The Art of Being Unprepared

We are approaching the sweaty, sticky days of summer. The cooling breezes of winter left with the snowbirds weeks ago. It's still a nasty hot morning, though the ant-under-a-magnifying-glass sensation doesn’t start until the sun clears the tree line. It's time for a quick sketching walk in the woods by the lake.

 

My sketch bag is an old cloth emergency first aid kit acquired from a drug store. It’s red with a large white cross on the front, double zippered with a handle, and my added belt clip.

 

It contains two sketchbooks. The larger, a gift, performs poorly with watercolors but is passable for ink, pencil, and charcoal. The other, smaller version is made for both. There’s also a watercolor field kit and old film container filled with extra water, an assortment of pencils, brushes, cut-up credit cards, paper towels… you know the rest.

 

People tend to make way for me when met on a trail. Seeing an old man with a red emergency kit with a big white cross on it, they tend to step aside, not wanting, I surmise, to be the one to apply first aid when the geezer stumbles and can’t get up. They are right – sketching is essential to my well-being, not to mention what’s left of my older right brain.

 

With my bag on my hip, I found a little wooden bridge among the pines and palms, arching over a creek leading to a small lake. I sat on a nearby warped wood bench, the one with short, uneven legs buried in the sand. I opened my kit to find only one sketchbook and one indelible ink pen. No sanity saving erasable pencil. Forgetting to check my bag ruined the entire known universe!

 

But it didn’t.

 

Instead, it freed me to make mistakes. After all, I’d already made the creation of good art unlikely. With no expectations, I had a great time.

 

 Isn’t that what it’s all about?

The Paint Wasters Society of Dog Moon Bay 

White Rose Heart Paperweight
by MACmedia

A Sailing Hideaway Zazzle Store

Of Strawberries and Butterflies

 

 From the Traveling Hideaways- Tales of Our Trails Blog

                                                              Black Plastic Netting

Our elevated strawberry patch has become a haven for strawberry enthusiasts of both wing and paw varieties. To deter unwanted visitors we draped half-inch soft black plastic webbing, supported by bamboo stalks with their small branches still attached to admit only honey bees for pollination.

 

We Didn't Expect the Butterflies

 

During a recent stroll by the patch, I observed six or eight butterflies frenetically fluttering around one of the nets attempting to rescue a trapped comrade. These native Florida butterflies have a two-inch wingspan with tan wings and colorful decoration. I do not recall their name, and my cameras were inside enjoying the air conditioning.

 

Without hesitation, I joined the rescue mission.

 

At first the butterflies wouldn't let me help, constantly getting in the way of my effort to untangle the flimsy net without injuring the victim. Encircled by the butterfly brigade, I sensed their determination, (is that possible?). Some briefly rested their heads on the trapped butterfly’s, perhaps offering silent comfort.

 

As the hot sun weakened the captive, hope dwindled. They wouldn't give up, those butterfly friends, so neither would I. My clumsy fingers fumbled over the net, frantic to find a solution. In a moment of frustration, I reached for my knife, only to drop it. Stooping to retrieve it, I inadvertently freed the entangled butterfly. A swarm of butterflies surrounded their freed companion, and as strength returned, they departed in a flurry of wings.

 

But they returned.

 

As I tore down the remaining nets, the butterflies reappeared, swirling around me for some time in a vibrant display of color and energy before departing once more.

Interpret this as you will, but there will be no more netting in our garden and I have a new appreciation of butterflies.  And, dare I say it? Some butterfly friends!

Lighthouse Spiral Staircase Poster
by SailingHideAway