On Wye Mountain (2000)
RL is being stubbornly intrusive and cutting into blogging and general recreational fun. But here's a little something for you to see.
I live about five miles from Wye Mountain. Each spring, the mountain explodes into a rolling sea of daffodils. I remember, years ago, being there with my daughter and sitting in the midst of the swaying flowers and sweet fragrance.
Some people say, in the Fox News parlance, that fractals are inherently abstract and non-representational -- therefore, they cannot illustrate nature. But why not? Fractal forms are abundant in nature: trees, frost, broccoli , nervous systems, river currents. With some post-process massaging, this image came to remind me of that spring morning long ago surrounded by flowers on Wye Mountain.
To me, it felt natural to see that fractal memory suddenly appear on my computer. And now it's appearing on yours.
2 comments:
Thousands of whispering women nodding secrets each other. That's Wye Mountain.
I think it's a right of passage to scramble around, sweater hanging by one arm, stray baby-hairs sneaking out of ponytails, counting yourself as one more bobbing flower. Little girls have a way of touching daffodils like they touch new kittens. It's how we learn what pretty means and how it feels to be enchanting.
At least it was for me. And for my daughter.
Thanks. I needed that just now.
-M
Thanks for writing.
I know it's been a sad and difficult week.
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