I have been taking photographs of the blooms everyday. I currently have "510 items" in the Magnolia Tree 2015 folder, many of which I haven't even opened yet. For just the active looking at beauty within the multifold leaves is my meditation and it does me good. Well, that and I am never disappointed, no matter the weather or time of day. Beauty is most certainly found and ample for the taking. Not to mention that time is of the essence as the weather forecast has warned that the Mistral winds will rise today to scatter the blooms into a forgotten pink snow. I can hear it rising outside my window and know that like the seasons, soon I will have to wait for another year to see this particular example of exceptionnelle.
Yesterday, the sun was glorious and created rosy shadows on the leaves. I hoisted Remi's telephoto lens (it is heavy) and pushed it roaming through the tree searching for something to take shape. I have to scrunch my left eye shut to grasp for focus in the viewfinder and when I pull away, it is watery from the effort. So I wasn't entirely sure of the fluttering that I had sensed in the fuzzy zone. But yet with a blink and a further twist of the lens I could see a baby bird taking a bath in the gouttière or water-pipe on our neighbor's roof across the way.
I know this little guy. He is a mésange or chickadee and of all of the others in his flock, he seems to prefer our garden, especially the magnolia tree. Perhaps he feels safe there, hidden without hiding. Or maybe he is just still too young to fly farther.
He took such delight in his bath. In he would plunge and spray the water over his back with outstretched wings. Then he would jump back up to the rim, tap the each side of his beak against the metal with a sniff, give a hearty shake, fluff out his feathers and repeat. In, bathe, tap, shake, fluff.
He seemed vachement content...or quite "chuffed" as my English and Australian friends would say. Such a simple act but an important understanding for this baby bird. How we learn through doing and how we learn through what we feel. My delight was total in watching him. My heart was brimming. Yours would have been too, I am sure of it. It is why I am sharing this other example of little bursting into big. Although, the more that I write about that, the clearer it is to me that they are two sides of the same coin.
Mais hélas, the birds are not alone up on the rooftops of this village. Les chats - of which there are far, far too many in so small an area - are quite confident that they rule above as much as below and slink along the tiles with the confidence of John Robie. I even know one who likes to sit and watch the sunset. That is all well and good but I photographed this fine fellow mere seconds after following my twittering friend. You may be extremely handsome, Mr. Bowie Eyes but stay away from my peeps, I mean it!
Similar to that expansive rocket burst of the magnolia and zooming from little into big that crowds the magnolia's branches is that hypnotic waltz of back and forth...in time. By happenstance or maybe as the random not random gift of the baby bird, I stumbled upon this song, "Your Silent Face" by New Order in my itunes list. It once meant so much to me and I find that it still does. Just the same, only I am different. I think.
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose...
I have been listening to the song on repeat. Just as in dreams, my recent dreams, the past and the present (and maybe the future?) are looping the loop until they come together full circle in a picture as experiential as if it is trying to teach me something. In, bathe, shake, repeat. Or at least that is how it is these days.
I nod at you, to the bird and the blooms and at all that is Hope-filled like Spring.
More of Paris soon...