The image above looks like stained glass but it’s a whirlybird or whirlygig from a Maple tree (below). The papery part of the seed pod was backlit and then a picture was taken through a microscope using a Sigma camera with a Foveon chip for its superior interpretation of color, doncha know.
You can look at other cool microscope vision artwork from a guy soon to be famous. Somewhere. Not only is Jerry a color expert, but a guy who writes what you might consider funny in the text that follows:
WHIRLYBIRDS, by Jerry Sedgewick
Whirlybirds aren’t birds but they whirl. So many whirl it’s like ballet dancers performing at a Philip Glass concert gig. Which is why they’re sometimes called whirlygigs.
Those who want their lawns as clean as carpeting in the house don’t like the innocent whirlybirds. Some take leaf blowers to the whirlybirds at six in the morning or, like a former neighbor, remove their shirt and blow these off the roof.
That neighbor was mildly buff and showed off his torso while leaf blowing on the roof which is something that would never occur to me. Does he invent stories in his head? Like some hot woman will walk by and scream at the top of her lungs to get his attention to say, Can I come into your house? I’m so turned on. Not just by you but the hefty leaf blower.
It was hard to tell by his look what his intent was. He didn’t have a look that suggested intense concentration, focusing on each whirlygig to blow it in a boomerang circle because it would rise in the rush of air and then helicopter its way down most often further up the roof over his unsuspecting head. If he was concentrating he’d see the rebel whirlybirds. He’d get smarter if he concentrated and aim the blower right at just one whirlybird to blast it over the edge of the roof while the whirlybird itself careens helter skelter and then, as though the air was a substance like water, suddenly screeches to a halt mid-air and gently helicopters down to the lawn.
But he didn’t have the look of concentration. It alternated between a smirk to himself and the appearance of a solid homeowner guy doing what needs to be done. That smirk was like he knew others watched behind curtains and he snickered to himself about having gotten our attention. Like a kind of victory over people who didn’t have anything better to do.
Of course he couldn’t have known we were thinking: How does his wife put up with it? Because she must have felt some twinge of humiliation over her shirtless man doing something so out of context she must have withered in shame. And, sure enough, it was validated some years later with a divorce.
Never underestimate the power of a whirlygig.