Autumn Trees

Trees in autumn colours

North of ACC.

I can’t decide which I like bet­ter. Do you have a preference?

Trees in autumn coloursTrees in autumn colours

Series: Bike Ride Photos

The entire series: Down by the riv­er; Bike ride birds; The ex-gar­den and the weir; Snap­shots of a ride; Across Town; Black­bird; North Hill cam­pus; Lilacs and coun­try roads; A pop of colour; Back lane flow­ers; More Breniz­ers; The riv­er is high; A bird and a reflec­tion; Rideau Park; Writ­ing Retreat 2020, Day 7; Writ­ing Retreat 2020: The Num­bers; Storm dam­age, sun­flow­ers; Eleanor Kidd gar­dens; Scenes from today’s ride; All right, autumn can be pret­ty; Bike ride, April 10, 2021; Bike ride wildlife; Bike ride, May 16, 2021; Some flow­ers for you; Lilacs; Under the bridge; A fence, a tree, and the sky; Tur­tle Cross­ing; Ceme­tery crit­ters; On Reflec­tion; Week­end rides; Upon Reflec­tion; Deer and paparazzi; Sep­tem­ber Bike Ride; Corn & Sun­set; On Reflec­tion: Oct. 1st; Autumn Trees.

Just people, like you and me

We’ve been watch­ing episodes of a PBS show called My Grand­par­ents’ War, where celebs like Hele­na Bon­ham Carter and Kristin Scott Thomas trace the his­to­ries of their grand­par­ents’ expe­ri­ence in WWII. Tonight we saw one fea­tur­ing Mark Rylance, and there were a cou­ple quotes that stuck out to me. I want­ed to record them before I for­get them.

Mark Rylance, walk­ing in a ceme­tery for war dead in Hong Kong (where, but for the grace of God / ran­dom chance, his grand­fa­ther might well have end­ed up), mused that he keeps hear­ing peo­ple talk­ing dis­pas­sion­ate­ly about war, as though it’s some kind of nat­ur­al event. But, he point­ed out, war is fought by peo­ple. Just peo­ple, like you and me.

Lat­er, he met with a Japan­ese his­to­ri­an who has stud­ied the POW camps that the Japan­ese ran in Hong Kong. He asked her why she chose to study the camps—a heavy ques­tion, con­sid­er­ing some of the atroc­i­ties that had been explored ear­li­er in the episode. She respond­ed, “His­to­ry does­n’t repeat itself. Peo­ple repeat it.”

Just peo­ple, like you and me. Let’s be care­ful, OK?

Snow, eh?

Snowflakes against the trees

I know, I know, I live in Cana­da. But every spring I get fooled into think­ing that maybe the snow’s done now till next winter.

Still. At least it’s an oppor­tu­ni­ty to show­case one of my favourite graphs.

(284) I occasionally draw graphs

(The head­er image is actu­al­ly about 40 images, stacked using the same method I use for my star trails.)

So close

fountain pen on notepad

I received this in the ol’ email inbox this afternoon.

Thank you very much for your sto­ry, and for let­ting us hang on to it for as long as we did. The piece has received more than one read, as our first read­er enjoyed it a great deal. Due to our cur­rent (the­mat­ic) pub­li­ca­tion needs, how­ev­er, we are unable to place this story.

[…]

Although we can’t use your work at this time, we thank you for think­ing of us and encour­age you to sub­mit again in the future.

The fun­ny thing is, they did­n’t tell me which sto­ry they were reject­ing, and I could­n’t remem­ber what I’d sub­mit­ted to their mar­ket. (I also could­n’t find my ini­tial sub­mis­sion in my out­box, but that was less sur­pris­ing; a lot of mar­kets these days are using Sub­mit­table or Mok­sha or some oth­er online sub­mis­sion gateway.)

Thank heav­ens for The Sub­mis­sions Grinder. I did a quick search on the mar­ket name, and found that, yes, I had sub­mit­ted a piece to them, wa-a-a-ay back in June 2020. Their sub­mis­sions page said that they don’t gen­er­al­ly send out rejec­tions, so if you did­n’t hear in about three months, assume you were not one of the lucky ones. I had assumed that, since Sep­tem­ber came and went with no word, that I was not one of the lucky ones.

Turns out I was right, but it seems I came clos­er than I thought.

Oh well. Once more unto the breach and all that. At least they liked the sto­ry; with form rejec­tions it can be very hard to tell.

PS: If you’re a writer and you’re not using The Sub­mis­sions Grinder, I strong­ly rec­om­mend you at least look into it.

The Great Conjunction

Jupiter and Saturn at conjunction

Sat­urn met up with Jupiter tonight, in case you had­n’t heard about it on the news.

It was cloudy here, but only part­ly cloudy, so I decid­ed I’d take a quick run out of town with my cam­era equip­ment, to see if I could get any photos.

I stepped out­side and dis­cov­ered I did­n’t need to go anywhere—it was vis­i­ble from my dri­ve­way. So I set up there, and snapped some pho­tos of Jupiter + Sat­urn in between the clouds.

Jupiter and Saturn at conjunction
Jupiter and Sat­urn at conjunction

In the box­es, top-left to bot­tom-right, are Cal­lis­to, Io, and Europa. Ganymede is too close to Jupiter for my lens to sep­a­rate it.

The half-moon looked love­ly, too, so I got some of the sun­shine reflect­ed off it, too.

All the pho­tos were tak­en with my 55250mm lens, at 250mm, f/5.6, vary­ing times and ISOs.

Hollow Bean 2020

Blue Moon through the maples

On this windy Hal­loween evening in this pan­dem­ic year, I hand­ed out can­dy using tongs and wear­ing a mask. Our Halloweeners:

  • a lit­tle wee lion
  • a brown bear
  • an angel
  • what appeared to be an Ewok in a parka
  • a gang­ster
  • a goth
  • a Stormtroop­er
  • a croc­o­dile
  • a vam­pire
  • a nurse
  • a lit­tle wee dinosaur who told me “Hab­by Ween!” over and over
  • a zom­bie
  • and a princess in pyjamas

…for a total of 13.

Weird­ly, that’s four more than we had last year. I don’t know what that might mean.

Hap­py Hol­low Bean. B. good.