The coots are back and the ducks will have to deal with it.

Video by me.

Sunrise, this morning, we thought there was a folk group with a strumming guitar.

TrumpTV.

Background: "After Years as the Star of Must-See TV, Trump Faces the Sting of Cancellation/A boycott of the White House press pool by the major networks deprives the president of the oxygen of screen time. But he is still finding ways to get on the air" (NYT gift link).

So you get it: He doesn't need the fake-news networks. He's got a YouTube channel. Yeah, so do I....

Sunrise.

Write about whatever you like in the comments. 

Video ducks (by me):

Sunrise, 5:10, with ducklings.

Video by me.

Why did the bird cross the road? For dark and unknowable reasons?

Yesterday, we were talking about Arthur Miller's aphorism: "Glamour is a bird that for dark and largely unknowable reasons decides to light on this branch rather than another."

My reaction: "Birds don't have dark reasons." You might have read that as if I were saying, birds are, in fact, thoroughly virtuous. I should have allowed for darkness, at least, in some birds. What about Poe's "Raven" or the albatross in "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner"? But it was more a matter of choosing to talk only about the possible dark side of birds, because that's all Miller brought up.

If the Glamour bird's motivations are unknowable, how does Miller know they are dark? Maybe Miller thought of that question and threw "largely" into the sentence as a quick fix. I don't know much about the mind of Miller, but I read it to think: I don't know much about the mind of the bird, but I do know this: The one called Glamour has dark reasons.

In the comments tcrosse said, "Why did the chicken cross the road? For some dark reason?"

We thought that was a very funny line and laughed about it before we went out for the sunrise. Driving home in the sun, we saw an odd bird standing in the road, then 2 birds. The light side of birds was demanding attention. Baby sandhill cranes just had to cross the road.

Why? No reasons at all. Never any reason. 

Coot fluffs its pillow at dawn.

This was yesterday, at 5:07 a.m., on Lake Mendota. I'm concentrating on the coot with its improbably pillowy white breast, and Meade's remark — "Everyone's being so quiet and serene" — refers to the geese in the background. They usually make a big honk over our arrival in their territory. 

The morning puddle.

That crane video is by me, emphasizing the puddle. Here's Meade's crane video, stressing the freneticism of the feeding:

The horizontality tells you that this video is mine, not Meade's.

A mellow visual, but this is here for the audio:

More vivid visuals, including a cloud portending storms:

An angel gets his wings.

Me and Meade, after the blizzard:

AND: Here's Meade's video of this morning's sunrise:

I love the music he chose — "Wichita Lineman." The lush instrumentation prevented me from really liking it at the time, but it's great now. I enjoy the subtle evocation of telegraph noise, which made me think of another old song with a representation of telegraph noise. It's much noisier:

That's "Western Union," by The Five Americans. I played it out loud for Meade, and then I played another Five Americans song with a title that had caught my eye.

Meade liked it and asked me what it was called. I told him and he sent me another video:

 

Ice shove on Lake Mendota.

This morning at sunrise:

The word we were trying to remember is "seiche," but my research after the fact makes me think this was mostly the wind and not the sloshing seiche. 

Here's Meade's video of the invisible sunrise and me fulfilling the ritual of taking a picture of it:

Swans on the ice at sunrise.

This morning, at 7:26:

They don't seem to like standing on the ice — and there is open water close by — but there they stay, slipping about and shifting from one foot to the other.

This video is by me. You'll see Meade, at 0:40, making his own swan/sunrise video. Ah! Here it is:

And here's a still shot (by me) at 7:28, showing ice looking like broken plate glass piled up on the shore:

Why withhold video of death?

I'm reading "Trump says Hegseth will decide whether to release boat strike video/The comments come after the president previously said his administration would release video of a controversial military operation, 'no problem'" (WaPo).

If there's something people want to see, why not let them see? I don't want to see it, because I was taught as a child not to look, and I've always regarded this a moral requirement. If I know it is video of a real person dying, I will read about it if it is newsworthy but I don't watch. I read about the death of George Floyd, but I did not watch. 

Do people gain better understanding by watching video of human beings dying? In the case of the boat strike, there are fact questions, and it is evidence – inflammatory evidence, but evidence. And some people want to stare at it and make up their own mind — stare at human beings, desperate and then blown up. How much can be seen?

Simultaneous sunrise.

By me:

Sunrise — 6:39, 6:47, 6:53.

Write about whatever you like in the comments. And here is Meade's video:

Have you found what you're looking for?

Ambient U2 at sunrise as the fog clears on the frosty first morning of Standard Time:

ADDED: I don't know how casual or ritualistic these ablutions were, but let this photo stand for the proposition that the weather was frosty:

"When people say it, they’re not just repeating a meme; they’re shouting a feeling. It’s one of the first words of the year that works as an interjection..."

"... a burst of energy that spreads and connects people long before anyone agrees on what it actually means."

Says Steve Johnson, "director of lexicography for the Dictionary Media Group," quoted in "'6 7' is Dictionary’s word of the year. What does it say about society? A phrase coined by the rapper Skrilla has swept social media, delighting teenagers and puzzling their parents" (London Times).

Perfect for our time, don't you think? A vocalization whose meaning is no meaning, shouted out repeatedly because it is shouted out repeatedly, that is, it's meme. But it is not just a meme — we're told — because it's a feeling, the feeling of repeating what has already been repeated.

I remember the old days, when words had meaning:

A New Day.

Rainbow sunrise panorama.

This morning, from the shore of Lake Mendota.

Meadhouse potato harvest!

At 10:35 this morning.