photography
Twofer Tuesday: American Robins
These are very hard days on the planet and so I’d like to offer these photos I took while camping last week. American Robins are quite commonplace and have a distinctive, easy-to-identify profile. Here’s one of the many I spotted in the forest surrounding Trinidad Lake:
What I hadn’t previously experienced with robins was them flying like missiles through the forest. As I stood there with my camera and big lens mounted on the monopod while listening to the many birds hidden in the trees, robins flew past just inches from me, wings literally whistling. It was wild! And at one point, about thirty of them flew out from the trees, coming from all directions, to fly across the lake. I was too stunned to even try to photograph that flock. Here’s one that generously posed:
It was a lovely morning in those final hours before we packed up to start the drive home. Even though I’m far removed from that setting, looking at these photos brings me peace once again. I hope these lovely robins do the same for you.
A dose of nature
On Tuesday, Zippy and I drove to Kenosha Pass to admire the changing foliage and take a hike. I was giddy with anticipation since we’d left Emma at home which meant I could fully relax without constantly scanning for other dogs on the trail. Emma came to us with some emotional baggage and she still, after all these years, frequently reacts to other dogs. I was looking forward to a quiet hike and photo session. But when we reached Kenosha Pass, the parking lots where we typically only see about ten vehicles when we drive past on Highway 285 were completely filled with vehicles. Not only that, the side road was also lined with vehicles. About 50 or more vehicles. Ugh.
I made a quick U-turn and drove back another mile or so to a turnoff our neighbor had alerted us to. He’d said there was a lake back there where we could hike. Well, it turns out that lake is now off-limits to the public and there were several NO TRESPASSING signs posted about but there was a parking area for another trailhead. So, off we went.
We were in Pike National Forest where the pine trees outnumbered the showy aspen trees, but that was okay. Because it was SO peaceful in the forest and there was much vivid beauty to admire. (click to enlarge)
We kept a tally of the few birds seen and heard** as we were serenaded by the wind in the pines. And then the pines would quit their shushing wind sounds to become absolutely silent. At one point, we were hiking in that silence and then came upon these trees which loudly creaked as several of them rubbed against each other in the wind.
I fought the urge to investigate which ones were producing the creaking sounds as I’d learned while hiking to Eaglesmere Lake that those sounds are impossible to locate. On that hike, I’d stood in one spot to listen and felt positive the sound was coming from my left, only to move left and then hear the sound coming from behind me. Or in front of me or to the right. It was enough to make me believe in impish woodland creatures.
When we’d arrived at the trailhead, the car display said it was 47 degrees. Clouds moved in as we hiked and the temperature dropped a bit. At one point, the sun shone down as a smattering of teeny-tiny flakes of snow fell. The most troublesome objects in the sky were the three sets of fighter jets that flew over, completely obliterating the tranquility. When the third set roared overhead, Zippy aimed a middle finger at them and shouted a profanity which cracked me up although I couldn’t stop thinking about how the wildlife must be so traumatized by those sounds. At least we understood the source of that horrific noise.
It wasn’t all pines, we did see some glorious aspen displays. Here we are taking turns being leaf-peepers. As you can see, Zippy’s approach is a bit more stealth than mine.
After we’d turned around to head back, the clouds began to darken and I started singing Winnie-the-Pooh’s “A Little Black Rain Cloud.” But it wasn’t rain in those clouds, it was snow! For a while there, we hiked through an absolute flurry.
Our first snow of the season! We were above 10,000 feet so it shouldn’t have been that unexpected, but it did feel a bit other-worldly. And it was getting colder. All summer when hiking with my camelback, the first sips of water that’d been in the tube were always warmer than the following sips. It was the reverse: the tube-water was cold and the water from inside the pack was warm. Kinda trippy!
Fortunately, I was dressed appropriately and kept warm for the 5 1/2 mile hike. Even better, we only saw ONE HUMAN that entire time. A woman on a mountain bike passed us going the other way at our four-mile mark and then caught up with us again a few minutes before we made it back to our car. We were SO glad we’d opted out of the hordes of leaf-peepers on the pass. They might’ve seen more aspen displays than us, but we had the solitude on our side. It was truly a magnificent hike.
All gratitude to nature!
