there last week, heron photos today

post #426
       I have been having a hard time pinning down the photos I want to share today.  And I think I sent one missing, which I have been trying to find.  In the meantime, however, here is the gist of things, all from another recent short trip for an important family gathering.
       I stayed with friends who live in an urban area but they are close to parks and a reservoir. So they knew about the herons that come every year to visit and nest in some very tall trees along the water's edge. Other birds come to the reservoir as well.  We went there one evening and then again the next morning, now with my camera and my 70-300mm lens. This is NOT IN ANY WAY bird photography equipment, but even so it can give the feeling of the activity going on.  I had to brace myself on fence posts ("make like a tripod") and remember that there could be cars crossing the small concrete bridge we were sharing ....

      However, since this post is about nests, I want to start with the house, before we left to watch the herons.  I was sitting on their couch, and these are the quiet views I couldn't resist trying to capture while I was waiting for our excursion. I have left them looking like they looked to me. Warm and welcoming.

And next, the herons, the nest building, and community building:

evening view, with just my iPhone

Life is always much better in the morning, right?

my sharpest (i.e. miracle) photo, a crop of the following photo (upper right hand section)

There are at least 4 herons in this photo.

The twigs and small branches they were busy bringing back to the nest looked just as spiky as their legs.

As far as we could tell, there was some procreation going on -- versatile nests.....

In the meantime....

All I know is that this swan and duck seemed to be friends.

assisted living platform

     I have spent way too much time working on these photos, though I might add a couple more once I get some distance from this initial effort.  But I do hope these views are interesting.  Needless to say, I loved being there and zoning out with all that was happening. I didn't even wonder then about how this annual ritual will be affected by climate change.  Of course, now I do wonder.
 

each photo has its story

post #150
       In recent weeks, I feel like I have been busy just keeping up.  Consequently, some photos have fallen through the posting cracks.  I'd like to share a few of those today.

       This first one was taken in June, in California, at a Vietnamese restaurant where I went for some take-out PHO.  While I waited, I found myself fascinated by the single photo on the wall.  Well, I guess pho and photo do have at least a phonic connection.  Anyway, I ended up having a long conversation about the image with one of the waiters, who thought the bridge shouldn't be off center.  I said I thought its offcenteredness made the photo a lot stronger.  It was graduation day in the area, so the place was busy. I just took a single photo and I didn't ask permission.  But I think of that experience and of this photo often, for some reason, so I have wanted to bring it to this blog.  I still wish I could cross that bridge -- and that viewers would sometimes want to enter one of my photos just as much. 

 

      On a different trip, again with family, I ended up with a bedroom that, just like home, had active birds staying within view.  I finally went outside and sat on the hillside to see what was going on.  This robin's nest was right above my window!  The babies were big enough to be pretty hungry, which explained all the activity.  Here are three of the photos I took, including the cleaning of the nest.  I was told that birds will take debris, like an egg that didn't grow, and carry it far away from the nest so that it won't leave a clue below that growing baby birds are nearby.  I wasn't expecting egg removal to happen, though, so my last photo isn't as steady as I would have liked it to be.

      

an unusual sighting of an anhinga, on the highest tree on a cliff by the lake near us

three of the herd of deer who seem to have adopted our field this past week

        I'll close with the full moon in Denver, during a delicious dinner outside.  This is really how it looked.  It was a thrill to have it be right where we could see it so well.  Sometimes things just work out that way, and they really do.

       

bird families, creeks and Cumberland Falls

post #136

       Spring continues, for just a bit longer.  A friend, Mary Camille, sent me a photo of baby robins newly hatched in a flower pot on her deck.  This photo says HUNGRY!  The parent had gone for a quick perusal, perhaps?  (Thanks for this birth announcement!  Please keep us posted on their progress.)

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         On my own recent day of birth, we were visited by not one but this time TWO pileated woodpeckers.  They were checking out our fallen willow tree.  I didn't have my 300m lens on the camera at that moment, but I did catch the following photo as record of the event, with my 25 - 105 lens.  I was pretty amazed to see this pair of pileateds -- from our kitchen window.
  
  
  
       For today's post, I want to share several images of our creek, which is so central to the natural life of this place.  Tonight, after so much rain, it would look very different than it does after weeks of no rain, but, as always, so much of plant and animal and insect life is connected to its ebbs and flows. The first image is what I might see when I first get to the creek, before crossing over it and walking along one side of it.
  
