Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
Don't ask me why, but this morning I thought of the observer effect: where doing an experiment or observing causes an impact on what is being observed. If I remember it right.
As I stepped off the porch and headed off with the meathead, I looked at the beginnings of the dawn and registered how it looked like another red-ball dawn, there was just enough cloud cover to make another spectacular dawn.
And I saw a thin line of blue lights, somebody's roof-line Christmas lights.
That's when the thought came that trying to write a Ramble with Storm every morning changed how I observed things when I set off with him.
Instead of just burrowing inward and considering life, myself and my family as the meathead and I ramble off, I am drawn to observe the natural world and the world of our town and our neighborhood.
Another remarkably quiet morning for wildlife.
The belted kingfisher flashed off--the white portions giving it away against the drab background of bare trees--from the south old clay pit to the north one.
That made me suspect there might be some geese on the smaller south pit. And there was, 14 Canada geese very quiet and very tight to the far south end, just off the point by the old gravel boat launch.
They eyed us uneasily, but didn't fly off or honk.
As the meathead and I came back into town, rail workers milled about again, waiting to start work in their vivid florescent orange hood coats.
And I wondered, ``Is Schrodinger's cat dead or alive?''
Yes, I am having a little fun this morning.