A Crack in the Sky

The morning (specifically, just before sunrise) of October 24, 2025, brought with it an interesting sky. Interesting, that is, if you were observing it from our balcony in Henderson, New Zealand. Since Jeanne and I were present, each with a cup of dark roast in our hands, we discussed it and determined that said sky had suddenly become camera-worthy. I dashed (did the 74 year-old shuffle) off to get it.  

Since you readers were unable to be here, I thought it my duty to snap a few and share them around.  

It was a very dark morning as you can see from this first photo. However, just about the time we were grumping most loudly that there'd be no sunrise pictures today, the sky was rent apart (is that proper English?), just above the place on the horizon that the Sun would have risen, if visible, and it became obvious that I might have a chance to get a shot or two.  Of what, I wasn't sure, but every photographer's motto is something like, When in doubt, click away, and sort it out later. (To be honest, I don't know if that's a legitimate motto or not, but it's the way I approach photography.)

I rapidly zoomed in, hoping that I would find that wayward Sun.  This picture doesn't show it but that sky was roiling all around, looking like Someone was stirring a giant flat-white.

And, what do you know, I did find it.    

It moved very rapidly through the narrow slit.  

And before I knew it, it was disappearing into the gloom.  

It was over in about a minute. The sky returned to solid dreary and remained so most of the day. Considering what we had seen, I had to stop and wonder, "What are the odds?"  

Since these pictures and minimal commentary make up a rather brief post, I decided to add on a drabble; that is, a story of exactly 100 words.  

I first started writing Drabbles after reading a novel by Jeffrey Archer. He included two such stories, one before and one after his main work, and he explained that he had started writing them when Reader's Digest challenged him to write one, but gave him only 24 hours to do so.

I've felt very hesitant to publish my own stories here. Putting it bluntly, I worry about how many of you will read them and think they're stupid.

I was greatly encouraged however a few weeks ago when a published author with whom Jeanne and I are acquainted, and who lives here in New Zealand, showed me one of her drabbles. She has several published books and screen plays to her credit, and I thought if she can write drabbles and be proud of them, then so could I be proud of mine. 

She calls them 'fast fiction,' rather than drabbles, and I learned that there are quite a number of people, here in New Zealand, and around the world, who write fast fiction. Many are the 100 word variety that I like, but there are many categories that are somewhat longer, but are all extremely short, compared to the 3,500 to 7,500 word stories that are considered, 'short.'  

There was even a gathering of fast fiction writers and fans held locally, about 4 months ago.  I didn't go to it but may attend one in the future. Prizes were awarded.  

So, here are a couple of mine. I'd like to encourage any of you to try your hand at writing them as well. It almost feels to me like working out a puzzle when I have to say what I want to say in only 100 words.  You give and take as you approach your goal.  -djf

#70   School Days 

“Sigh”….’Summer vacation’s over. Well, three days left.  Just one year left to suffer through at Northland High School. Then, who knows?  Naturally, my class schedule stinks.’   

‘Two days. I hate how new shirts fit. I hate being scrawny.’  

‘Last day of freedom so enjoy it.  Don’t think about the homework coming up.’ 

‘Well, I gotta say, the janitors outdid themselves. This place looks way better than it did at the end of last year.  Smells good too. I better get to class.’ 

‘Hang in there, now. They’re coming. You’ve taught for 35 years, you can manage one more.’

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#77  A Picture’s Worth

Doug had been photographing the rising Sun for weeks. He delighted as it shifted each dawn along the horizon.  

The newspaper today reported an industrial death. An employee suffered an early morning fall from a tower crane; his supervisor stated the man had complained of dizziness.

Curious, Doug accessed computer files, found the photo he remembered, and zoomed in. The sun rose beneath the crane and two figures were visible near the booth. 

After optimizing sharpness and contrast, he gasped and stared. The man’s action was obvious. 

“9-1-1,  What is your emergency?”  

“I’ve just taken a picture of a murder.” 

