Exploring the sunflower theme

When we returned from our walk around the neighborhood this morning, I spotted these two extra-tall sunflowers peering at us over the fence.

July 26, 2022

I took their photo with the intention of a Twofer Tuesday post. But after downloading the images from the camera, I discovered some sunflower pics Zippy had taken last week.

Sunflower plus an upright male Goldfinch:

Sunflower plus an upside down Goldfinch:

And a whole lot of sunflowers plus an almost-disappeared Goldfinch:
July 20, 2022

Did you spot him in that tangle of green and yellow? If not, check the  upper right corner.

A little magic for this Monday

The morning we had to leave the Routt National Forest, we went down to the pond where the light was soft and golden.  I got up from the boulder to wander with my camera and heard a chip chip chip coming from the willows. Tiptoeing, I moved closer and closer still, scanning. Who was making that sound?

After about ten minutes of quiet stalking, a sudden movement caught my eye. A bird alighted in a pine tree. I quickly aimed the camera into the shadows and took a series of photos, not sure what I was seeing or whether I was even capturing an image. And then the bird disappeared again.

When we returned to our campervan, I downloaded the photos. Not great images, but hopefully enough detail to identify the bird. With Stan Tekiekla’s BIRDS OF COLORADO FIELD GUIDE on my lap, I studied the best image. Some kind of warbler?

Wilson’s Warbler.  July 14, 2022

I glanced down to consult the field guide which had fallen open on my lap. Right there in front of me was the Wilson’s Warbler page and the photograph looked exactly like my photo! Exactly the same, except my warbler’s tail is up and Mr. Tekiela’s image is much sharper.

I’m smiling as I remember that moment of recognition because it truly felt like magic. And I don’t know about you, but these days I’ll take all the magic I can get. As the sticky note on my bathroom mirror says, MAGIC WELCOME HERE.

Snacks all around!

I spent the afternoon reading through my middle grade manuscript after a ten-day break and am very pleased. There are a few tiny continuity issues to clean up, but that’s it. I am really proud of this novel in which I shine a light on the prison industrial complex via a story of friendship set in a little town called Grapple.

None of us is free until we are all free. Abolition, yo.

July 13, 2022

I’ll say it again . . . I love this book.
Snacks on me!

Heron painting

We went camping in the Routt National Forest for a couple days this past week and were gifted with a Great Blue Heron sighting. Another heron (that we never saw) was making a huge racket with its harsh call, sending this one into a nearby tree.

Unfortunately, we were far away and my heron photos didn’t turn out. But with the aid of a filter, the too-soft image has an atmospheric feel. It’s almost like a painting.

July 12, 2022

I tried drawing the heron in our Moby travel log, copying it from one of my photos, and was embarrassed by the attempt. Really embarrassed. That’s the bad news. The good news is I found a series of videos for beginners and am determined to up my sketching skill level. I began yesterday and Day 1’s lesson was “The Sphere” (complete with shadows and shading to make them 3-D) and today I drew  “Overlapping Spheres.” Five 3-D spheres in a row! Some of those spheres are a bit squashed-looking, but that’s okay. That oblong shape might come in handy if I ever attempt to draw a Great Blue sitting on an egg.

Twofer Tuesday: Mallards

Mallards are a common sight throughout North America and because of this, I sometimes forget just how stunning they are. Can you imagine going through life with a head like that?

May 9, 2022

Here’s a fun fact I just learned via the Cornell Lab of Ornithology:

  • The standard duck’s quack is the sound of a female Mallard. Males don’t quack; they make a quieter, rasping sound.

Who knew that between the less-striking females and the males with the gaudy green heads, the females are the quackers? Wow. Guess that would seem like overkill for the males to be loud and reflect light off those shiny heads.

focus unfocus

Sometimes it’s good to blur the lines a bit.

May 9, 2022

Disclosure: my intent in taking this photo was to capture the entire image in sharp focus. Didn’t turn out that way. But that’s okay, because focus isn’t always the be-all, end-all. It’s healthy to balance focus and a lack of focus. At least, that’s what I tell myself when I awaken from yet another bout of daydreaming.

Sunday Confessional: enthusiasm deficit

It’s been a rough day on the heels of other emotionally difficult days this week. Despite ordering one of these Let This Radicalize You (rather than lead you to despair) shirts a few days ago, I confess to tilting heavily toward despair right now. No need for me to list the multiple crises we’re facing because that’ll just make me more sad/angry and give people reason to quit reading.

Instead, I’ll celebrate the fact that I’m no longer withdrawing into myself and am here with a post. HELLO, OUT THERE!

Here’s one of my favorite recent photos:

June 22, 2022

Okay, that’s it for my burst of energy. Sending good wishes to anyone who’s read this far . . . 💚

Twofer Tuesday: thistle edition

Took my camera into the open space over the weekend where it’s not nearly as colorful and vibrant as last summer. The majority of wildflowers have already been and gone. However, the thistles had ample representation.

