The un-retouched photos from a walk on the creek reveal how we might “see things” there. This shadow always looks humanoid, and comes festooned with riffles, dazzles and leaves. Who all’s out there? Who or what?
Casual personification along the creek. Oops. That’s what the brain does, seeing patterns in clouds or water, especially human faces and forms. I come by it naturally, as they say.
And I’m not done with last fall either, we’re looking back to November here. Every angle, every instant, means another switcheroo. What’s in that water, anyway?
Most pictures just tell of the stream, the rocky stream bed, the sky, the light, the forest. We’re cool that way, too:
“They’re out there,” says Bud my Editing Cat. “What did I tell you?! I hear a cacophony of critters around us all the time. From that sector I also hear rushing and trickling sounds with voices like yours! So that’s what they look like! Let me loose down that way, I’ll get ’em!”
“Um, no, not what you hear, Buddy, it’s running water, the harmonics sound like voices; nothing’s there; the rustles and squeaks are rodents, raccoons, possums. You can’t go …. Let’s look at something else.”:
A giant leaf and its companions.
“I just want to chase them. Snort, chuff ….”
“You know that’s not actual size you see on the computer screen, don’t cha? They look to be mouse-sized but they’re bigger than you, and me.”
“A swamp thing!”
“Then they’re sea nymphs! Maybe they’ll bring me tuna, really fresh tuna straight outta the drink …. ”
” … Purrrrrr. You see, they’re back!”
“Um … ”
A short time later and it’s all breaking up, going downstream. It’s fun to see them emerge, grab our imaginations, then flee.
“I just personify everything, Buddy, I’m shameless that way. They’re gone.”
“Aren’t you personifying me? Anthropomorphizing me? I’m still here.”
A sneak preview of forest posts to come. I must now vanish for a time to work on getting my book out, but we had exceptional light in our forest last fall and I’m not done posting it:
Bud turns and strolls away to sulk, flipping his tail at me.
I was busy indoors, too. This is photo edited, just a little:
I didn’t hear Bud pad up. “RAWR at all that color! Did you slip out while I was napping and go to Mardi Gras? And who’s the Othercat? That’s not me.”
“That’s Jim, a wandering feral, like you once were. And those aren’t Mardi Gras colors, those would be green, gold, and purple. How do you know about Mardi Gras, anyway?”
“But you’ll probably like your editor’s portrait this time.”
“Ah, I’m cool with that picture. We’ll close with purrrrr.”
For another creek post where Bud and I discuss what’s out there, see this: