Waking early to another cold morning here in Michigan, Katie and I wandered out to the backyard to fill the feeders. I knew the birds would be hungry. Katie waited up on the deck as I went down to get seed from our metal storage bin.
As I was pouring seed into a flat feeder several yards away a little chickadee dropped down to the rim of the bin, checking to see if there was anything good within reach. I waited quietly for him to decide. Noticing me, he flew up into a nearby tree to wait.
I slowly walked over and he hopped down a few branches. Watching.
I reached into the bin, grabbed a handful of oilers and offered them, hand outstretched, to him. He dropped down a couple more branches. I stood still.
From another encounter. This morning I had no camera and little light.
Closer, closer, he skipped from branch to branch, clearly fixated on the oilers in my hand. Inches away he considered how to get breakfast, but wasn’t quite brave enough to make that last hop.
I moved my hand closer to him. We were at eye level and he looked at me. I looked at him and moved my hand a fraction of an inch closer.
He stretched out and delicately chose an oiler from my palm, then hopped up to a higher branch to enjoy it.
I had a rendezvous with a chickadee this morning, and I liked it.
Just last week I was heading up to Michigan’s thumb to attempt an astrological photo shoot. As you read, it didn’t exactly go as planned. But I did get this:
The last shot in a fun photo shoot.
So I’m happy. But I also can’t wait to try it again! The end of the month will be more moonless nights…if I can get the weather to cooperate maybe I can get an even better image. Maybe one with the whole Milky Way in the frame!
But until then there are always barns.
The cow caught my attention. Yes, it’s a real cow. I wasn’t certain at first.
On the way home from my starlit night I took my time, wandering around big farm blocks, teased by wide open vistas filled with barns.
Just a plain grey barn is beautiful too.
There are so many beautiful barns in the thumb!
I’ve shown you this one before, but it’s so cool, it deserves another showing.
It seemed like I’d see one across a huge field, get there, and then see more on the far side of another field!
This is the sweetest little barn.
I wasn’t too sure where I was during most of my barn hunting, but it didn’t really matter — how lost can you get in a thumb?
Classic red always works.
But it wasn’t just barns that I found fascinating. I loved the big expanses of fields, and the tree lines in the distance too.
The pops of white birch and the bit of yellow made this a must take shot.
And there was this guy who moved a wing and caught my eye while I was focusing on a barn over his left shoulder.
He stared at me, decided I was no threat and went back to surveying for food.
What barn was I focused on? Well, these two:
A two-fer.
But there were so many to choose from.
One of my favorites from the morning.
I could have driven around looking at them all day. It was almost as fun, in a different way, as shooting at night out under the stars.
Katie here! Mama says lots of you are anxiously awaiting my test results so I figure I should let you all know that the Vet called today. She was very very happy.
What did the vet lady say, mama?
She said while my numbers aren’t perfect, they hadn’t gotten any worse than when the blood tests were done in late February. She said I was stable and doing really well.
Well, I could have told you that!
Time to go celebrate mama! I have parks that need inspections!
I’ve been feeling my oats lately, and telling mama and daddy off if they are the least bit late for any of my six meals a day. And don’t let them even think about forgetting my bacon at 8 p.m!!*
So anyway, the vet lady said I didn’t have to go back for 3 whole months! Wow! No scary car rides, no needle sticks, no smelly offices for, well, like almost two years if we’re counting in dog math.
But on the other hand they give me treats at the vet’s office and mama doesn’t do that anymore.
Don’t call me late for dinner!
So maybe I should fake an illness….
Talk later, my dinner #2 is due in approximately 11 minutes and I need to keep a close eye on my serfs.
Chop, chop! Let’s get moving people!!
*Mama note: She gets a liquid med at 8 p.m. that tastes like bacon so we just told her it was a treat. So far she’s buying that.
I’m taking an online Milky Way photography course. There are many modulus, lots of basics, but lots of details too. Our homework this ‘new moon cycle’ was to take a single image of the Milky Way. I’ve been trying to get somewhere dark on a night when there are clear skies.
March 12 at Katie’s park. Clouds AND too much light! (Bortle 5)
It hasn’t been easy. There is so much light pollution where I, and most of us, live. You can check out the amount of light in your area using a light pollution map. There are 9 levels of light pollution, from a bortle 1 (darkest) to bortle 9 (the most light).
Friday late afternoon I drove a couple of hours up into the thumb of Michigan, with a specific destination in mind. Though we were under heavy cloud cover the weather people said the sky would clear by 9 p.m. and stay that way up till 3 a.m. The Milky Way wasn’t scheduled to rise until 3 a.m. But I was running out of nights when there would be no moon, so I decided to hope and headed north.