A simple experiment

I've shown pictures of magnets several times to those of you who have been following my blog. I've told you how much I loved them as a kid, and how my interest in them as an adult goes a little deeper.  Studying them in my retirement has lead me to watch a series of physics lectures from MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology), on YouTube and lots of other videos, covering the types of magnetism, crystalline atomic structure, unpaired electrons, electron shells, and quantum fields, to name a few.  Do I understand everything?  Of course not.  My math skills peaked in a Calculus class at NMU in 1971, and they've been declining ever since.  

Nevertheless. I have discovered in my old age that I can still be wowed by what I learn.  As humans, with our limited senses, we are unable to directly appreciate much of the wondrous world we live in. Magnets allow us to perceive what's happening at the atomic level and that simply astounds me. I have some magnets set up in our living room here in New Zealand and I never get tired of visualizing the fields that they create. The fields may not be visible, but their effects certainly are when I place other magnets close to, or within the fields and watch them interact.   

This is a shot of my magnet display as it is today, 9/30/25. As I sat and looked at it about half an hour ago, I got to thinking about that chain of magnets standing straight up on the lower shelf. How much do you suppose they weigh, standing like that? I should find out.   

So, in this post, we are going to be looking at just that part of the display. The upper portion doesn't affect what we're going to investigate to a measurable degree.  

We all know that magnets have magnetic fields, which attract or repel other magnets.  If a magnet is attracting another magnet, then it will be exerting a force on that magnet or, in this case, magnets.  In this experiment, I'm going to measure just how much attraction might be occurring in my display. 

There is a cylindrical, 20 mm wide by 24 mm, N42 neodymium magnet in the porcelain box. It is supported from above by the magnets in the stainless steel container on the top shelf. (first picture)   

Below the cylindrical magnet, there are 41, five mm, N35 neodymium magnets, which are called buckyballs, in contact with each other and forming a 'chain.'  

This is a kitchen scale, set to read in lbs.  I chose to use pounds since the scale shows thousands of a pound. More accurate than using grams. 

I intend to weigh the buckyballs first on the scale with no outside magnetic field interaction, and then on the scale with the straight chain of balls inserted into the magnetic field of the cylindrical magnet above them. (As in my display) I should see a difference in the weight before and after placing the balls in the field.  My question is, how much of the weight of the buckyball chain is the cylindrical magnet supporting?  

The thickness of the scale is about 20 mm, or four of the Buckyballs, so I removed four of the 41 shown in the picture above, to keep the separation between the cylindrical magnet and the top of the buckyball chain consistent with my display.  

The weight of 37 with no outside magnetic field acting on them is .024 lbs. (Because they're all magnets, they just happened to form a ring when I dropped them on the scale.)

The weight of the buckyball chain with the upper end inserted into the magnetic field of the cylindrical magnet reads zero.  It would appear that the entire weight is being supported, however, 

The kitchen scale I used is not accurate for very low weights.  As you see here, two buckyballs show no weight at all.  Using my finger, and then later trying three buckyballs, the lowest number I could generate on the scale was .004 lbs.  

Despite the inaccuracy of some measurements, it is obvious that a large percentage of the weight of the buckyball chain is being supported by the field from the cylindrical magnet.  

Since it required three buckyballs to show a weight of .004 lbs., and the weight of the buckyball chain in the photo reads 0.0 lbs., I can assume that the true weight of the buckyball chain must be less than three buckyballs.  At least 95% of the weight of the chain, and probably a little more, is being supported by the other field.

I experimented a little further. I found that if I added one more buckyball to the chain for a total of 38, the chain would be pulled up into contact with the cylindrical magnet. Obviously then, over 100% of the weight was overcome.     

I would love to be able to suspend a chain of buckyballs in midair.  It would make a great display, but I don't think I could get the tolerances to work out.  I'd need some much smaller buckyballs for one thing for 'fine-tuning' and much steadier hands to pull it off.  It might be so touchy that air currents could affect it.  

I had fun today.  I don't want to invest in a really accurate scale, but I'm going to continue to think about lifting my chain of buckyballs.   

Do you have any ideas?   -djf

In case you're wondering, here's the story with the upper magnetic display.  

Inside the stainless steel container are three cylindrical 24mm outside diameter, by 15 mm, N42 neodymium magnets with a central hole of 5 mm.  A bronze rod (Non-magnetic) of 4 mm diameter extends through them, resting in a dent in the floor of the container.  Above the container, three more magnets of the same size, repelled by the three inside the container and by each other, float along the rod.  They are not attached to it of course but are held in place by the repelling forces that their like-poles generate.  (North to north or south to south)  

Did you know?  