  
  
  
   The next view was taken during a dry spell, looking back at the creek after having gone a bit farther along.  Notice the dark tree trunk in the upper right of the photo:
  
  
  

       This third view is from not much farther along.  I am now standing with my back near the edge of what we call the first waterfall.   Notice the same tree, again in the upper right of the photo:

    
   I have been thinking about this creek and its variations and my many photos of it because this last photo is going to be used on the cover of a book that will come out in October!  However, for design purposes, the publishers have cropped the photo so that only the middle section is shown, in what is almost a square.  I understand their need to do this, but of course I am attached to the image as I took it.  Does that sound like some kind of worn out artist's lament?  In any case, I am so pleased the image will be used because the book is This Day: New and Collected Sabbath Poems 1979-2012, by Wendell Berry, to be published by Counterpoint Press; I will be saying more about this book in future posts. 


     To end today's post, I want to share two images from today when we returned from the wonderful Farm House Inn in southern Kentucky and stopped at the nearby Cumberland Falls.  It was exciting to feel the energy there after 24 hours of steady rain. I began thinking about how water comes from under the ground and comes from our creeks.  It becomes a river -- and then comes Cumberland Falls and such -- on the way to the ocean. 
      As I will say yet again, we all live downstream, and I just can't understand why we are not courageous enough to preserve sources of clean water, essential to the health and well-being of our planet and of our selves. 

      I enjoyed having my Panosonic Lumix waterproof point and shoot to use in the pouring rain, even though I don't use it often enough to remember all its bells and whistles.  Now someday I would like to see the famous moonbow these falls produce during a full moon on a clear night.  I am sure there is a bigger crowd for that than there was today, despite this spectacular show.

on a Sunday before Christmas, all through the house,

post #116
       a kind of a pall hangs over us.  Gray is the color of the day.  Outside there are real gray clouds, yet the chill that comes isn't from not having warmish weather but from what happened to young children in Connecticut. This light today is not interesting for photographing - though clouds often are -- but, oddly, it does gather us all in.  
      I am deeply sorry about these senseless killings.  I am equally deeply convinced that our culture of violence is part of this story.  At the very least, I don't understand what multiple rounds of ammunition have to do with the second amendment and the right to bear arms.  I never have understood.  I never will. 

     I had planned today to take a few of my photos and share the story behind each one --   where I was, what I saw, what worked, what didn't, what the problems are, why I like the image, etc.  For starters, I am sharing a single one, the image of the hornets nest that first appeared on the last post.  Here is the photo again.

        Next, for purposes of this discussion, I have somewhat cropped the image.  I do believe it looks better.  I rarely play with my images, however.  What you see is what I saw, as best as I can manage.

                                                                                                                                                                             
        Now here is where I was and what I was thinking:

        I was taking a walk in our woods, with camera in tow.   The small cemetery on our place was along the path I was on.  I took some photos there in evening light and eventually noticed the hornets nest high in a tree along the edge of cemetery.  I almost missed it.  I share this because I have found that invariably it takes time to see everything.  I have to slow down, knowing that otherwise I am capable of missing even the most obvious image.  It is like circling and considering something from many angles.  It requires a learned process called "paying attention." My work is to feel present in the place I find myself.

       A problem was that I did not have my tripod with me.  And it was getting dark.  So while this photo is sharp, it could be even sharper.  Also, the light of the setting sun at first gave too much contrast to the nest.  It didn't allow the texture of the nest to be shown as fully as I wanted it to be. 

      Another on-going consideration is the movement of air -- which usually becomes increasingly still at dusk.  This is what it did so this time.  I never would have gotten what clarity I did had the wind continued while the light faded.  The balance of light and movement is becomes the challenge.

       As I said last week, I was truly fascinated by these textures and the hard work it took to make them.  
      Finally the light was right, and then it was gone. Next I had to bring myself back to the practical because I needed to finish my walk before the path got totally dark.

       What I haven't done yet is to return to this spot another evening, probably with the tripod, and see what I could do.  The situation is sure to be different, and I would be writing differently about the experience.  I plan to do this, of course, and I will hope it provides something of interest to share on this blog.

       Writing these two accounts causes me to perceive a parallel.  I know that what happens resulting from the tragedy in Connecticut could be important.  I know it is possible to see the time is right for changing the course of how things are, especially if President Obama stays true to his intent.  We need to work with this reality before the possibility for change is gone.  We can't continue simply to hope the light shining now on us to honor these and so many other lives slaughtered won't be lost in darkness.  
      I ask myself again, how can we each be present in the places where we find ourselves. I also ask how can we work together and not feel alone in working for change.