**
Dark-headed Junco
Canada Jay
Possibly a bald eagle although probably a Turkey Vulture
Mountain Chickadee
Crow
Common Raven
Chipmunk
Happy Caturday from Marcel
This slightly menacing photo was actually taken in December of 2022 and I’m using it because both Marcel and his brother Loki are napping right now and I don’t want to risk waking them for a Caturday photo shoot. I’m drafting my new manuscript and it’s hard to write when Loki is draped over my right shoulder, which is what he’ll demand upon waking. Years ago, Zebu gifted me a sling for holding/carrying a feline but neither one likes it. They prefer the undivided attention that comes with me holding them in my arms.
So, I’m doing a drive-by posting and then going back to work on my project while the little terrorists are asleep.
*whisper-shouts* Happy Caturday!
Update: Just as I was about to hit PUBLISH, Loki sauntered into my writing room. Crying for attention.
Friday Haiku — open mic
on top of the world
one thistle seed dancing free
species dispersal
your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
Wordless Wednesday: Lower Cataract Lake
Things are happening
For me, being in a car or on an airplane is like being in limbo.
It’s this dead zone between two places.
But to walk, you’re some place that’s already interesting.
You’re not just between places.
Things are happening.
~ Rebecca Solnit
Fauna and flora
I spent the last couple hours working on my work-in-progress and decided to reward myself by looking through photos from this past week’s camping trip. Here’s a Steller’s Jay that did me a solid by posing long enough for a decent photo :
Such a handsome bird. And here’s a Yellow-rumped Warbler that also visited a nearby tree:
Gotta appreciate a bird with such an obvious marking AND a name that directly corresponds to said marking. Kudos to the ornithologist!
Here’s one of the many chipmunks that drove Emma to distraction:
Finally, here’s a sampling of some late-blooming wildflowers spotted while we hiked around Lower Cataract Lake:
My research says these flowers are called Mayweed / Stinking Chamomile / Dog Fennel which don’t really seem like names that suit the flowers. Granted, I didn’t give them a sniff but surely there’s another name that would better represent their appearance/demeanor. [Oops, just saw that they’re officially listed as a noxious weed here in Colorado, so maybe “Stinkin’ Chamomile” was just the most polite term available.]
Thankful Thursday: second time’s the charm
Almost exactly two years ago, Zippy and I attempted a hike to Eaglesmere Lake in the White River National Forest, but were thwarted in our efforts (in no small part because Zippy had forgotten shoes and was hiking in socks and Tevas + we’d forgotten to bring the trail info + we missed the turn due to a very faded trail sign). I wrote about that experience here. Today, I’m happy to report that yesterday we made it to Eaglesmere Lake!
Zippy took this wide-angle shot with his phone.
click to enlarge
It’s true that the last time we attempted the hike, the trail sign was old and faded. But what’s also true is that there was at least a mention of Eaglesmere Lake on the middle sign. Not so anymore. Here’s the new sign we encountered yesterday:
No mention of Eaglesmere Lake whatsoever. So, if we hadn’t been better prepared this time (as in knowing we’d started on Trail 61 and needed to turn right at Trail 60), we would’ve been hosed again. Fortunately, we had proper footwear AND trail info!
After hiking the 4.3 miles there, I asked Zippy to photograph me with the elusive lake in the background to show we’d prevailed. I wanted documentation, darn it!
And Zippy wanted a photo of me without the visor and hood:
Then we ate a late lunch. We were the only people there because, once again, we’d gotten a late start which meant that everyone else had already been and gone by the time we arrived. After eating, I clambered over the rocks to photograph the grasses (?) floating on the water.
click to enlarge
After a little more rest, we started back. Along the way, we spotted a Downy Woodpecker in the same area where we’d watched a woodpecker circle the trunk of an aspen tree two years ago. We grinned at the synchronicity. Then just a little farther down the trail, we were treated to a sighting of the larger Hairy Woodpecker! Hooray!
We arrived back at our campsite at 5:30, tired from our exertions but very grateful we’d accomplished what we’d set out to do. All hail Eaglesmere Lake!
Caturday revisions
As I revise my middle-grade manuscript today, I’ve been visited by both cats. Marcel came up on the table next to my laptop, sniffing around, wondering why I wasn’t reading on the couch where he could nap in my lap.
Still, his presence was much less of an annoyance than his brother Loki’s many visits throughout the day when he’s either cried to be fed some more or demanded I pet him (some more), and nipped at my hand when I stopped.