I reserved a hotel in Bad Axe, and thought I’d shoot in the Dark Sky park which has an elevated platform and pretty close to 360 degrees of sky and was located ten miles away in Port Crescent. Imagine my despair when, after checking into the hotel, I arrived at the park to explore before sunset and found it closed for the season! OH NO!!!
March 27. Too much light, and so cold my fingers froze after only 7 shots.(Bortle 4)
I drove up and down the thumb coast looking for another location as the sun began to sink. I slowly came to the realization that any open access to the beach was going to have me pointing my camera in the wrong direction. I needed to be able to see the horizon in the southeast. I’d be looking north or west on the western side of the thumb.
Downtown Port Austin. Too much light, and looking northwest.
So I drove over to the eastern shore, remembering two spits of land at Grindstone City that Katie and I had explored three years ago while camping up there. I needed to see if I’d feel safe there alone at night.
April 1. This looks promising. (Bortle 3)
Turns out one of the spits of land is a boat ramp, and the houses at the top of the ramp didn’t appear to be inhabited in this offseason of cold and wind. I didn’t see a street light either. I figured it was my best chance. I drove back to the hotel for a nap, setting my alarm for 2 a.m.
But at 2, when my phone started chiming I was so nice and warm in a comfortable bed I considered just rolling over and letting sleep claim me again. After all, the clouds were supposed to be moving in and what were the odds I see the Milky Way anyway? Plus it was a half hour drive to a dark boat ramp. Kind of scary. Maybe I’d just stay in bed.
But that would be a waste of careful (and not so careful) planning. It was my last night of clear skies before the moon put in an appearance. My last chance this moon cycle to try. So I convinced myself to at least get in the car and drive up there. And I gave myself permission to not get out of the car if it didn’t feel right.
On the drive I could see stars overhead. I never saw another car the entire trip. Arriving at the boat ramp it felt comfortable. Twenty-eight degrees, no wind, I could set my tripod up right next to the car, facing out over a small bay and Lake Huron.
I decided to sit in the car and let my eyes adjust. Also to make sure that I was alone out there. So I turned off the headlights and waited for the dash lights to dim They stayed on. And on. I thought maybe if I locked the car doors they’d turn off. So I clicked the button and the doors locked and the dash lights still stayed on. I sat there waiting and they shone brightly back at me.
Well darn.
Maybe I’d just get out and set up the camera and wait for my eyes to adjust out there. I pulled the interior door handle to release the lock and the car alarm went off. Well double darn. Here I am trying to be inconspicuous and the dash light won’t turn off and now the headlights are blinking and the horn is blaring and I’m fumbling trying to get it all to just stop!
Deliberately overexposed to check star focus. Is that the Milky Way near the tree?
I finally click the right thing and the horn stops, and I sort of fall out of the car, slam the door and begin setting up the tripod. But one of the top sections of the tripod isn’t tight, and the camera flops around and in the dark I can’t figure out what I have to turn to stop the flopping.
I take a deep breath and tighten up everything I can figure out to tighten and wonder why nothing seemed loose in the hotel room. I take a test shot, deliberately overexposed, to help me check the focus of the stars. I think I see the Milky Way in that shot, but frankly, it’s hard to tell.
Whatever, there are stars so I’m happy.
I take several (ok, 50+) images, moving around a little bit, but finding that if I move away from the car I’m in even more light from the streetlight over on the other spit of land, and hope that maybe at least one of them is exposed correctly while also in focus without tripod tremor. (At one point my camera slowly sank to the right because something still wasn’t tight!)
I never felt nervous, never got cold, and I lost all track of time. I packed it up around 4 a.m. I was pretty much taking pictures of the same tree the entire time, but I was never bored. That’s what getting lost in the stars does for me.
April 2, 3:00 a.m. Lots of light everywhere. Not even sure that’s the Milky Way, but it was pretty!
I wish I could do more of this, but it’s just so hard to find a place that’s dark enough but where I still feel safe. I’m going to start planning for the next new moon cycle. Where to go, where to go…
And a side benefit? There were lots of barns around Bad Axe. Lots and lots of barns.
Now where was I? Ah yes, tramping around chilly Kensington Park one morning last week. I was checking out the herons on a dreary overcast day with spitting snow and drizzling cold rain.
Standing guard on a rainy morning.
And, as you know, I left the herons after a few minutes of attempting to get decent images in the low light and headed into the woods in hopes of finding skunk cabbage, a sure sign of spring here in lower Michigan.
Have a good walk lady! Don’t forget about us over here!
And of course I hoped to spend some time with my little birds too. Those chickadees and titmice and downy woodpeckers and nuthatches that hang around visitors begging for a snack.
A tiny little one waits in line for breakfast.
