I watch the ground a great deal when I walk, and I walk almost every day. Although sometimes I’m forced to wait for a delivery, and when it comes, it’s too late, too cold, too dark to walk. But if I walk out and get delayed, then I walk back no matter what because there’s no other way home. On rare occasions I reconisider and change back into t-shirt and pajama bottoms and pretend I had a nice, long and relaxing walk. Watching the ground so I don't trip has provided an infinite number of sights, not all of them especially interesting. Mediocrity
for example. But there were others. New Year
brought destruction, but also insight. Future Behemoths
, Clutching and Reaching
, and Nooks and Crannies
all found something interesting in forlorn sections of the ground. Plants Are Plants
found something nice to say about an aging water meter. Moss
looked at the ground and found hope. Wonder
was the first accidental picture of the ground. At least I think it was. It concluded: “Sometimes it’s the things we didn’t plan and can’t quite explain that stop us in our tracks and make us wonder.” STOP
gave credit to the setting sun for making the ground more noticeable. And More Wonder
continued accidental photography. Where Does Anything Grow?
, Where Do Poppies Grow?
and The Fourth of July
all looked squarely at the ground. Leaves on Pavement
followed the pattern of Absolute Favorite
and made way yesterday for a delightful Pavement and Shadow
. But there must have been others. Today's photo was not an accident, though it looks a great deal like other accidents. I saw the twig and a corner of the road in the upper right and seemed to recall a number of abstract or semiabstract pictures of the ground. Making a big deal out of it goes against its nature, but at least it calls attention to something infinitely repeated, though mostly invisible. Many of these have been pictures without soundtracks, not that sound has ever been mentioned, to be seen in silence. At least that's how I see them. To be seen without these words, in fact, which is how pictures should be seen. Silently. Leaving the soundtracks for other things, or leaving them altogether. Pictures are to be seen, and seeing is shapes, and texture, and color, but not sound. Talking comes later. I see you gesticulating, but I can't seem to hear you. What are you… saying?