I haven’t been around the blogging community as much as I’d like this month because I’ve been working hard to make this manuscript shine and after hours on the computer, my eyes need a rest. I hope to catch up with everyone after sending off my revisions. In the meanwhile, I’ll have to settle for the company of my two feline friends and their tag-team visits.
Wishing everyone a wonderful weekend. Happy #Caturday!
She’s a Lady
My intent was to quickly post this cheery photo from my backyard of a Painted Lady butterfly on a sunflower (along with bonus insect), but then decided I should take the time to verify that this is, indeed, a Painted Lady. It is.
July 20, 2023
But in the verification process, I also learned a few facts:
- Painted Lady butterfly is the most widespread of all butterfly species in the world (found on every continent but Antarctica and Australia).
- Their entire lifespan (from egg to death) is 15-29 days (so, life expectancy is 2-4 weeks).
- Females lay up to 500 eggs in that time.
- They migrate, sometimes 100 miles/day, and can fly up to 25 mph.
- They’re very lovely and bring smiles to the observer (okay, that’s more opinion than fact, but tell me I’m wrong).
Contemplating that 4-week lifespan makes me think of all the time and energy I waste on things that don’t matter. Time to get busy living my life to the fullest! Spoiler alert: I won’t be laying 500 eggs.
Twofer Tuesday: two anniversaries
Today is a bittersweet day for Zippy and me. It’s the one year anniversary of his mother’s death and also our wedding anniversary. He suggested we go for a hike to soothe our aching hearts while also celebrating us. So, we got ourselves together and headed to nearby White Ranch Park where neither of us had been before. Here are two selfies taken along the trail, one by me and the other by Zippy.
The temperature was in the upper 80s which was pretty darn warm, but portions of the trail were shaded. And, to Emma’s delight, we had to cross a stream on the way out AND the way back, so twice she was able to be belly-down in cold water.
I also had the double pleasure of seeing an American Kestrel on the way out and way back, both times in the same area. And my second sighting included two kestrels! I was a great distance away so my photos aren’t great, but here’s a twofer of those majestic birds (click to enlarge).
Despite them being an invasive species, I’m very fond of thistles and their many, many permutations. Here are two I especially liked.
We only saw a couple Rocky Mountain Beeplants during the hike, but this one caught my eye for being two-headed. While I didn’t examine it closely, it truly appeared to have one bloom growing out of another.
It was a good afternoon and hike, the perfect excursion for today. We’re all glad to be back inside where it’s cooler. Zippy and Emma are already cleaned up and napping, and I’m guessing our sweet little doggie is dreaming of that refreshing mountain stream.
“May I please stay here forever?”
Wordless Wednesday: evening sky
Friday Haiku – open mic
ample evidence
nature’s engineers were here
damn, missed them again
your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
Wordless Wednesday: boulder tableau
Twofer Tuesday: ungulate edition
On the evening of our first night at Lodgepole Campground in Pike National Forest last week, we walked on the surrounding trails and drank in the natural beauty (while slapping at pesky insects). There are many beaver ponds in the area and we were happy to see a young moose in one.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have my long lens so the images are weak but am posting these because I love moose and was so excited to see one. I was spoiled by daily moose sightings when we lived in Alaska. (Sometimes they’d come in the yard to eat the raspberry canes and the crunching sound was loud enough to be heard through the walls.)
As we stood admiring this youngster, Zippy quietly said, “Um, where is the mom?” And with that, we quickly walked away. Because all those Alaska moose sightings had also taught us the danger of getting between a calf and cow moose. (In fact, one day when I was skate-skiing on the Coastal Trail, pulling Wildebeest in the pulk that was attached to my waist, I saw a calf on one side of the trail and a cow on the other. I stopped and while somewhat frantically attempting to turn us around, tipped the pulk on its side. Fortunately, the pulk had a six-point harness that prevented my son from falling out and I was able to get the sled upright again so that we could head away from the protective mother moose. Whew!)
Our second ungulate sighting of the trip was on the day we left as we drove back out to the highway. These pronghorn were standing at the fence, staring as we went by. (Zippy calmly remarked, “Hello, fellas.”) I stopped and slowly reversed to get a photo but by the time I got my camera up, they were moving away to safety.
I regret not getting a photo of their inquisitive faces, but there’s still a lot of personality in the way pronghorn walk away. A combination of nonchalance and hypervigilance. Either way, it was a lovely final image.
