Same Rose, Different View

I guess you could say I love my camera. After taking over 100 pictures of the same rose, I ended up with perhaps 5 really good pictures. Those of you who are photographers will understand.

Here's a picture that I particularly liked. Of course, it helps that I love the color pink.

A Rose by Another Name . . .

. . . is still a rose. Or however that saying goes.

Yesterday I took over 100 pictures of a rose. That's one of the shots on the left. It's from a rose plant, one that consists of a single stem and one rose. I planted the rose in my garden years ago, and it has never grown taller than two feet. It has no branches--it's still a two-foot tall stick. And it has never produced more than one one perfect rose each year.

I love the velvet texture of roses, and their scent is divine. A rose is Mother Nature's gift to mankind.

Perseid Meteor Shower

I watched the Perseid meteor shower two nights ago, and it was fabulous. In 45 minutes I saw 17 shooting stars. It's all so wonderful and mysterious. When I see something like that, I am reminded of how much I take for granted. Mother Nature is amazing, the Universe astounding, and shooting stars are like the cherry on top of a banana split.

Have you seen the Perseid meteor shower? Did you think it was as wonderful as I did?

Funeral Duty

My cat, Christopher the Assassin, is a killer. If it moves, he kills it. If it's edible, he eats it. If it's not edible, he eats it anyway. I've never owned a more bloodthirsty cat.

Today, on my porch and sidewalk, there's an interesting array of victims: a rat, a mole, a mouse, a shrew, two birds, a snake, and (sob!) a baby bunny. And what does this macho cat do after he's spent the morning hunting and eating? Comes into the house and demands lap time, with accompanying purrs and kneading. Just as if he were a normal, law-abiding cat without feral tendencies.

But I guess that's okay. For the first time in 34 years, I don't have moles in my yard. Since Christopher began hunting moles, I've been mole-free for years.

Now it's time for me to go out and do funeral duty, which means picking up the various bodies and flinging them into the woods. How about your pets? Do you have any critters that are hunters like Christopher?