Thursday, June 09, 2011

Evening primroses




What do they have
to teach me of grasping and letting go?



(Vespertine, Luisa A. Igloria at Via Negativa )


I happened on Luisa's poem and the patch of evening primroses, still up and about, on the same morning.  So glad I did. Timely and beautiful.  I am continually astounded by the the glorious Luisa's wonderful work at Via Negativa, such a delicate and generous profligacy.  I want a book of it.  Please.
~~~

Our main big laptop computer died suddenly and without warning a couple of days ago, carrying quite a few photographs, and rather more important things on Tom's side.  However, the Erwanns and Erwannettes of Gigahertz,  while not able to save the machine itself, or not least not at any worthwhile cost, were able to shunt everything on it onto the external hard drive where it is sitting until its replacement arrives, presumably some time next week. So, although I could access the other photos,  at the moment I'm just working with recently taken stuff directly off the SD card in the card reader of the notebook, which is really rather refreshing.


9 comments:

Zhoen said...

You remind me of how lucky I am to have a former, but still capable, IT guy living with me.

Jean said...

Gorgeous photos in a realy subtle and satisfying response to a gorgeous poem. The 'claw-shaped shadows' wonderfully captured here.

JP said...

Box Elder is in my blogroll, maintained to help me keep track of blogs I like to read. That's probably why I'm listed as a traffic source. I'm surprised anyone finds you through my rather moribund blog, but glad they do.

Plutarch said...

You are so right but Louisa Ingloria's poems. As inspiring as they are themselvees inspired by Dave Bonta's porch twitters.

Rosie said...

I havent seen the lovely boys at giga for a while now, touch wood! They are sweeties though.

Lucy said...

Thanks all.

JP, welcome! Well evidently some found their way through yours or you wouldn't have cropped up! I am slightly suspicious of suddenly inexplicably elevated stats, and fear I am being targeted by something or someone undesirable, which is not how I would describe you. Your blog is worth visiting for the sidebar rant about copyright crybabies alone!

Rosie, long ago I dubbed them theErwanns, as this seems to be what many of them are called. This time,however, there was a feisty, no-nonsense young woman on the tech side, so she must be an Erwannette! They are indeed very helpful, even though they couldn't get me a qwerty laptop...

zephyr said...

Oh. i appreciate the reminder to back up my stuff...and to continue to mull over that whole "cloud" concept. i'm still hesitant...

Bee said...

I'm with Zephyr. Your tale of computer woe is a cautionary one for all of us, I'm sure.

But the primroses! You capture their delicacy so beautifully. I really like these mosaic collages you've been doing recently.
Gardening does constantly reinforce this thought -- about grasping (not sure I would use that word, though) and letting go. Sometimes I feel so terribly sad when a particular favourite (the irises, or peonies, for example) blooms -- and I know that's it, just a few days or a week, for the entire year. But then they (usually) come back again . . . unlike other wonderful things. And what can we do but accept the nature of transitoriness in everything?

marly youmans said...

Oh, these are wonderful with Luisa's poem. (Well, they would be wonderful on their own, but they are marvelous with her words.)