Climate Movement Monday: hope + determination
Welcome back to Movement Mondays! Last week I was out in nature, refilling my well as we camped in Pike National Forest. We hiked the West Jefferson Trail through many lodgepole pines, marveling at the way the trees worked in community to support each other. Massive trees leaning on smaller trees that continue to grow as they support the weight of others. Witnessing that felt sacred and brought tears to my eyes.
July 25, 2023
Our trip was a much-needed respite from the realities of our quickly changing climate and today I’d like to offer some thoughts and hope from the frontlines of the fight for a stable climate and just transition off fossil fuels to renewable energies. The good news is that we have the answers and technology, and only lack the political will. Also? Many, many people are speaking up and more are joining the fight each day. But we need people to understand that we do, indeed, have the power to avert the worst of the climate crisis. As Rebecca Solnit tweeted: We spent a lot of time trying to convince people climate is real and urgent; that has mostly been accomplished. Now we have to convince people that we can do something about it, that we have the solutions, that most people already take climate seriously and support action, that doing what the climate demands could produce an era of abundance, not austerity, that the main obstacles are political, that civil society has overthrown regimes and status quo and changed the world before and can again.
The status quo is not permanent! However, the powers-that-be want to normalize this extreme weather and are feeding us headlines like this:
We must not buy into this narrative that wants us to accept an unlivable planet and future. Instead, let’s center this sentiment:
And this:
There are more of us than them and at the forefront are young people who are literally fighting for a livable future. Elise Joshi, executive director of Gen Z for Change, interrupted Biden’s press secretary at the Voters of Tomorrow’s summit last week to confront the Biden administration over its climate policy. Newsweek wrote about it and you can watch the video here. (See how brave, young Elise takes a steadying breath before she begins speaking.)
On a final note, I think it’s helpful to remember that we’re raised in this country to pride ourselves on our individualism. We’re told to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps rather than accept “handouts.” But humans are social beings and we need each other–socially, emotionally, and physically. We are better and stronger together, and our survival depends on each other. So, I invite you to step into this moment and join the fight. Make your voice heard! I’d love to connect with you and hear what’s happening in your corner of the world, so please leave a comment. (And don’t think your comment has to be in agreement with what’s here–my intent is to start a conversation and find some common ground. Any and all thoughts are welcome!) Let’s be like lodgepole pines and lean on each other!
Solidarity! ✊🏽
Sunday Confessional: the best laid plans
Tomorrow we’re leaving for higher elevation and cooler temperatures. For this, I am very grateful and know we’re exceedingly privileged to be able to avoid the heat. My confession? I’d hoped to have written and scheduled a Climate Movement Monday post (and possibly a couple other posts with some of the photos I’ve been taking), and that’s not going to happen. But if you do have anything to share, climate-wise, I’d love to hear (especially if it’s good news!), so please leave a comment.
One of the many sunflowers in the backyard. July 19, 2023
In the meanwhile, I extend wishes for a good week, moderate weather, and lots of smiles and laughter.
Red-eyed kinship
Feeling a kinship with this Spotted Towhee and its red eyes.
In my backyard. July 20, 2023
Just spent the last couple hours staring at my manuscript on my laptop as I made revision notes in the margins. My agent sent me a whopping seven pages of editorial thoughts/questions at the beginning of the week and after spending several days mulling over her email, I’m now plotting how to implement the changes I want to make. I’ll be honest: today’s session was harder than yesterday’s when optimism was high and I actually allowed myself to think “This isn’t going to take as long as I’d thought!”
But the cool thing about the writing process is that none of the emotions I feel last forever. Not the positive or the negative. So, I’m going to step away from the manuscript and rest my eyes, knowing that tomorrow will bring its own set of emotions. Whatever they are, I’ll be ready (but hopefully, not reddy). Sorry, not sorry. 🙂
Wordless Wednesday: imprisoned rocks
Can I get an amen?
The Amen of nature is always a flower.
~ Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.
All hail the monarch!
