A Joy to Seen, A Joy to Spent

I got a shot of a lovebird

 and a beautiful view of Ungaran mountain on my way home

"All things happen
 

On its balcony and are resumed within,
 

But the action is the cold, syrupy flow of a pageant. 

One feels too confined,
 

Sifting the April sunlight for clues,
 

In the mere stillness of the ease of its parameter. 

The hand holds no chalk
 

And each part of the whole falls off
 

And cannot know it knew, except
 

Here and there, 

in cold pockets
 

Of remembrance, 

whispers out of time"

(Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror by John Ashbery)