Though deprived of a supportive branch or twig, this tiny tendril remained true to its nature: rising up from the midst of more ordinary grasses, curling around itself, and then returning to the ground.
No, I couldn’t. I thought I could find its beginning or end easily enough, but there were such piles of leaves and rotted wood, not to mention new growth, I decided to stop digging, and just let the mystery be.
I wouldn’t have seen it, had I not already been at ground level trying to get some decent images of another, somewhat unusual plant (Tauschia texana, or umbrella-wort). It’s a result of taking to heart a little photographer’s ditty I made up:
Look up, look down, look all around;
Search the sky, then search the ground.
This speaks to me for whatever reason. The color, the shape, the uniqueness of it. What a fine, practiced eye you have, my friend. This one is a beauty. Looks like a book cover.
Isn’t it lovely? The color, the curves, and the simplicity all combine to create a delight for the eye. It certainly is a reminder of all that goes unseen, every day. I’m glad that it resonates for you.
Such a simple thing, like the bottom of a safety pin, but beautiful. I’m really enjoying your close-ups or macro shots, Linda.
It also looks fun! I can see the plant drawing up water, and the droplets go “whee!” as they come to the curlique, and careen around those rollercoaster curves.
It is almost a perfect safety pin, isn’t it? It took me a while to figure it out. I kept thinking, “Paper clip. No, that’s not it…” But safety pin it is. I love the thought of it as an amusement park ride, too. The loop really is nearly perfect. It would make for a heck of a ride!
I was very interested to learn that! Looks like a very interesting and creative guy. I must have passed through his town at some point, going from Boonville to Lowville, but must have blinked and missed it. Thank you very much, I will have to read up on this fella
Aside from the beauty of the item and photo, I’d like to imagine little insects utilizing this as their own special monkey bar. Maybe they play when we’re not looking? :)
Young animals play, and birds clearly play from time to time, so why not the insects? Sometimes they look as though they might be playing, even when they don’t have such cool equipment around.
I thought it was marvelous. It was only about four inches to the top of the loop — not quite as small as your lichens, but small enough. Can’t you just imagine it saying to the grasses, “Oh, yeh? Well, watch this!”
This looks like one of those party straws kids love to sip from! Nature is magnificent, isn’t it, Linda? Great capture and what a beautiful shade of green!
There’s another analogy I hadn’t thought of. You’re right — it has the same sort of curlique as those straws. All of the greens right now are so vibrant, and there are more shades than I remember seeing. I suppose part of it’s that we’ve had so much rain. Whatever the explanation, I’m glad for the result.
Thanks for the compliment on the photo. I do think I’m more aware of what’s around me now, and I think the camera has contributed, but in an indirect way. For one thing, I tend to have fewer expectations when I’m out and about. I like to say I’m like the bear who went over the mountain — I just go to see what I can see. The other thing is that the camera slows me down. I meander, and lollygag, and shilly-shally. It’s not only great for finding things to photograph, it’s good for the blood pressure.
Wouldn’t that be fun! A friend and I were talking just today about the stories we grew up with, and how many of today’s children and youth aren’t being exposed to them. I’m told I once tried to plant lima beans, thinking they would grow into Jack’s beanstalk. I don’t remember doing it, but all the adults laughed about it for years.
At the very least, it seemed energetic — and certainly playful. When I see things like this coiled tendril, I always wonder what led to the fantastic shape. Sometimes, a spider has pulled things this way or that. Other times, it’s clear that a lack of space or other physical impediment has caused it. But with this? It seems to have just grown that way. It was fun to find.
You sure that’s not a green safety pin? :-) I love it! Your perceptive description is sweet, too. It’s easy to imagine you peering closely, studying, admiring.
That’s right: peering closely, studying, admiring — and trying not to do a faceplant in the mud.
I didn’t see the safety pin for a while, because I was entranced by that smooth curve. I still am. I keep thinking, “How does a plant do that? And why?” But I can see the safety pin, now.
Well, just the bottom of a safety pin. I leave things out a lot. :-) Wouildn’t it be great if we could shrink at will to get those close-to-the ground angles?
Isn’t it cool? Every time I see something in nature that makes me ask, “Why?” I remember something my dad used to say — that there are only two answers to any question, “Why?” One is “Why not?” and the other is, “Because.”
I think now and then about the first hint of my eye troubles — the color green was much duller in one eye than the other. That’s not a problem now!
I thought safety pin immediately, Linda, and then imagined infinity. I also thought that it is one of those situations where it would have been fun to capture its growth in slow motion. –Curt
Sometimes, you almost don’t need a slow motion camera. A friend had an unknown vine creep into her patio a couple of years ago, and in the space of about two days it had found the table, climbed a leg, crawled across to the umbrella, and headed up. When she’d gone to bed, it had just reached the umbrella pole. In the morning, it was at the top, and extended out about three feet: waving in the breeze and looking for something else to latch onto. It’s just amazing.
Could you tell what kind of plant the tendril was from?
No, I couldn’t. I thought I could find its beginning or end easily enough, but there were such piles of leaves and rotted wood, not to mention new growth, I decided to stop digging, and just let the mystery be.
Ditto to Steve’s question.
(and what an interesting shot, Linda).
I wouldn’t have seen it, had I not already been at ground level trying to get some decent images of another, somewhat unusual plant (Tauschia texana, or umbrella-wort). It’s a result of taking to heart a little photographer’s ditty I made up:
Look up, look down, look all around;
Search the sky, then search the ground.
This speaks to me for whatever reason. The color, the shape, the uniqueness of it. What a fine, practiced eye you have, my friend. This one is a beauty. Looks like a book cover.
