Here's another capture from the Doorly Zoo and Aquarium in Omaha, Nebraska. As I was working on getting this photo ready for this post, it occurred to me that the photos you see here fall into one of about three categories: photos that demonstrate a process, photos that attempt to show a unique or new view of things, and photos of things, in which process, art and uniqueness are not primary considerations.
This Moon Jellyfish photo falls into the third category. Do a Google search and you will discover over a million hits. And many of the photos are much better than this one. So why post? Partly, to borrow a phrase from mountaineer George Mallory, "because it's there."
Also, because I often see and think analogously, this photo reminded me very much of the alleged "brain" in Michelangelo's famous centerpiece of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Judge for yourselves:

In case you are wondering, the "brain" is the form in which God (the one with clothes) seems to be floating. Had Michelangelo seen a human brain before he painted this? No doubt. Did he say the strange form in the painting was inspired by brains he had seen? No. What does it all mean?
What it means is that I accidentally took a photo that is vaguely reminiscent of Michelangelo. So at least for today, I am in good company.
Canon 5DIII 1/50s f/4.0 ISO2000 67mm
Creation of Adam photo courtesy of Wikimedia

Those who follow 
This photo of a Hawaiian gecko is the third in a row in this blog that come from my 2006 collection. Like so many other photos of mine, it had been abandoned and exists only because I'm not good at throwing things away.
I'll bet you didn't know that a common characteristic of the four species of venemous snakes* in the US is that they all have "elliptical eye slits, aka "cat's eyes." The important thing, then, is that if you encounter a snake, you need to look it in the eyes to determine if it is deadly or not. If you stare in to a snake's eyes and see that they look more like a human's eyes, then he/she** is your friend.

I was anchored near the mouth of Mission Creek at Lake Oahe (Missouri River) a couple weeks ago when I noticed movement on the point of the far shore. Using my binoculars, I noticed that it was a group of deer walking slowly along the beach. A few minutes later, I saw them walk into the water and then start to swim to the south point of the bay I was in. I estimated that the swim was about 1/4 mile and was more than a little surprised since I didn't know deer could swim.

It is a fact known to my family, friends and associates. But I haven't in any formal or public way made the announcement: after 36 1/2 years of being a classroom teacher, I am retiring. I am down to my last three days with "my" students in "my" classroom.


