the roots of those tiny dandelion-like flowers (weeds). He must have heard the owls, but these roots are so yummy (I guess), it’s worth the risk of becoming dinner himself.

He deposits some tiny raisins of fertilizer – a snack for Emma and Ruby –  to show his appreciation for the midnight snack, but … those huge holes are everywhere.

Einstein and the junior professor are asleep at the switch. I guess that’s what happens when you stay up all hootin’ night.

 

 

The night was black until the moon

Lit up the darkness and the gloom,

“Soft lighting on our dinner plate,”

The old owl says, “It’s getting late.

Glide down with me. I’ll show you how

To catch this rabbit. Come! Right now!”

 

As Einstein swooped on silent wings

He thought, Tonight we’ll dine like kings.

The bunny leapt, he heard the whoosh,

As talons missed his ears and tush.

Into the hedge he slipped away

“I’ll eat those roots another day.”

 

 

“The holes I’ve dug will still be there

I’ve dug so many everywhere.

I know that Anne-li will be mad

And curse me out for being bad,

But everybody’s got to eat,

As long as I’m not Owl Meat.”

 


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Super Worm Moon

I had to try for these photos of the super moon tonight. I was surprised to see that the moon lit up a few of the holly berries  where it shone through the leaves. You can see a bit of red on the berries.

After I came into the house again, I found out about this full moon in March being called a super moon. It has many other names, but one that I hadn’t heard before was a worm moon, named for the castings of earthworms making lumpy designs on the grass. When I zoomed in on the moon, I thought, yes, it does look like a bit of a minefield of earthworm “process.”

 

Tonight (Sunday), the moon looked full and beautiful, but the actual full moon is tomorrow, so you can still go looking for it on Monday night.

I wish you all a super day!


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Waxing Gibbous?

“Waxing gibbous”…. This expression made me think of a group of gibbons depilating themselves. After all, the hairless chest is the look these days (in some people’s opinion).

But no, waxing gibbous refers to when the moon is waxing (growing) towards becoming fully illuminated by the sun.

I learned a new word today when I finally looked up “gibbous” instead of just using the word ignorantly. It means “convex or protuberant” – sticking out, like bulgy eyes. I think they used that choice of words because the gibbous phase of the moon is when it is more than half but not quite full.

I grew up with the phrase “the man in the moon” and I still see two eyes and a mouth when I look at the moon.

However, while visiting in Baja,  I met a friend there who told me they call it the rabbit in the moon, “el conejo en la luna.”  Sure enough, when I looked for a rabbit, I saw it. There he is in the photo below. He’s facing to the left with his long floppy ears streaming over his back. Do you see him? They even have a legend about how he got there.

Quetzalcoatl was tired and hungry. He had traveled far, so he sat down by the side of the road to rest. A little rabbit came along and chatted with him. When the rabbit learned that Quetzalcoatl was hungry, he offered him vegetables to eat, but Quetzelcoatl said he didn’t care much for veggies. He needed something more substantial.

“But I’m only a small insignificant rabbit, and this is the only food I have to offer,” the rabbit said.

Quetzalcoatl was moved by the humility and generosity of the rabbit and he rose up to the moon with the rabbit. He said, “Now you will no longer be insignificant, but be seen and admired by everyone forevermore.”

My own opinion about this legend is, that’s all very nice, but no one asked the rabbit if he wanted to spend the rest of his life up there on the cold lonely moon. It reminded me of people who help blind people cross the road when all they wanted to do was stand on the street corner.

So what do you see? The man or the rabbit? Or both?

Whichever you see, as of this morning’s full moon, it is no longer waxing, but will start waning. Sigh, now I should do a post about Wayne….