Isn’t it lovely? The color, the curves, and the simplicity all combine to create a delight for the eye. It certainly is a reminder of all that goes unseen, every day. I’m glad that it resonates for you.
Such a simple thing, like the bottom of a safety pin, but beautiful. I’m really enjoying your close-ups or macro shots, Linda.
It also looks fun! I can see the plant drawing up water, and the droplets go “whee!” as they come to the curlique, and careen around those rollercoaster curves.
Like you, I saw a green safety pin. I love the idea of droplets going, “whee!” around the curlicue.
Those droplets would be braver than I. If it were a ferris wheel, fine. Roller coaster? No way!
I’m terrified of heights, so I won’t be joining you on the ferris wheel :)
It is almost a perfect safety pin, isn’t it? It took me a while to figure it out. I kept thinking, “Paper clip. No, that’s not it…” But safety pin it is. I love the thought of it as an amusement park ride, too. The loop really is nearly perfect. It would make for a heck of a ride!
By the way — did you know the inventor of the safety pin is from your state?
I was very interested to learn that! Looks like a very interesting and creative guy. I must have passed through his town at some point, going from Boonville to Lowville, but must have blinked and missed it. Thank you very much, I will have to read up on this fella
Aside from the beauty of the item and photo, I’d like to imagine little insects utilizing this as their own special monkey bar. Maybe they play when we’re not looking? :)
Young animals play, and birds clearly play from time to time, so why not the insects? Sometimes they look as though they might be playing, even when they don’t have such cool equipment around.
That’s really cool! The shape, the color, the exuberance of new life…
I thought it was marvelous. It was only about four inches to the top of the loop — not quite as small as your lichens, but small enough. Can’t you just imagine it saying to the grasses, “Oh, yeh? Well, watch this!”
This looks like one of those party straws kids love to sip from! Nature is magnificent, isn’t it, Linda? Great capture and what a beautiful shade of green!
There’s another analogy I hadn’t thought of. You’re right — it has the same sort of curlique as those straws. All of the greens right now are so vibrant, and there are more shades than I remember seeing. I suppose part of it’s that we’ve had so much rain. Whatever the explanation, I’m glad for the result.
You are really good at this picture-taking thing. Do you think you are more aware of the simple beauty around you now?
Thanks for the compliment on the photo. I do think I’m more aware of what’s around me now, and I think the camera has contributed, but in an indirect way. For one thing, I tend to have fewer expectations when I’m out and about. I like to say I’m like the bear who went over the mountain — I just go to see what I can see. The other thing is that the camera slows me down. I meander, and lollygag, and shilly-shally. It’s not only great for finding things to photograph, it’s good for the blood pressure.
The magic of nature never fails to inspire.
Heaven knows most of us can use a little extra inspiration these days — it’s a good thing that nature is there to inspire us.
Lovely. I expect to see it suddenly come to life and reach to the skies with Jack attached to it… :) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_and_the_Beanstalk
Wouldn’t that be fun! A friend and I were talking just today about the stories we grew up with, and how many of today’s children and youth aren’t being exposed to them. I’m told I once tried to plant lima beans, thinking they would grow into Jack’s beanstalk. I don’t remember doing it, but all the adults laughed about it for years.
The beauty is in the mystery of what plant the tendril emerged from in all of its green glory. Love the simplicity and yet it seems a bit complex.
At the very least, it seemed energetic — and certainly playful. When I see things like this coiled tendril, I always wonder what led to the fantastic shape. Sometimes, a spider has pulled things this way or that. Other times, it’s clear that a lack of space or other physical impediment has caused it. But with this? It seems to have just grown that way. It was fun to find.
Bravo! Your observations are magical!
Thanks! I always enjoy being out and about, but this was an especially fun excursion, and this image certainly made me smile.
You sure that’s not a green safety pin? :-) I love it! Your perceptive description is sweet, too. It’s easy to imagine you peering closely, studying, admiring.
That’s right: peering closely, studying, admiring — and trying not to do a faceplant in the mud.
I didn’t see the safety pin for a while, because I was entranced by that smooth curve. I still am. I keep thinking, “How does a plant do that? And why?” But I can see the safety pin, now.
Well, just the bottom of a safety pin. I leave things out a lot. :-) Wouildn’t it be great if we could shrink at will to get those close-to-the ground angles?
Your sharp eyes captured another of Mother Nature’s miracles.
Isn’t it cool? Every time I see something in nature that makes me ask, “Why?” I remember something my dad used to say — that there are only two answers to any question, “Why?” One is “Why not?” and the other is, “Because.”
I think now and then about the first hint of my eye troubles — the color green was much duller in one eye than the other. That’s not a problem now!
Looks like a grape vine tendril. Could be bindweed.
Or it could be that plant from the Little Shop of Horrors, come to visit coastal Texas and begin its tendril-y takeover!
I thought safety pin immediately, Linda, and then imagined infinity. I also thought that it is one of those situations where it would have been fun to capture its growth in slow motion. –Curt
Sometimes, you almost don’t need a slow motion camera. A friend had an unknown vine creep into her patio a couple of years ago, and in the space of about two days it had found the table, climbed a leg, crawled across to the umbrella, and headed up. When she’d gone to bed, it had just reached the umbrella pole. In the morning, it was at the top, and extended out about three feet: waving in the breeze and looking for something else to latch onto. It’s just amazing.
It didn’t even need a safety pin to hold it up!
I was going to mention how you can almost see some plants grow, Linda. A few minutes time of patience and focus might just do it. –Curt
Human beings may claim many inventions, yet nature seems to have made master plans beforehand, invoking people to use her readily accessible designs…
So true, Maria. Look at this wonderful article about biomimicry. It’s not only interesting, the photography is splendid.