I tied a smallish, size 18, black nymph; a version of a Copper John but with a ultra fine black wire. First I used the macro lens to show the image near a couple of pebbles. But, then I got the idea, for some reason, to attach the fly to a popcorn kernel to further show its size. Yes, go figure. I suppose a small ruler would suffice but instead I busted out popcorn kernels and attempted to capture something…I am sure. A bit blurry and the lighting was not great. Still you get the idea of scale.
How many mutations and looks? Ever changing, tumbling, slipping by…dancing, spinning, pushing by. Nature’s, life’s quicksilver, felt but then gone…seen for a moment then through the fingers gone, only a trace remaining to remind.
“Poetry is ever accompanied with pleasure: all spirits on which it falls open themselves to receive the wisdom which is mingled with its delight. In the infancy of the world, neither poets themselves nor their auditors are fully aware of the excellence of poetry: for it acts in a divine and unapprehended manner, beyond and above consciousness; and it is reserved for future generations to contemplate and measure the mighty cause and effect in all the strength and splendor of their union.”
The first Robins are chirping in the dark. The rain falls. Sleepiness evaporates as the cat attacks my exposed toes. Time to rise and shine….well rise at least. To the impatient annoyance of the two cats and two dogs, who are energized at the prospect of breakfast, I stop to gather some images of the light and shadows along the stairway.