Gray

@grays.art

Nature with an amateur naturalist. Hope you ❤️ spiders, bugs, birds & flowers! 📸 Daily originals of live critters & habitats 📷 Common & Latin names 📸 In-the-field, manual & hand-held 📷 No tripod, studio, stacking, AI, nor burst 📸 Canon, Olympus & Apple eq

What, what’s freedom if we can’t love & grieve for whom we desire attend funerals or not remember the dead or not even names of friends becalmed (tidal memories some lost some tenacious (they loved the tilt of your head parasail full of wind)) drawn thru thick seas by names unspoken you loved?

This cheeky, young, native green anole (Anolis carolinensis) stowed-away on the car I was driving away from the Naples Botanical Garden late last month. Noticed him on the hood (see comments), pulled over, he obligingly jumped onto hand, & accepted a walk to shady bushes. #colorADay #greenSat #eck

Macro of a young green anole (Anolis carolinensis) perched on a human hand, photographed near the Naples Botanical Garden on October 27, 2026. Viewed in a profile perspective facing toward his right, yet leaning left to look at us, the small lizard has a vibrant, uniform lime-green coloration across his elongated head and slender body. His dark, focused eye features a pale golden rim, and the fine, textured pattern of his granular scales is sharply resolved. His delicate front leg extends downward, anchoring his slender toes against the skin of the hand. The background is a soft, bright green out-of-focus foliage bokeh.

respond to me as you would a child your child i’ve called you from afar lend me all your attention as if expected as if this is your purpose your only purpose to listen to reflect so certain in your love i take you for granted you wouldn’t have it any other way

The conference of a murder of crows 14 genuflect, cavort, caw, & preen, self-organized on sand pine branches, 1/4 & 1/8 notes inking morning fog, their topic: Rebranding, they’d prefer to be called a “party,” for in ultraviolet light, how they see, they’re rainbow-colored, playful & arty.

Telephoto shot of a serene misty marsh landscape at sunrise. In the upper third of the frame, a dark, dense silhouette of a pine forest tree line stands crisp against a solid, warm golden-orange morning sky. Below the trees, a thick, low-lying blanket of soft fog cuts across the center, partially obscuring the distant grassy marsh banks. The lower half of the frame features a perfectly calm, smooth water surface that acts as a mirror, casting soft, blurred golden reflections of the mist and the dark vertical shapes of the forest above.

Boredom living on a sailboat make repairs; do laundry; watch the weather; brew morning coffee; let the cat on deck; follow him on inspection, detectives, solving nightly stow-away mysteries: three ballooning spiders; two flying fish; Coleridgian albatross excrement… imagination can polish a turd.

Light rain crackles across the marsh, we measure our footsteps— considered progress, slow enough to gather each tendril— separate plant from animal, harvest the grass mantis— captured only by our cameras, our eyes get tired instead— when we return to our blank homes, we sleep like the dead—

As highway traffic’s schwa crescendos while the black sky retreats to indigo, as one, awed tree frogs’ diminuendo, here and there, chirps a defiant cricket, heckles the mockingbirds’ divertissement, rousing the other birds from nest & roost; so their own calls draw their dreams’ curtains shut.

Muted whinny keystone, aerial acrobat, monochrome nit-picker: the modest downy woodpecker doesn’t try to escape, nor intend to construct spec homes for barred owls & squirrels, yet within the hollowed slash pine, emanate scratches & pecks, there’s reward by minute reward for lost solidity #poem