Since it was early, and the weather was bad I was probably the first person to venture into their woods that day. I knew the birds out on the boardwalk were hungry, they had already told me so. And the little ones back in the woods were ravenous too.
Just showing off my cuteness before I grab a peanut.
As I was being swarmed by a small cloud of birds I heard the sound of a red-bellied woodpecker high up in the trees. As I fed the little ones I watched him watch me.
I see you have breakfast bits. I’d like to place my order, please.
Down, down, down he moved. Slowly, from one tree to another, pretending he wasn’t interested in all the activity. Not interested in those luscious peanuts or succulent woodpecker suet balls in my outstretched hand.
I’ll take some, lady!
He even did a couple fly-overs, as he gaged the risk versus reward, but he couldn’t make himself land on my hand.
That’s OK, more for us if he stays away!
I waited patiently, camera held in one hand, the other outstretched filled with delicacies. Eventually my shoulders ached and I dropped a few treats on the ground and proceeded up the path and around a corner, intent on getting further into the woods.
I’ll sing for you lady, if I get one more treat before you leave!
He immediately dropped to the ground and gathered up his breakfast. I laughed and went on my way.
But just around the corner a new batch of birds waited for their snacks. I spent quite awhile there, photographing them in the branches and on the grasses near by, as they waited patiently for their turn for a treat.
Please notice how beautiful I am.
Then I heard it. The distinctive sound of the red-bellied, and there he was, just out of reach in a tree near my head. Once again I held out my hand, and once again he flew over but couldn’t trust me enough to land. And once again I tossed him a peanut or two and went on my way.
I finished my first course, do you have more?
Further into the woods a nuthatch was chattering loudly, and I stopped to give her a treat.
Don’t listen to him, lady. The rest of us are much more polite.
A bluejay showed up, and darned if that red-bellied wasn’t far behind.
Hey Mr Jay, pay attention, the lady has treats!
Sighing, I moved over a bridge to the other side of a wetland, one of my favorite places to stop and feed the birds. Several littles were waiting for me and you know who followed me over there too.
Hey, don’t forget about me!
As I was leaning over to put some seed on a bench for everyone to share I heard a gobble to my right. And there was a magnificent manly turkey, with his three wives strutting down the path.
Yes, you can admire my stunning colors. Everyone does.
He was so handsome that I pulled the camera away from Mr. Red-belly and focused it on the big boy showing off just feet away from me.
Thank you for giving us the right of way, lady.
Mr. Red-belly wasn’t having it and he dive bombed my head while I was looking toward the turkey. As the turkey harem moved on down the path I left my increasingly rude stalker with a few seeds and moved on in the other direction.
Hmmmm…what looks good this morning?
And that’s the way the rest of my walk went. Wherever I stopped to feed a hungry bird, the red-bellied and increasingly fat bird followed. I finally dropped a whole lot of treats on the ground and got away.
Everyone was hungry.
I think he followed me for at least an hour and more than half a mile. He never came to sit on my hand but he knew he didn’t have to. If he was just persistent he’d get a contactless treat.
Not all woodpeckers are so rude, lady. Thanks for the suet ball!
Though I describe him as a stalker and a pig, I actually smiled each time I’d hear his call. I’d look for him and there he’d be, a tree or two over from me, acting like he was entitled.
Even the deer thought he was a bit pushy.
I guess he was.
As I scurried away I heard a munching sound in the underbrush. What kind of bird was making a sound like that?
I found this all on my own! I don’t need handouts!
Ahh….the infamous little red squirrel bird. He never blinked as I stood and took his picture. This guy didn’t notice me either.
Well, hey. I found my own breakfast too. Those birds asking for handouts give us all a bad name.
Everybody was hungry that morning, and I realized I was too. No one was standing around offering me breakfast, so I decided it was time to head home and find something to eat.
I should probably say thank you, lady.
But wait! I was in the woods looking for skunk cabbage, looking for a sign that spring has indeed come to lower Michigan. Did I find any? Or was I too distracted by the bird drama swarming my head?
Skunk cabbage poking up from the swamp.
Well of course I found it. And it made me smile too.
Watching an osprey build her nest on a cold early morning.
I was at Kensington wandering around looking for birds while this photographer was stationed in one spot watching one subject. I’m a bit envious of his equipment, but I think I had more fun.
Thanks, Cee for hosting these black and white challenges!
I woke up this morning and watched my girl sleeping curled up in her bed at the foot of mine. These days I watch her breathing and feel grateful for another day.
Welcome to one of my parks!
She’s doing so well, we have her stabilized and she’s been good for several months now. She’s eating meals and doing her jobs regularly. Her poo passes the ‘looks normal’ test, and she’s drinking water on her own again.
It was a cool and windy day. Perfect.
