Spring is sort of in the air. It’s now light out at 10 p.m. As winter approaches, the world seems to close in, with outside time becoming more limited. I, who am “seasonally” bipolar, turn inward in the winter and outward in the summer. Yesterday as I rode Raudi (it was her ninth birthday), I did the obligatory about face.

A case in point: last night in photography class, I bounced around like a laser beam. I entered the Photoshop lab and immediately began talking at the teacher about depth of field, and I showed him my depth of field app, which I’d installed on my iPad.

Then I showed a student a page from a magazine, one of a fashion model in a wedding dress posing with a horse. (It interested me, that the word bridal connected the two.)

Then I showed my classmates my new tripod, explaining that the other one I owned finally bit the dust. (Pete and I finally conceded that we could not fix it.)

Then I watched another student manipulate her image of water flowing through a culvert.

I was upbeat and chatty, the entire time, almost embarrassingly so. I did not do much work in camera raw or Photoshop—I should have, but just could not sit still. I’ve pretty much decided that this portion of my education will have to wait until I can (again) focus on it. Next winter and fall will be good times for this. Anyhow, I’m relatively pleased with my progress.

Signy update – pooping more, increasingly more broody. I took her for a walk this a.m. and she seemed pleased to get out. She’s a very appreciative horse, which is one of the many reasons why I enjoy her company.

Dirty Laundry

I play photographer--
closing the left good eye, opening it, closing it,
closing the right good eye, opening it, closing it,
blinking slowly, blinking fast
capturing images as they appear:
sheets pegged to a sagging clothesline,
sheets piled on an unmade bed,
clothespins an afterthought.
There’s a story here that I wish to keep secret
but will tell to those who will listen.
This morning, I overslept. The other crawled out of bed,
and in broad daylight did my chores.
He tended to goats, chickens, horses, dogs.
And I peered at a series of snapshots,
my past, present, and future
As ephemeral as the distant evening light.

Next: 126. 4/13/12: Mush and Slush