Scottish Right of Way

I grabbed the camera just in time - but barely just. The point of this photo is that little squib of yellow-green vest disappearing around the curve just ahead of the blue lorry. That is one of two bicyclists leading the way down a mountain road on the Isle of Skye.

Nobody so much as honked.

The bicycles pulled off to the side of the road a mile or so later on - but I'm not certain it wasn't just to enjoy the view. Their fellow travelers didn't seem to require them to get out of the way. But I could be wrong about that. Read more about Scottish Right of Way

The Rock

The Rock of Gibraltar. The Stone of Scone. St. Peter. The Rock of Ages. The Rosetta Stone. The Lia Fáil (Stone of Destiny) on the Hill of Tara. Rock & Roll.

I like rocks. Rocks are naturally occurring solid aggregates of minerals. The Earth's outer solid layer, the lithosphere, is made of rock. The world, both literal and literary, is full of them. They are the aggregate, the collection of the many into one, on which life itself makes its home. Read more about The Rock


What makes life worth living for a tree? Oxygen production? Really? What goes through your mind every time you exhale? This one's for you, broccoli my love? Show me some gratitude, oh lawn of mine?

I didn't think so.

I think trees are in it for the art. Look at any oak desk, maple cabinet or knotty pine wall, and you will get some idea of what has been happening over the years within the living heart of trees. Yet lovely as are the pieces we construct from a tree's original conception, it can be worth our while to wait for the finished piece. Read more about Stourhead

My Favorite Robin

My favorite robin is an English robin. But I didn't know they existed outside of nursery rhyme books until I went there and saw one. I imagine most of us think of the little robin redbreast that sat on apple boughs in the picture books of childhood as the fanciful figments of poetic imagination. If we think of them at all. Those fat cheery little birds with a puff of ruddy breast feathers. They do not look at all like the "real" robins that are so ubiquitous in our yards and gardens. Read more about My Favorite Robin