Tiny toad or maybe a frog
I have finally bought a DV Camcorder and am having a ball recording all
sorts of stuff. Yesterday we went for a long walk on a little used wooded path in Lake Farifax Park. Even though it is August,
the day was mild and the sun came and went. This park is a large tract of land, mostly deciduous forest, with a smallish lake.
I got shots of a black butterfly, which paused and preened for quite a long time. The camera's zoom lens got closer than I
ever could. And a tiny frog or toad, mottled to blend perfectly with his mud and rock surroundings, was spotted only because
he happened to be on the path when I went by and hopped a ways before freezing again. Once again, the DV corder allowed me
to get close-ups unimaginable if I tried to step that close. There was a three-D space, closer than which I knew I could not
go. When I stepped inside it, sure enough, he was gone. I'll try to capture a frame any place it with this post.
It rained and rained
 Most
of the time, I observe, we spend time avoiding the rain, lamenting about rain, or, perhaps, wishing for rain, but not really
wanting to be out in the rain.
I remember the rain sweeping down the gutter in the center of the alley
so fast that for a while it became a stream for us 6-year-olds to play.
I remember, as a teenager, running through a thunderstorm with a friend,
our faces to the rain, getting joyfully soaking wet, just because we could.
Monday I was caught in the rain. I was trying to take some digital video
film -- my latest project to learn to make videos -- so I filmed the rain coming down steadily at Connecticut and K Sts.
When I played it back, I thought how lovely the city looked in its grey
raincoat.
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