I know she’s still in stage 4 kidney disease but you wouldn’t know by looking at her. What you will notice is she walks more stiffly, and her back legs give out if she tries to jump, or goes around a corner too fast.
This is my yard today!
I take her to her parks as often as I can, knowing that she loves to be out and about, especially in her woods, on her trails, checking under her picnic tables. Her ears don’t hear much anymore, and I suspect her eyesight isn’t perfect. But her nose works just fine.
And she’s a happy girl.
I love it out here, mama!
That’s the most important thing, that she’s happy.
She still barks at squirrels on her deck, at diesel trucks going by, at neighborhood dogs, at people walking on her street without a sheltie permit. She loves her meals, all five plus one late night snack of them. She still loves her walks through her neighborhood.
Let me at that snowball!
Two days ago I took her to one of her parks and we walked the earthen levy at the end of the lake. It was a windy day, no one was out there but us and she got to roam freely. She wasn’t at all ready to get back in the car when I was. She’d obviously dressed better for the adventure than me.
Something smells different about this snow!
This morning she received a special gift. It snowed. My Katie-girl loves snow. She loves it’s cold. She loves to eat it. She loves to chase a well thrown snowball. She loves everything about snow.
I can’t stop smiling!
We went on several walks today, and explored the backyard too. While out there I grabbed some pictures because in the back of my mind I wonder if this is her last snowfall.
My yard is looking good!
Not that she looks like she’s going anywhere just yet. But will she still be here next November or December when winter closes in on us again? Probably not.
Yep, I’m a happy girl.
So for now I toss her a snowball. I watch her twirl in happiness. And I take pictures to save the moment.
Our girl.
Because each day is a gift, and I’ll want to unwrap this one again some day.
I’ve heard the herons are back out at Kensington, I’ve even seen pictures on Michigan birding Facebook groups of them flying around repairing and remodeling their nests in preparation for this year’s branchers. (Did you know baby herons were called branchers? Me either, I had to look it up!)
Everybody claims their place in the neighborhood.
This morning, feeling restless, I decided to go out to see even though it was spitting snow and ice cold rain. But the forecast says it’s only going to get worse around here in the next week so I decided to just go this morning.
Bringing in additional building material.
I arrived at the nature center around 7:45, it was dark and dreary and there were no other cars, unusual in my experience. Apparently most photographers knew better than to even try. I worried that there wasn’t enough light for my long lens.
Coming in for a landing.
As I was standing on the boardwalk, struggling to capture the comings and goings at the heron rookery, I heard a very loud cry right next to my right elbow.
Hey lady!!!!
This guy was demanding breakfast. It kind of felt like I was still at home with a certain short fuzzy little girl. I stopped what I was doing and offered him a couple peanuts from my pocket. He eagerly jumped into my hand and scarfed them up.
Hurry up lady, I’m starving over here!
I had been wondering, on my drive to the park, whether the female blackbirds had arrived. And yes they have. At least one has. And she was disgruntled to be out there in the snow, so I gave her a few peanuts too.
What’s with the snow, lady? I expected spring would get here before I did!
I took a few more shots of the herons, vowing to come back some sunny morning, then headed into the woods. I was looking for skunk cabbage, a sure sign that it’s spring around here, even though it’s still snowing.
Nobody every gives me anything.
And of course I’d be visiting with my favorite little birds. I’ll share those with you in the next post.
We and our lady friend will wait right here until you come back, lady.
I’m taking a Milky Way photography course on-line. It’s consumed a lot of my time, as there is so much to learn. I’ve been working on improving my night photography skills since 2017 when I took a one evening class. Too bad that one night there was sleet and rain, but I learned a lot.
And now I’m learning more. I went out a couple weeks ago to a local park, in the middle of the night, just to practice my settings and see how it felt to be out there in the dark again.
It felt pretty wonderful, but that was a park close to home. We have lots and lots of light around here, and I’m going to have to go further afield to find darker skies. Still, it’s good to practice.
I need to go out again soon and practice some techniques for getting the stars in focus. But it’s raining and it’s going to keep raining…maybe right through the next new moon window of opportunity for Milky Way shooting!
So, out of frustration I went back to some images I took in the summer of 2020 when the comet was flying high and I was standing on a sandy bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. Once the comet was done for the night I turned around and saw the Milky Way.
Tonight I wistfully clicked through those pictures. They sure aren’t perfect, but they remind me of a wonderful time. But I hope to do a much better job of focusing on my next attempt!
Now if it would just stop raining.
Be warned, those of you that live in dark areas of the country, eventually you’re going to hear from me, asking to camp out in your backyard. I promise to be quiet as I skulk around under your sky.
You might even want to join me. You’d be amazed at how time flies when you’re standing in the dark looking up at millions of light years looking back at you.
Change Is Hard 