Mundane Monday: Corn Stubble

Walk out our door and in three out of four directions you’ll find a field of corn stubble before you find a road. Take the fourth and you’ll need to walk down the driveway and cross the road before you hit the stubble.

This is a good thing, for I am a field watcher.

This isn’t my favorite time of year to watch the fields. It’s not like spring when you can watch to see the mist of green appear when the seedlings first come up. Nor is it like early summer when it feels like you can see the plants grow right before your eyes. The remains of the stalks have none of the sea rippling beauty of the tall plants in a late summer wind. Even late fall when a strong wind can send a twisting flurry of corn leaves through the air is more exciting than the fields at rest for winter.

But I still watch them.

The turkeys have flocked up for the winter. A group of twenty or more is hard to miss in a field of stubble, if you are looking. The deer stand out in silhouette on the field edges. And I am always looking, hoping to see them before they bound into the road.

Some afternoons (crazy, warm, rainy, December afternoons) when a little sun peeks through the dark, grey and blue storm clouds and sets the stalks to glowing, I watch them just because they are beautiful.

corn field A field of corn stubble may be my most mundane-ish thing so far. Head over to PhoTrablogger and see who else is finding beauty in the mundane this week!

Mundane Monday: Raspberry Canes

After months of deliberating, John’s new sunglasses arrived. Not just any sunglasses. EnChroma sunglasses. Sunglasses that bring color to the color blind.

John is not profoundly color blind, but he has a hard time finding a red ball in a field of green, if he can even tell you it’s red after he’s found it. And while I don’t want to harp on the amount of times he’s argued with me over what color a grey/green/dark blue/black item of clothing is, let’s just say it’s come up over the years. This spring a friend sent a video John’s way, thinking he might be interested…

…and last week they arrived in the mail.

It was exciting but I was a little bit nervous. What if they didn’t work? They don’t work for everyone and after all the deliberation and long wait it would be a huge disappointment. He opened the box and read the directions “Strong daylight is ideal. Go outside!”

I looked outside with my natural color vision. It’s December, it’s Wisconsin, it was overcast. It was not what I would call a colorful day. But you work with what you have.

We stepped out the front door, John put them on and looked around.

The grass was greener (for November in Wisconsin), the leftover pumpkins from Halloween were brighter (for old mushy pumpkins), John was interested in the color my hat had turned but seemed less than overwhelmed.

Fifteen minutes the directions recommended, so we set out on a little walk around the property.

At the scrubby edge of the orchard he stopped when he saw the wild black raspberry canes.wild black raspberry canes

He stopped because, as John now knows, the tangle of brush he never gave a second glance to is laced with arcs of purple and red.

We admired the beauty of raspberry canes for a long time.

When we moved on, John was seeing new color everywhere, the green moss on the trees, the red combs on the chickens… he started bouncing on his toes and finally exclaimed:

“It’s like eating ham sandwiches your whole life and then having a panini!”

Then both of us finished the walk looking at the color around us with new eyes.

Of course seeing the world in color is anything but mundane but that’s not going to stop me from linking up with Mundane Monday again! 

Mundane Monday: Worn Quilt

The quilt has lost it’s sharp lines and crisp colors but old quilts have their own soft beauty.quilt

The faded colors a testament to the love the quilt has weathered.

The hole in the corner a memory of a long gone puppy.

The frayed fabric a sign that the quilt is good for beds, picnics and blanket forts.

While the edges, still bright, bring a memory of when it was crisp lined and fresh, a graduation gift made by my mother-in-law before she was my mother-in-law.

While I still have a hard time applying the label “mundane” to my things I am enjoying the Mundane Monday photo challenge. Click through the link to see more amazingly un-mundane photos!

 

 

Mundane Monday: Marble

I am a pack rat of tiny things.

A plastic ring from a friend’s wedding, a tiny ceramic frog, dice, every bead that ever fell from a necklace, old buttons, a tiny alien… and a blue marble.

My marble is just one of many I had as a kid. It was not the biggest, nor the smallest. It wasn’t the one with the iridescent swirls or the one that looked like a globe. My marble is bright, light blue and shot through with tiny bubbles. If you hold my marble up to the light it looks as though the makers trapped a part of the sky, or perhaps a tropical sea, within it. Long ago, in high school, I put my marble in a yellow tin covered with sheep. I nestled it in a sea of paper clips, safe and hidden. As the yellow tin, the paper clips and my marble traveled with me over the years it was been joined by a pack of safety pins, a soda tab, part of a sea monster, a teeny dragonfly, a goggle clip and other tiny treasures.

am a tiny pack rat.

Today I wanted to photograph my marble. My bright, blue, bubbly marble.

My marble was gone.

My children are not only tiny pack rats themselves, they are thieves.

A search of drawers, toy boxes and forgotten corners turned up six other marbles.

green marble

None of them were my marble.

 

My marble was going to be my contribution to this weeks Mundane Monday Challenge, but the green one will have to do.

 

Mundane Monday: Firewood

The past few weeks I’ve noticed that greydaysandcoffee has been participating in Mundane Monday. And I thought to myself, “Self, you should do that too!”

And then I forgot.

Repeatedly.

But today- today I remembered! Camera in hand I went to turn something “mundane” into a beautiful photograph.

Turns out, I’m bad at mundane.

I keep wanting to give things a second chance.  I don’t want them to be, mundane

“Hmm how about this chair?” I asked myself. “This chair isn’t mundane! I got it out of my family’s garage and painted it brown and then I painted it red and I have to keep gluing it back together when it falls apart! This chair has history!”

The door knob? Anything but mundane. Look at it! It’s full of swirls and lines and hey! That could be an “ornate” photo challenge! But not mundane.

The wood stove? Couldn’t possibly. Not only did we move it from the old house, how many people have a wood stove? Besides it’s full of fire! Fire is not mundane.

The silverware? The table? The floor? My boot? Too many stories, too much history, possibly too much caffeine.

Yes, today I discovered that “mundane” is not my word.

I did make firewood all day though and firewood is pretty mundane. I mean, if you don’t think about what kind of tree it is and why it was cut it down. Also you need to try to forget how you hauled it to the wood pile and ignore the the different noises the splitting maul makes as you split it, and then of course when you stack it there is a bit of an art to get those stacks to stay up and hold tight and the shape of the pieces matters…

*sigh*

I love my firewood.

In the end, I took a picture of a piece of firewood. It’s just firewood. It’ll be burned in our wood-stove to heat the house. The tree it came from had a nest of ants in the middle of it and they smoothed the wood to a velvety appearance as they made their tunnels and did their ant things. Which possibly makes it one of the most un-mundane pieces of firewood I could find to photograph.firewood carved by ants

But like I said, I’m bad at mundane.