About Blog Title...

As a child, it was one of my greatest delights to visit my grandparents in the spring when the whip-poor-wills began to call. Grandma and Grandpa lived in a remote valley of the Ozark Mountains where there were trees a plenty, and, seemingly, a whip-poor-will, or two, in each one.
My grandmother insisted that a whip-poor-will's call was not "whip-poor-will," but instead, "chip-butter-white-oak." I would listen really hard trying to hear it exactly as she said it was, but all I could hear was "whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,..." But, I never let on to her.
I remember my grandpa watching and listening, with an amused look on his face, to one of these listening sessions. Shortly after that he began to call me, just for fun, "Chip Butter." It is a name I am proud to wear for I still love to hear that long, lonesome call on a warm summer's eve. And, sometimes, when I listen really, really hard, it seems I can hear quite clearly, "chip-butter-white-oak, chip-butter-white-oak..."


Thursday, November 15, 2012

Abstract Art?

 
 
No, it's ice.  A couple of days ago, when I was out early taking frosty morning pictures, I noticed that there was ice in Nell's water bucket.  The ice was broken up, probably by Nell, and floating on the water.  Just for the heck of it, I zoomed my lens in and took a couple of shots.  Later, when I was looking at the pictures I had taken, I was completely blown away by the beautiful colors and designs I had captured . 
 
Somewhere back in senior science, I remember something about reflecting and refracting light.  There were even some strange formulas to remember, which I don't, but I am thinking those formulas must have something to do with this masterpiece of abstract art. 
 
 
 
 

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