I've read that neodymium magnets last a very long time, losing only about 5% of their 'strength' per 100 years.  Imagine my top display magnets resisting gravity, and each other, for century after century. 

A cold magnet is generally 'stronger' than a warm one.  

When we think of magnets, we're thinking of ferromagnetism, but did you know that there are also diamagnetic, paramagnetic, antiferromagnetic and ferrimagnetic materials?  

Magnetic 'bottles' can be formed and used to contain high temperature plasma? 

Are you becoming even a little more interested in magnets?  

Here is a video, one of many I've watched, that is interesting.  I generally get bogged down part way through, but try to stick it out until the end, when the presenter summarizes. I understood that pretty well. ''

One side note.  The presenter talks in this video about 'virtual photons.'  When Allie and I were talking about this video not long ago, she commented that the virtual photons should really have been called 'faux-tons.'  I agreed.  Science jokes, gotta love 'em.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cb9pdRjbQRo&t=338s

Just Pictures

Today's post has no theme other than that of showing you what I consider to be interesting photos. All taken recently by me from around our home in the retirement village called, Waitakere Gardens, here in Henderson, a western suburb of Auckland, NZ.  

I hope you enjoy them.  

From our balcony in the morning.

From Earth, at night.  Admire the edge and craters of the Moon. 

This photo is unusually sharp. We live at sea level and since our climate is classed as, "temperate rainforest," our humidity levels are general high, which makes getting closeup shots like this difficult.  I often have focusing problems due to the water vapor in the atmosphere. 

But every now and then....

I haven't seen this product before.  I found them in St. John's Butchery in Glen Ennis. These are apparently lamb-filled pockets of dough, that you bake for dinner.  

An explosion of color, halted at .0001 second.  

An early-bird

A moment in time. 

Flowers in a planter along our roundabout

Life and death in a planter on our balcony.  Jeanne and I sat and watched the drama play out.  

A close-up of the preceding photo. As this honey bee, no doubt from our hives, passed by, a spider reared up and grabbed it, probably instantly injecting some venom into it. It buzzed madly for only seconds before dying.  The spider then slowly dragged its succulent meal down into the darkness beneath the growing succulents.  

This was taken today, 9/24/25.  We've had over an inch of rain already.  This was taken from outside the cafe, at the end of the Atrium, looking across some of the rose gardens to the apartment building called, Millbrook.  

Again, from our balcony in the morning.  I hope you enjoyed them all.  -djf

Moon

Those of you who have been reading my blog since 2014 have learned that I love photographing the Moon. 

As it happens, we recently had a lunar eclipse occur, so I'll start today's post with some shots taken during that event, which I watched for about an hour or so.  Here, in New Zealand, the Moon was setting, just before dawn, as the eclipse unfolded.  Remember that it started as a full moon.

It disappeared below the horizon shortly after this. 

Although the Moon is tiny in this next eclipse view photo from earlier this year, I like the shot. It was taken from Heather's apartment on the 5th floor of the Vines. She happened upon Jeanne and I taking shots from a lounge on the 5th, and suggested her balcony would be much better. 

This is a shot I took during another eclipse a few years ago.

A friend of ours, Margaret, suggested that this picture deserves to be in a caption-writing contest. Do any of you have a caption? Leave it (them) in a comment if you like. Here are some mine.

'Little Johnny's homemade warhead far exceeded his family's expectations.' 

'Well, we can quit tracking Asteroid Bennu, I guess.'

For these next captions, I'm pretending the Moon is Mars.  Looks kind of like it after all.  

'That had to be Phobos. Deimos wouldn't have made that big a splash.'

'Well, if there is life on Mars, it's extinct now.'  

This is a shot I took about a week ago. I zoomed in for the second and third pictures.  

I'll leave you with this last one, a favorite of mine.  That's at Moonrise, of course.  -djf

The frond-artists have gathered. Spathe surgeons, strop your scalpels. Begin.

