Art in the mist

The anemones are beginning to wake up

What a mist there is this morning as I go out to get the paper! It has crept up against the house – even the doormat is damp. The air, thick with humidity, makes it a little hard to breathe. This is Halloween/autumn weather: ‘season of mists and mellow fruitfulness’.

Spiders have spread their webs from one support to another. I imagine them flying, Tarzan-like, from clothes line to bird feeder to pear tree. And their webs are astounding – but hard to photograph. I learn a few things about my camera as I try to capture the awesomeness, such as how to tweak aperture, exposure, and lighting. I experiment with the ‘stage light’ option which, as you might expect, has a dramatic result, but the spiders’ webs disappear. I go back to the default settings.

This web is going on for a metre across
You may be able to see three webs here

There’s no sign of the spiders. Perhaps they are resting after the long hours of painstaking artistry, waiting in crevices somewhere until something is caught in their nets.

Garden centre

That’s a Salad Bar in the background

It wasn’t on my list to go to the garden centre but, somehow, there I was. I particularly liked this display. I bought some flower and vegetable plants.

Here’s Felix inspecting the plants.

I had to go to the hardware store for an obelisk which is high enough. It was 20% off because the tip is bent, and was a wee challenge to fit into the car.

Dinner was based on home grown garden produce. The ironing might get done tomorrow.

Sea Signals

This impressive street art has appeared in the last few weeks on my walking route home along Colombo Street. It is worth pausing to look at it closely to pick up the ‘sea signals’ which concern the artist. Unlike others in the Flare Ōtautahi Street Art Festival, it is like a diagram or a page out of a children’s text book in its representation of a sea theme. It seems to rise out of the wall with shadows and angles and images breaking free of the frame.

I felt uneasy looking at the mural. Partly obscured by the sign on the fence in this photo, a green plastic bag floats to the bottom of the ocean and a piece of litter floats on the surface. The sea life seems to flee from the invading boat which may – or may not – abide by the rules for the size of its catch. It could be about to dredge the depths of the ocean as the depth scale and zones suggest. Even though the vessel looks harmless enough with its clean bright lines, it is sneaking into the scene with a shadow beneath it. It might be a boat for scientific research or fishing: marlin is a prized trophy catch as this one knows (thanks, Ernest Hemingway). Whatever the case, the boat represents human intrusion and all that implies.

The worst thing…

When Felix catches a rat and releases it in the house, or worse still, catches a bird, I think that is the worst thing about owning a cat. Those events are short-lived however (as are the rats and often, sadly, the birds) whereas when your cat goes missing the worry increases throughout the day as he fails to appear.

The last time he went missing was over a year ago. The vet advised feeding him some wet food to encourage him to stay close to home, which I have done. We last saw Felix at 1.30am this morning. He was clawing at the carpet, wanting to play. I coaxed him into the sitting room and closed the door. He had access to his food and cat door from there. But he didn’t turn up for breakfast, or settle down on Mum’s bed for the day and he hasn’t come home for his dinner – he’s usually regular as clockwork for that.

And so we worry, and speak to neighbours – but I’m putting off walking the block to check the gutters to see if he’s been hit by a car.

Where are you, Felix?

Garden wildlife

What I thought was a leaf floating on the water in a bucket turned out to be a cricket. It was flat and limp and I thought it had drowned. But it went from 2D to 3D after I rescued it. Two hours or so later it had gone – had it hopped away or had a blackbird got it?

Meanwhile, Felix was riveted by the sight of a flock of waxeyes which descended on the Japanese Anemones and roses outside the window. Next minute, he was out getting amongst it – but the birds were long gone by then.

Fishing

This guy looked to have his life sorted on the beach this morning. My brother-in-law pointed out that he probably used a drone to take the lines out beyond the surf. Sure enough, when I zoomed in I could see a drone beside him.

I grew up in a culture of fly fishing in which other forms of fishing were ‘chuck and chance’. This form of surf casting is next level: ‘drop and wait’?

Suddenly it’s autumn

When I’m considering wearing socks I know summer is over – yet in my last post it seemed it would never end. Now the heat pump is on. The temperature has plummeted in the last couple of days, the sun doesn’t come up until closer to 7am than 6am, and when it’s shining (which it isn’t right now) it creeps further across the windowsills on the north side of the house. On a couple of days I haven’t taken the cover off the egg chair, while last week I had to wait for the sun to go off it before it was cool enough to sit in. Sigh!

The lawn looked as if it was going to turn yellow at one point, but the episodes of rain we’ve had have kept it green and the garden growing well. The ‘salad bar’ is still ready for action so I hope there’ll be a few days when summer does a reprise. Right now it’s soup or scrambled eggs with toast on the menu.

Winter-ready – while the grapes above the wood pile are ripening

I imagine the people attending the music event, Electric Avenue, in the park today and tomorrow would rather die of hypothermia than be seen wearing a jersey but might be able to keep warm by leaping about and mushing together in the mosh pit.

Post Script: Wouldn’t you know it? The sun has come out. Cicadas are chirping. I’m going out to sit in the egg chair.