For the past couple of years I have collected autumn leaves that have freshly fallen. I usually tuck them in the pages of a book and they become pleasant little surprises when I open a leafed book. This year I was going to do that and photograph them using a great ultra macro lens I bought for my Nikon camera. I picked up vibrant or interesting leaves, set them on my dining room table that has become my mini photo studio, and...nothing. Within a few hours the leaves dry and shrivel. Plus, that great lens is less great because I have cataracts and I can't see well enough to closely focus on whatever I put in front of that lens. But, I can use a different lens and take pictures of leaves that are still attached to a tree. This one was taken in October when I went on a photo trip to the Leelenau Peninsula. The leaves are importantly predictable. They mark the beginnings of withering daylight and hard cold that eventually slips gently into longer days and green. I hate the cold and the dark. I sang 4 concerts this past weekend, fully masked. There were 80 of us onstage, shoulder to shoulder. We were all masked and vaccinated, but Omicron now stands in the wings. Who knows when it will enter and how it will change us. The leaves loosened by fading sunlight and cold temperatures are predictable and at least dazzle us with color. Covid isn't predictable and it doesn't dazzle.
December 8, 2021
My partner's dad is in the hospital. He might not live much longer. It's not COVID. He's 88 years old and the journey over the rainbow is likely well underway. Losing a parent or helping a parent die is never easy. But not being able to touch him is cruel. Only seeing him on the other side of a screen --- a man who spent most of his life without a telephone, much less a computer or iPad --- makes these encounters especially awkward. She's happy to see him but he looks odd, probably because he stares into the screen and often I think his eyes are glazing but I'm told he's just trying to make sense of this new technology. Talking into a screen has never been his thing. How can it suddenly make sense to a man alone on his death bed?
April 8, 2021