When I was a kid, I spent a great deal of time each summer watching the activities down the hill from our house at the Castile-Location Mine.  My brother, Wayne, and friend, Bill, and I would coast our bikes to the bottom and watch the ore cars come out of the hoist and move along the tracks to the end where they dumped, the steam shovel loading dump trucks from the constantly replenished pile, and the bulldozers cleaning up the area when the overspill from the trucks became a hazard.

Now I'm nearly 74, living in a retirement village in New Zealand, and I find I still like to watch other people work. 

Today, the Bark tree trimmers arrived. I don't know if you'll be fascinated with the following, but I plan to show you pictures, with a bit of commentary added, that I took during their efforts here today.   

The trees really look nice now.  I'll show you how they turned out later.  Almost makes me feel as though I too had just had a nice haircut and no longer feel shaggy.  (Well, as a matter of fact, I did, and do) 

Here they are, just getting started. I caught a frond in mid-fall.  

Bark is the company that also provides three full-time gardeners for our village. It's a huge job keeping this place looking so good all the time.  

Here's a shot of some action from our balcony.

And another, even closer to us. 

It wasn't long before they had a pile of tree parts ready for chipping. 

This guy is holding some spathes, which are the sheathing bracts that hold the flower cluster of the palms. They are woody, and about 1/2 inch thick.  Quite heavy. You wouldn't want to get hit by one falling from the tree. 

These are the seed clusters that split the spathe to emerge.   

When they first break free, they are covered in flowers, and the bees go absolutely nuts for them. I think that is one of the reasons the honey made by the bees hived in our gardens have such a wonderful, unique flavor. It has a high percentage of palm flower nectar added to that of an assortment of other flowers and banana blossoms as well.  

I have to put in an action shot for you of the grinding process because I think I would have wanted to feed some fronds into the chipper when I was ten.  I think Wayne, Bill and I would have all wanted to be the chipper-guy, after of course, we were the bucket-guy.  

The before and after view.  Bark did a great job. 

August 8, 2025 above and August 25, 2025 below.  

Next time they come I'm going to bribe them to give me a ride in the bucket. I'm thinking a dozen Krispy Kremes. Think it'll work?    -djf

My favorite tree

When I was a kid, our rural home was ringed by the hills of Northern Michigan.  On one of those hills, the one visible from my place at our kitchen table, was a gigantic lone spruce. It towered above the lesser trees that made up the forest surrounding it. I admired it each and every mealtime.

When we moved into our apartment here at Waitakere Gardens, in Henderson, New Zealand, I immediately spotted this lone tree against the horizon as I stood on our balcony.  It's a Norfolk Island Pine, rather than a spruce, but, in my opinion, it dominates its surroundings almost as well as my boyhood favorite did.  It became my new, old-age favorite. 

I have come to rely on it to provide photographic opportunities.  Today's post will highlight this tree, with pictures which have been taken for the most part during sunrises, many times with birds decorating the space around it, and sometimes in the fog.  

I'll start with my most recent photo. When I saw my tree in the fog that morning, I hoped that a bird or birds would fly by. I held my camera on it for several minutes before this gull graced us with its presence.  

I often share my sunrise pictures with a friend, Trevor, who also loves photography, and I generally claim that I employ bird-handlers who release birds at just the right moment for me to catch them in my pictures.  Here are two that were released perfectly. (The real trick, and the reason my bird-handler charges so much, is to get the birds to flap their wings in unison.) These two have clearly been working together for years and are in high demand, among photographers around Auckland.  

This is one of my all-time favorite shots.  I wish my handler could have released the bird a little closer though.  I've tried zooming in, to make the bird appear larger, but then the framing of the scene by the palm fronds disappears, and they add depth to the picture.  

In most of these, I wish the birds were just a little closer.  Oh, well, I'm lucky to have them at all. 

Not long after I started using this tree as a subject of many pictures, I went walking in search of it. I found it in the back yard of a home less than a mile, as the crow flies, from our apartment. We're seeing just it's tip.  It really is quite a massive tree. My boyhood spruce surpassed it, I'm sure, but when I found it, I saw that this one's trunk, at ground level, was approaching a meter across, so it's definitely an impressive specimen and a suitable substitute for my long-lost Castile giant.     -djf