![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGiRjxOEuYd28XF7PZiDjLJSZJZKj2Vgh8SOObJ_gRQsqvQWnvF2i8DC1XcR2lbeGAch079z6BXbNNmUOxW-6d8Ux7Zw1sjY8dUA-w_0DptgKYFohm9VDRy27g8t8qaV3CuPi5/s400/ticklish.jpg)
And, of course, there are happy accidents: the photographic subject claims every axis of dimension and then some, and one must settle for a particularly felicitous plane.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhxqBW3_n4r6DnMDzxL3_z6fH9HfR9N39tm5xNLM97W2aIcpev0oGDgHqCGY3DaKXvkb2h98CdzVZwJfmZ-PiaX9pgXBtQPlW3tJFPnqFLNOcukf25qYpGDJelimfSWMK09Z2/s400/thisangel.jpg)
And sometimes a backlight, often the source of exposure conundrums, will sweetly beckon, forgiving for once, but don't get cocky.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDb3ix1H0-Ic4dGckK0YGu1l0NMNUp7RxOufNOH69FeToRAnB-eJSdIGxpbeMvNwbe0qLEd8qTirENnLxy417uQYli_wM8OeBU8cbEm1FpMIU-IwfT96ChzNj1L2Zd1t2k61S/s400/tete3.jpg)
Sometimes, through the viewfinder, one is transported: to vistas that could be under green water
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgajDarPJrjNcriU_8BVveBr-4N6XOgtuxL6jSJ65Pmnozga_-WFv2VUHcGEa9qnXqQIF402hbyz1gSuhf-V-D_twwalDqa8KsAwM_NbGkFz95gfJSDjER1gop8n5FPBs_F9tI6/s400/shade2.jpg)
to intergalactic space
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to unworldly chambers of stillness and shadow.
Through the macro lens, all is dissolution.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmAj5CLWHKGE5JSPECXn1IV9TmZKlkZH71nvoPfzaixwI5w51vdmdFPZxvj6FFhLE5yFrUsp4i9XZLlF2yyWw5LZHd7K3QVwvJld6wWzN9vngQ7yNqYtI9tNXJf7pWSS2v4Ii/s400/shade.jpg)
One moment bleeds into the next, everything flows, atoms play cache-cache, themselves bundles of flowish weirdness.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXALP24qfMMhciqTjOCjOEZuIRpJqPe03KhuIdNrDkBOnzjeYYr_CykUahyWljaF1tDQonZY8tf_Womb1g48a3uKLMGm-BjUAXw9Q8YqM0JSMcTshQu6ovODSntPTnheHpb_cp/s400/ostinato.jpg)
There are brief moments when solipsism relinquishes its sway and one feels buoyed by -- by what ? -- and not just buoyed by, but infused with -- with what ? --
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At that moment, the anguished epistemological question crumbles into dust and blows away, and nothing remains, not even poudraillance, and yet, still, there is -- what ?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ZjHT5_j6VGHDsgZNKa22EaQp717cZkDM_ihsIMbaD2e6t0R9CBUuKi7hgk0RY1VeSpbSIQdKE4Lp2OAc3mkhHh_hFAUt_UDJQAGunhYDOnSraGBGYgGR7QQDTTTG3hpLeD22/s400/fronder.jpg)
Later, by lamplight, comes the naming.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP9SzMA7hGJJm8JL-ZVE4idk-AZwm-tML-xOCq4Be_2Kv4ZHQ3k34N9YvzyQaxriegyv-bBhOBJnDCw-tdOvFAtfQVop5cgTGWX2MvYe3COJBdacp4qGQMiOxHFA5EUYQZkxhd/s400/fringed.jpg)
Queen Anne's lace. Chicory. Water Hemlock. Nightshade. Bittersweet.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufNnLQ-xLkRc3MdPPqWYm-235SPN2ZtsITWKO7XuB-0C4pQJC0J9TxtA0RV8O8hV8mrcNWdEQ85amzTUXBaCFVVBUqCpcpBteQpbVNjC_5446PhDTHTTY9A3iT9vumPdv_qTQ/s400/amerdoux.jpg)
And, undoubtedly (or, maybe, doubtedly) there are weightier words that could be uttered.
Let's leave those unsaid, eh ?
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kAQlUqtU9QCn8v7pRiPxmXSHijxvjmV4fDQ4mRayEw_yQhQfDvCgP_g_d7C13VE2LkzrGCKII-Vd4zrPi-Qk4ank4Bs75eKj3XPqlEVAyzGwYiWBUBObQOY9kMqZkWOKIm0N/s400/blulight.jpg)
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