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POTD: Some Outside Help I Don’t Really Need

Some Outside Help I Don’t Really Need
Bozeman, Montana
2021

We have a supposedly bear-proof bird feeder hanging from a crossbar on top of this tall pole. It’s on the end of a rope so it can be lowered down to refill it. Lately we seem to have acquired some help with caring for it. He’s a slow learner but I think he’ll eventually catch on. (Unfortunately.)

 

 

POTD: Selections From My Windowsill #6

Selections From My Windowsill #6
Bozeman, Montana
2021

Bitterroot is the state flower of Montana but it is rare in our general area. So we are fortunate to have a regular showing of them every year on dry ridge on our land. Deep pink and showy when in full bloom, they dry to a delicate translucent creamy husk.

POTD: Selections From My Windowsill #5

Selections From My Windowsill #5
Bozeman, Montana
2021

If you make a circle out of wish rocks, does that grant you an even bigger wish than all of them combined randomly? Maybe I should as Andrew Goldsworthy, it seems like he might know about stuff like this.

POTD: Selections From My Windowsill #4

Selections From My Windowsill #4
Bozeman, Montana
2021

A few years back I participated in a art exhibit and artists tour in the Gansu Province of China. One day on the tour we were invited to watch a film about Chinese beef production at a cattle farm followed by some art lab presentations by some of the touring artists. (Don’t ask me why we were on the cattle farm and why they thought showing us a film about their cattle business that we couldn’t understand was a good ide–it’s just one of the mysteries of touring with a Chinese art organization.) The film wasn’t very interesting (for one thing it was all in Chinese with no translation or subtitles) and the art methods presented weren’t in my bailiwick.

Ordinarily in such circumstances I would just tough it out and I tried to do so on that day. But the room was stifling hot so I finally snuck out and sat in the shade on the concrete stoop on a gravel parking lot. While sitting there, I noticed a plethora of these small pebble-sized wish rocks mixed in with the ordinary rocks in the gravel. (A wish rock is a rock with a line circling around it. If you find one, you get a wish granted. Or so the story goes.) So I entertained myself by searching for and collecting some of them. Each time I picked one up my wish was that no one would come out of the building and make me go back into the heat inside. My wish was granted–the only people who came out were just a few other folks looking for an escape from the heat and boredom as well.