Fog lay over the pasture north of our house this morning.

The bank on the northwest corner of 13th and O Streets in Lincoln was designed by I.M. Pei. Its straight lines are bent in reflection by the windows of the building to its east.

I read a passage from Psalm 92 this morning: “O Lord, how great are your works! How deep are your designs!” (Psalm 92:5, LH). This study of the terrain covering the back of my right hand shows deep design embedded in me.

While yesterday was gloriously sunny, today began with some gentle rain. Green is the color of the day.

A beautiful morning for an old barn to celebrate standing one more day.

As a college graduation gift from Dr. Jacob Rhodes, my physics advisor, I received a kaleidoscope with a lens on the end rather than a chamber containing colored beads or bits of glass. Doing a little research, I discovered that this type of kaleidoscope is called a teleidoscope, from several Greek words meaning “viewing shapes at a distance.” I decided to try to mimic the view by photographing some bookbinding paper through the bottom of a cut glass vase.

One of the joys of watching the passing of the seasons is seeing how the light plays across surfaces as the path of the sun across the sky changes throughout the year. This is an image of parts of two windows in my office with the light around 8:30 a.m. CDT.

Before the sun has risen, the countryside lives in a time caught between the moments when only enough light exists to allow us to make out shapes and shadows and to recognize objects by their profiles. Then after the day is in full light, we can see colors and textures. But for that in-between time, we straddle the two and can make out something of the profiles of things and a little of their color and texture.

A little rain has fallen most days for the past week or so, and today was no exception. These droplets had beaded up on the windshield of the Subaru overnight and were waiting for me when I went to the parking lot to pack the car for our return to Nebraska from Kansas.

My niece, Jamie, presented her senior piano recital on Saturday, May 2. I had a few minutes beforehand to admire the craftsmanship of the Steinway she would be playing. This is a closeup of the workings under the open lid of the piano.

This image and yesterday’s image were both made using an amazing lens, my Nikon’s 60mm AF Micro Nikkor. Translated that means it is a lens that allows me to get really close to the subject. The trade-off is the narrow depth-of-field, which helps highlight a slice of the subject.