July 2, 2022

Thistles are an invasive species and I certainly don’t like coming into contact with their thorns as I run the trails, but they are fiercely beautiful. And the bees and butterflies appreciate their presence. As does this non-pollinator.

Twofer Tuesday: wading birds edition

Both of these birds were photographed in on the same May day in 2019. Florida isn’t my favorite state, but I sure do appreciate the wading birds. As I headed out that day, I saw this Yellow-crowned Night Heron patrolling an irrigation ditch.

May 6, 2019

And a few minutes later at Kapok Park, I peered through the foliage to see this Limpkin:

If you look closely at the above photo, you’ll see the left foot is raised in preparation for some elaborate screeching sounds. The foot remained aloft throughout the Limpkin’s tongue-waggling communication.

And then back to silent contemplation in its leafy green hideaway.

Possibly dreaming of its next meal of apple snails.

I took numerous photos of the heron (in hopes of getting at least one good photo), but the pose never changed. Whereas the Limpkin moved about and became very vocal, the heron made like a statue. Hence, one Heron pic to three Limpkin on this Twofer Tuesday.

Yes I Do Want to Punch

See this squirrel’s clenched paw?

May 15, 2022

That little fist is a result of me tapping on the window to stop it from eating the peanuts we put out for birds* and, for the longest time, I thought it was the same brazen squirrel making a fist at me in response to my tapping. But then I realized it couldn’t be the same squirrel every single day and that ALL squirrels do that. Their immediate reaction to threat is a fist.

I can relate. Maybe I should enlist some squirrels to join me because, Yes I Do Want to Punch / fascists in the face.

*the squirrel food is on the back fence

Intentional peace

Yesterday, we drove Moby the Great White Campervan to the mountains for some rest and relaxation. Our intention was a few hours of peace and rejuvenation. We’d never been there before and were thrilled to claim a small parking area next to Buffalo Creek. I explored with the camera and captured some nice shots. This is where I sat to work on my novel revisions.

Buffalo Creek. June 22, 2022

I sat in a chair on the little patch of beach at the bottom of the photo and revised a chapter on my laptop as Zippy and Emma napped in the van. Rushing water. Clean air. A shiny, green hummingbird buzzing in for a visit.

The entire experience soothed my spirit and, as I type these words, I’m already looking forward to a return visit. May each of us experience peace and rejuvenation in these very difficult days.

Twofer Tuesday: raincatcher edition

Birds frequently perch on the wire outside my kitchen window, but I’ve never seen this before:

June 6, 2022

It’d started to rain and these two Mourning Doves each lifted first one wing and then the other to catch the moisture, and then proceeded to groom themselves.  It was almost like watching synchronized swimmers (although I’m pretty sure the doves didn’t have to hold their breath) and I felt strangely honored to witness their routine.

I just did a quick online search for information about this phenomenon and came across a few posts on forums stating the equivalent of “I didn’t know doves did this” and “Very cool to witness.”

Have any of you seen doves bathing in the rain?

It’s been a day, here’s a pretty picture

Until a minute ago, I thought today was Wednesday. All afternoon, I planned to share this photo from Staunton State Park for a “Wordless Wednesday” post.

June 7, 2022

So what took me so long to post the photo?

Well, I used Microsoft’s OneDrive in the early days of the pandemic when  I was doing housing justice work, and somehow today when working on revisions in a Word doc, I activated that stupid program again. And somehow my photos ended up in there? I don’t know. I’m still not sure what’s going on with my computer and am ready to scream, so will stop here and gaze upon that lovely vista. And breathe . . .

Happy not-Wednesday to everyone.

Today’s gift

This morning’s trail run offered up the usual delights that included wildflowers, singing birds, and chirping insects. But I was also gifted with something unusual.

A Bullock’s Oriole! The bright feathers caught my eye and I stopped twice on the trail to watch the brilliant flash of orange as it flew and landed on various yucca plants and rabbitbrush shrubs.

Flight
Alight
Flight
Alight
Flight
Alight
Flight
and then out of sight.

I let out a happy sigh and continued on my way with a smile.

Thankful, mostly

After staying safe and healthy for the past 2-plus years, Zippy has Covid and is quarantining in our home. I’ve done two rapid tests that came back negative and this morning felt good enough to do a 4-mile run. That’s very good news. The other very good news is Zippy no longer has a fever (his temperature was 101 on Tuesday when he tested positive). The bad news is I am very much aware that a “mild” case of Covid can cause long-term health issues and am trying hard not to think about the possibility of Long Covid.

