It’s definitely a duck-like bird flying west. Wearing a cape of air, body and wings appear as one, and it seems as though he is tired of flapping.
People see images in things all the time. In oil slicks, cloud patterns, rock faces, used tea leaves, even on aging pieces of cloth. I search the crème at the top of my café allongé, for signs of flight.
(This allongé image was photographed on May 23rd, 2007)
No sign of flight in the crème of my allongé this morning. Today’s young bird continues to feed on dark foam. Its soft beak bends, hasn’t yet hardened to the world beyond its smooth glazed shell. It waits, without knowledge of waiting. It sits, with only a vague sense of its own wings. Unaware of the inevitable crack that lies ahead.
(This allongé image was photographed on June 3rd, 2007)
An allongé bird reading, while on route home through the Rockies: Wings heavy. Body tired. Being led by what is already underway.
(This allongé image was photographed on August 13th, 2007)
Photographed my allongé bird this morning, but sipped before I did a decent reading. First impression is all that I managed. Many limbs. Going in different directions – this way and that, or trying to. Almost stalled, stilled.
Does this have to do, literally, with place? Here. There. Vancouver – D.C. – or who knows where. Place, no longer simply a land location. But then, it never was.
(This image was photographed on September 5th, 2007)