I have many memories of milkweed plants and monarch butterflies from my childhood in Wisconsin, but haven’t seen a living monarch in quite some time. Years and years and years, to be (in)exact. There’ve been some sightings of no-longer-living monarchs, one in Florida and another here on a neighborhood street a looong time ago, along with increasingly frequent milkweed sightings that make me happy because the plant is crucial to monarchs’ survival, which is why I got upset when a patch of milkweed on the corner got hammered by hail last month. I was able to restore one plant to an upright and stable, position, but then a couple weeks later noticed someone had chopped it down. *sob*
Well, I’m thrilled to report an update. As we finished our neighborhood walk this morning, we stopped three houses up the street from our home to admire a patch of milkweed in bloom. Sharp-eyed Zippy whispered, “Look.”
My heart soared as we silently watched that delicate beauty move about the bloom. I reminded Zippy of his phone which he slowly and carefully took out to document the moment. I’m so grateful for this photo and will return to it again and again. It’s hard times on the planet these days, but the magnificent collaboration between this butterfly and plant gave me a much-needed boost. May it do the same for you.
Thankful Thursday: House Wrens
I just spent a whole bunch of time at my laundry room window with my camera, watching the House Wren family. In mid-April, I sent a wish into the universe for wrens to nest in the box Zippy put up beneath the deck (a nest box he found while cleaning out his mother’s home) and then in early June I noted wrens had moved into the nesting box!
For the past week or so, there’s been a clamor coming from that box. A frenzied wall of sound that prompted me to tell Zippy “Sounds like 16 babies in there!” The noise level goes WAY up when a parent arrives with food, causing many spontaneous smiles on our faces. But it wasn’t until today that I went down with my camera and, oh my goodness, what fun! Not only fun, but educational.
First off, all those sounds appear to come from just two babies. (I never saw more than two beaks poking out.)
Second, those wren parents work their butts off.
Not only does a parent bring food every food minutes, but they also remove poop after each feeding. (That was my guess after watching for a while, but I had no idea how it was done.) Per Wikipedia, the nestling produces a fecal sac within seconds of being fed, which the parent removes. The below image isn’t great (click to enlarge), but it does show the sac in the parent’s beak.
However, the poop saga doesn’t end there! If the nestling doesn’t produce a fecal sac, the parent will prod around the little one’s hind end (no, that’s not the correct anatomical term) to stimulate excretion. Which explains the next image.
After the nestling(s) took the insect, the adult waited a bit and then dove into the nesting box. This only happened the one time, so I’m guessing the little ones were doing a pretty good job of pooping right after eating. Probably not fun having Mom up in their business.
At one point, I was baffled by all the sounds I was hearing because neither nestling was visible at the hole. Who was so agitated? And where was the sound coming from? I stared and stared at that hole in the box. Then movement caught my eye and I noticed an adult with a moth in its beak on a timber below the nesting box. It made no sense, but it was clearly the one singing the song because I could see their throat move. Weird, I thought, singing with its mouth full. What’s up with that? And the dancing?
When I described what I’d seen, Zippy suggested that maybe the adult was trying to entice the youngsters to leave the nest. That made perfect sense to me, but a quick online search didn’t turn up any info to support or deny that theory. Either way, it was so delightful watching that tiny bird dance around with an enormous moth in its beak, all the while singing a beautiful song.
That was the most enjoyable laundry room experience I’ve ever had! Thank you, universe, for granting my wish. This wren family is balm for my soul.
Pondering and plotting
After talking (in very general terms) with a friend/critique partner today about my work-in-progress, I had an epiphany. I realized it was possible to slightly expand the primary setting for my story in a way that will allow me to more deeply explore some elements/themes I’d like to include. And yes, I realize that last sentence is pretty cryptic, but until I have a complete first draft I always err on the side of “keep your mouth shut, Tracy.”
But now I’ve now got a whole bunch of questions I must answer before implementing that change in the setting. As in, I need to know the how and why behind the expansion of the setting. Does the property I want to add belong to the protagonist’s family or a neighbor? Is that property already in good shape or is it in need of restoration? Would money change hands or could it be a barter system?
I’m very excited about this new idea. I’m also feeling bombarded by the many possibilities bouncing around my brain. Overwhelm alert!
Here, in solidarity on this #Caturday, is Marcel looking equally overwhelmed (although I’m pretty sure he’s not drafting a novel and is merely plotting how to move that heavy brick currently sitting on top of the kibble bin ). May the two of us settle down and find clarity in the not-too-distant future. Well, one of us, at least.
Friday Haiku – open mic
Verdict’s in (again)
Supreme Court = cow pie
illegitimate
your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
Tracy Abell 