Which is why I was exceedingly grateful to be able to run today. It was my first run since the BolderBoulder and I ran up our street to the trailhead, eager to be in my happy place again. About fifteen feet in, there was a broken robin’s eggshell in the middle of the trail. No sign of a nest or baby robins, but that bright blue shell was my first bird-related sighting. A few minutes later, four magpies few over head as another flapped-flapped-flapped to catch up. Farther along the trail, Spotted Towhees sang “sweet-sweet-teeaaaaa.” Later, a Western Meadowlark sang from its perch on a rabbitbrush. Absolute bliss.

But that wasn’t all: a bunny ran across the trail right in front of me! Insects chirped! Several other runners and hikers passed with dogs happy to be out on adventures! A good day to be alive.

There was some sadness, though. For the past couple months, I’ve checked a little round cactus at the turnaround spot, hoping to see signs of life. Hoping it was only temporarily dormant. Today I had to face reality and admit it will never bloom again. Fortunately, Zippy photographed it for me years ago so I have documentation of it in all its prickly and pink glory. Here it is again:

Thank you for the joy you brought me over the years, little cactus. You won’t be forgotten.

Bunny Monday

Look at this beautiful bunny. So very mellow and timid-looking.

May 23, 2022

Wrong. This rabbit was sitting there when I came out with my camera to photograph my snow-downed poppies after last month’s big snowstorm. Not knowing it was there, I’d made zero attempt to walk softly. Despite me being practically close enough to tug on its ear by the time I spotted it, this bunny was not at all phased by my presence.

Time to face facts: brazen little bun-buns have taken over the neighborhood. Ah, well. Probably beats an alligator invasion.

In case you’re curious, this is what two feet of wet, heavy snow does to poppies:

Help! I’ve fallen and can’t get up.

Sunday Confessional: out of hiding

The last several weeks have been especially hard days on the planet and I haven’t had the energy to post anything in a while. But we just experienced a brief thunderstorm that’s made the air clean and fresh, and I’m motivated to poke my head out again.

March 1, 2022

Tomorrow is the Bolder Boulder 10k and it’s supposed to be only 50 degrees at the starting time for our wave. That’s fine by me as I prefer running in cooler temperatures, as long as my hands are warm. So I just mended a pair of super-lightweight gloves that I’ll wear with my shorts and short-sleeved shirt.

While I had the sewing box out and the needle threaded, I also mended the sleeve on my Bolder Boulder shirt from 2016 (the last time I ran the race). Now I can wear that shirt again without worrying the sleeve would completely unravel . . . and it only took months for me to take action!

The last time I posted, we were expecting rain and/or a heavy snowfall. We ended up getting rain and then about two feet of snow which was welcome moisture, but also anxiety-producing because of the leafed-out trees. Zippy and I went out four times during the storm to knock snow off branches (note: it’s surreal to smell lilac blooms during a snowstorm). I also tossed balls and a broom in the upper part of our red maple where we couldn’t reach with our poles, but my aim was mostly pitiful.

May 21, 2022

Also, the balls and broom all got stuck. Fortunately, the tree released them back to my custody.

Unfortunately, when prying snow-laden shrub branches with the broom I snapped off the extra handle we’d taped onto it for longer reach. But overall, it was a better outcome than expected in our yard and we only lost two branches. It is heartbreaking, though, to drive around the city and see the many limbs on the ground. Poor trees.

I’ll stop here and wish everyone a good weekend. Be safe and be well. 💚

On rabbits and drought

When glancing out my window the other day, I briefly thought someone had tossed a rabbit carcass in our yard. Happily, this bunny was very much alive. The same can’t be said for our “lawn.”

May 15, 2022

The neighborhood has been bunny-rich for the past several years and they’re slowly eating away the grass, leaving behind larger and larger bare spots. Fine by me. Colorado is in extreme drought (I learned this morning that the current statewide snowpack is 53 percent of median) and none of us should be dumping water into lawns. The good news? We’re supposed to get rain (and snow!) on Friday. I’m hoping for more rain than snow because the trees and shrubs are leafed out and that extra weight will break limbs. Still, let it rain OR snow! Whatever needs to fall from the skies is one hundred percent welcome here!

Here’s one more bunny pic to calm the climate anxiety. These two started fussing with each other and became so aggressive they frightened the above dirt-lounger into hiding. They chased and tussled all over the place, including in the iris fans and lavender.

Here’s hoping they’ll be tucked away somewhere warm and dry during Friday’s storm.

Update: treading lightly

After another burst of pain earlier this week, I finally made an appointment to have my finger checked out. Today, the orthopedic doctor was pleased the tendon seems stable and believes the pain is only due to inflammation that can’t settle down. She offered a steroid injection and, while I’m no fan of sharp needles, I said YES, PLEASE!

We’re hoping that shot is a one-off and that my left hand will fully recover. I’ve currently got my two fingers taped together and will do so for the next few days, but then the tape comes off and I (hopefully) will resume my regularly scheduled life and activities (that will include gardening!)

May 22, 2020

Until then, I’m going to follow the lead of this butterfly and tread lightly.