Tuesday, July 25, 2006

No eating in bed

No eating in bed, Amherst, NH, July 2006, Pentax Optio 555, Exposure 1/160 sec @ f3.0, ISO 64, no flash, super macro © Steven Crisp

Since we are on a sex theme, I thought I'd get this one out of the way as well. These are Japanese beetles, making mince meat out of our cherry tree, and just having a grand old time. No shame. Group sex. And boy do they eat. All of the succulent parts of the leaves, such that only the veins remain.

Now if only the Purple Martins that have taken up residence in our yard had a taste for Japanese beetles, that would be very satisfying indeed. And maybe they could leave our dragonflies alone?

3 comments:

Honeybee said...

It has been awhile since I have visited your blog (due to that pesky thing called work). I have missed it and it is wonderful to come back and see so many wonderful posts and pictures. Having climbed Mt. Fuji years ago, your post made me yearn to do it again. Especially since I did not do the full climb but was driven up part way. I guess I would be called crazy too but I think I may have to plan for it. Thanks for sharing!

Grasshopper said...

Well Honeybee pointed out that I need to visit here and I am sure glad that I did this morning. I'd like to point out that what was once an intellectual, highly original, thought provoking commentary on spirituality, has decended inot the realm of cheap, porn. Just kidding. ;-) Your photos are amazing Steve. Keep taking them. They change how I see reality. Thanks for your work (and it should really be youer work).

Grasshopper

Steven Crisp said...

You are both too kind. Thanks for the visit, and the comments.

Grasshopper, you say this should be my work, and we've talked about this before. You might be interested to note this dialog I had with another blog visitor come spiritual compantion:

"What I find so interesting about myself these days, is that I’d rather be reflecting, contemplating, reading, photographing, or writing, than just about anything else. It’s as if I’ve been trapped in an underground chamber and for the past 10 years I’ve been scratching at the walls (before that, I had no appreciation of the tomb). Now finally, I see a sliver of daylight. And I want nothing more than to keep using my pickax and bare hands if need be to clear away the rubble and let myself out into the sunlight. I can see that light streaming in through the opening, like you may recall from that church photo, and finally the outline of the cavern is becoming clear. If I get close to the light, I have to squint my eyes because it is blindingly bright. But I know there is freedom in the sunlight. As I unearth more of the opening, more light streams in and I can see more clearly — really more so each day. And I cannot wait to step outside, breath the fresh air, bathe in the sunlight, and see just how small my buried room had been, and how many more chambers are out there."

It's all good. I suspect the struggle of wanting to do this against the backdrop what Honeybee calls "that pesky thinkg called work" is part of the motivation itself. The more I reflect upon life, I see the constant struggle. It is an inherent part of life itself. So this is just one more (trivial) facet. And from there, "sometimes I sits and thinks, and sometimes I just sits".