A Metaphorical Self-Portrait

At first I was going to title this post "Half In, Half Out Of Shadow" -- but that isn't true.  Whether voluntarily or not, clearly I'm all shadow.

The Sun Emerging

As the cloud reluctantly gives up its pearly treasure...

A Mildly Amusing Coincidence

Just now, while sitting at my desk checking out this and that online, I heard a car horn sound down in the parking lot.  It was just a single brief note, but for whatever reason, to my ears it sounded exactly like the A-flat note that begins the "Pink Soldiers" theme from the popular thriller "Squid Game".

And as I was mulling this over, it was quickly followed by another staccato honk, one and a half intervals lower and the correct second note to establish the haunting opening of the theme music.

[Photo and sheet music nicked off the Net]

Here's a quick listen, courtesy of YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7uTnxYFDSw

Cicada x 2

Maybe my half-in-jest effort to make friends with the noisy little buggers (ha, see what I did there?) is actually succeeding -- this individual was very "tame" and stayed on my hand for a long time.  If I'd had both hands free I would have given it a more proper stroking, just like with a cat or dog.

After watching the short clip I brought out my fossil cicada in amber for comparison, and to the casual eye it doesn't look like there has been much obvious change in cicada-kind since however many millennia or eons have passed since this unfortunate specimen became trapped in rosin.  I guess that, like sharks, cicadas became so good at what they do that there was little need to change.

Golden Armour

Dr. John Dee was a scholar and astrologer in the court of Queen Elizabeth I (for whom he may sometimes have functioned as a spy -- allegedly with the code name of 007!).  He was also an occultist with a keen interest in invoking angels and other spiritual beings in his quest for mystical knowledge, and because of this he lived under a permanent cloud of suspicion.

Dr. Dee is considered to be the progenitor of a system of magic known as 'Enochian magic', which was communicated to him by angels through the mediumship of his assistant Edward Kelley (who may actually have been a con man -- but if a con man he was, he must have been a very talented one to have come up with the whole complex house of cards and to have it pass muster with Dr. Dee, who certainly was no fool;  also, it should be kept in mind that the history of spiritualism and mediumship is replete with personalities who apparently embodied various mixtures of fraudulence and seemingly genuine ability).  I've always pictured these channeling sessions as taking place in a series of foggy mystical visions, with a mysterious hooded entity clad in a resplendent, golden-glowing robe silently pointing to various words and symbols.

Of all that I was reminded by the sight of this shiny golden dragonfly.

Cicadas

(Click on image to expand)

The Secret Language Of The Earth (Pt. 17)

Always, Always.

Black

Black

Gray

Gray

Black

Black

White

White

White

White

Red.

Stand out or die.  Doesn't matter if there's a monsoon rainstorm going on.

 

Dryad

I  was struck with wonderment at the sight of this tree, surveying me with its unblinking, intense gaze as if to stare me down.

But it was only after I'd taken the initial shots and walked around it that I realized that this was no ordinary tree -- it was the habitation of a dryad!

In olden days it might well have been -- very likely would have been -- an object of worship, as a guardian spirit of a village perhaps, or maybe a forest god.  Tiger hunters and wild ginseng harvesters would have made small offerings on a makeshift altar, barren wives would have prayed for its blessing.  But today the busy pedestrians passing by with hurried steps pay it nary a glance.  No wonder it's starved for a feeding, waiting with its mouth open.  As I, too, walked away I was left in a wistful mood.

Myths need sustenance, just like mortal humans.

Related post:  "Mandrake Root"

Reflected Glory

Taken just after the Sun had set behind the mountains.

Quadruple Cascade

At InWangSan, Seoul.

A Cicada

The early arrivals have been making their presence known with their incessant noisemaking for some time now.  And this morning (late, late morning^) I got up, put on coffee, went to the balcony to raise the blinds, and saw one of them on the bug screen.  I read somewhere that mosquitos don't, or can't, go higher than seven meters or so above the ground (that is, unless they hitch a ride on an elevator to my bedroom);  that's not even the third floor of many buildings.  I'm on the eleventh floor -- that's roughly thirty meters, by a generous estimate.  I guess being so much bigger than mosquitos, cicadas are also much more powerful flyers.  Like a battleship vs. a smuggler's runabout.

Half A Half Moon

 

Or "a quarter slice"?

Related post:  "Half Moon"

Honeybee Laden With Pollen

Finds a colleague already inside the flower, collecting nectar.

And as a bonus shot, a bumblebee's butt.

Rain God Dancing

Over a wet street.

The Ghost Of A Staircase

As opposed to "A ghost on the staircase"...

Cloudy Day

Some more images from JinGwanSa, taken by this card-carrying (not really) member of the Cloud Appreciation Society.

Ambiguous Beetle

Taken at JinGwanSa temple.  In Buddhist iconography the lotus occupies a significant place as a symbol of purity, as it grows out of the murky dark waters of a pond or lake and opens clean and unsullied.  But when a lotus blossom is claimed by a big black beetle as its own territory, what does it mean?  Is it a reminder that, after all, all things in samsara are imperfect, and one should not be overly attached to anything -- not even lotuses?  Or does it serve to elevate the pristine beauty of the flower even more by contrasting it with the unexpected presence of a lowly bug?

Or perhaps it's an admonition that enlightenment is available to all living beings regardless of their station in life;  noble or humble, it does not matter in the end, and that to react with shock or repellence is to prove the inadequacy of one's own faith.

[And I freely admit to my own inadequacy in this department.  Cockroaches, for example.  Especially the really big giant ones in warm climates.  I remember the shock and repellence I experienced when one morning soon after I moved into my old live-in studio in south central L.A., when I woke up and discovered a huge dead roach at the foot of my bed.  Yeah, what can you do... what you feel is what you feel.]

Errant Concrete Mixer

Related posts:  Errant Sparrow, Errant Bunny, Errant Teddy