Every summer we are lucky enough to have orioles visit our feeder. They never stay long enough, many adults leave sometime in mid to late August which seems too early.
This lady serves gormet grape jelly!
The juveniles stick around a couple more weeks, eating the jelly as fast as they can.
What do you mean I have to feed myself?
Even though the youngsters are pretty, I always miss the adults.
You’d think the lady would put a roof over our lunch!
But last year and this year, after quite a long break without seeing any adults, I’ve had adult males and on occassion an adult female stop by the feeder in late August!
You shut up! No YOU shut up!
I’m always excited when, long after I think they’re gone, they show up for a few more days.
I need to grab a snack before those two come back!
I guess they’re fueling up for their trip south to Florida, or Central America. That seems like such a long flight I can’t imagine.
I thought I’d check out the finch food. Not as good as jelly.
And it seems even harder to imagine the youngsters being successful at the trip on their own. I wonder if families reunite once everybody is down there or if once they leave they’re leaving their family forever.
You’re not my mom!
I know they’re gearing up to leave me. But I bought a big jar of jelly this week, hoping they’re around long enough to finish it all.
Sometimes I go camping just to have a few days away from everyday responsibilities. Time to nap and read and snack and daydream.
Just one exit up the road from home.
Sometimes I go camping with a specific goal in mind. I’m hoping to get that perfect Milky Way image, or find a new bird to photograph, or see a part of the state I haven’t seen before.
My favorite site at this campground.
Last week, at the last minute, I got to reserve 3 nights in my favorite campsite at the local state park. It’s a spot where Katie and I camped many times. This trip I hoped to introduce Penny to campground noises.
“Did I hear something over there, mom?”
She’d been there for a couple visits last year, but it was all overwhelming to her, and even with her dad and me right there she was pretty nervous about all the people and cars and noisy trucks with trailers driving by.
“Hey! What’s my tent doing out here in the woods, mom?”
This year she’s older and wiser and a little bit calmer. Though she still looked when noisy things including people with their dogs walked by, she didn’t automatically come undone.
“I’ll just stay real close, OK mom?”
She was only visiting me for a few hours each day, and while she was there we took plenty of walks around the campground, letting her sniff the vacant spots…
“I approve of this one, mom.”
…and moving swiftly past those occupied.
“Nothing to see here, just protecting my bikes.”
She even got to walk past a couple of pitbulls and their flustered dad. She was a rockstar.
See them coming around the corner up there? Penny’s tail was already up in alarm and I didn’t notice them until they were much closer. She knew right away. She never barked, she just heeled with me right by them.
We spent about an hour on her second visit inside the tent as evening fell. I think she would have been fine spending the night in the tent if I had insisted. But she was a little restless after an hour and if I’m honest, I wasn’t looking forward to packing up in the morning with her on site.
“I guess this is OK mom. But daddy has air conditioning and a bed. Just sayin.”
It takes me an hour to pack up without the distraction of a curious dog. But next time, if she’s willing I think we’ll spend the night in the tent. Maybe she’ll begin to understand it’s all an adventure and mom’s got her back.
“Umm, excuse me mother, let me be clear. I’m not taking a shower.”
The other reason I jumped at a chance to camp at this site is the opportunity to photograph birds. Every time I’ve been at site 16 there have been birds flitting around. Their images are hard to capture, they’re not like Kensington birds, posing for treats.
A really poor image of a cardinal that swooped in and then out.
These birds are never happy when they stop by and you’re at their site. I sat for hours, still in my chair, camera ready, and didn’t catch a good look at one bird, though I heard redstarts and vireos and wrens all around me.
Mostly I got bird imposters like these brown leaves.
Then this guy bounced out of the underbrush.
A gorgeous brown thrush.
After looking at me he hopped up on a vine with his back to me. In a moment, though, he turned his head to make sure I got the shot, and then he took off.
“Did you get my good side, lady?”
I smiled, at least I got one decent image of a bird!
And then I noticed this little red squirrel looking a bit worse for wear. She skittered around the campsite and then disappeared.
A skinny little red squirrel.
While I’m looking for her, tossing a few blueberries in the direction she ran, a opportunistic chipmunk showed up, very happy with the blueberry offering.
“Hey lady! You got anything to spare?”
Meanwhile Ms. red squirrel, apparently a tired mom, was up in a tree at the edge of the campsite, happily chowing down on a nut.
Nom, nom, nom…
She was happy until she noticed the chipmunk was feasting on blueberries.
A special treat!
That seemed to make her very unhappy. She watched the chipmunk more carefully. I tossed a few more blueberries. She was conflicted.
“Wait! Those blueberries were for ME!”
And then she ran as fast as she could down that tree and back out into the site where she scored a blueberry of her own.
“That chipmunk got one, but he’s not going to get the rest!”
It all made me smile.
Camping generally makes me smile, even when it rains, which it inevitably does at least one day on every camping adventure. At least this time it was overnight. And in the morning the sun rose again.
Another beautiful morning.
Time to get packing and head home. A little fuzzy girl was waiting for me to provide her next adventure. She’s kind of demanding that way. I don’t mind.
Another adventure in the books.
Till next time, site 16. Thanks for the new memories.
Penny here. I interrupt your August to bring you a special announcement. Mom and I NQ’d yesterday.
But I can explain.
You remember last weekend when we went to a ‘fun’ match and I decided in the ring that I wasn’t having fun so I refused to participate?
Mom? Why are we up so early?
Well. The real trial was this weekend. Mom signed us up for both Saturday and Sunday, back when she had high hopes. Possibly when she was wearing those rose colored glasses you have heard about. She went to an eye appointment this past Wednesday and doesn’t have rose colored glasses anymore. If you know what I mean.
My crate is really nice.But I’d rather be sitting on mom’s lap.
So yesterday (Saturday) we got to the venue with a couple hours to spare. Mom wanted me to be fully acclimated to the building and the noise and the other dogs and stuff. No problem mom, none of that stuff bothers me at all!
They were supposed to start my event about 10:50, and we were the third dog in our ‘class, Beginner Novice. Beginner Novice is supposed to be easier stuff than Novice, and the judges just might give you a little more grace if you’re slightly off.
That’s what mom hoped anyway.
Sitting next to my mom, waiting to compete.
So last week at the fun run was a disaster. This week mom and I practiced every day and I did everything perfectly in my training basement, and in my driveway and even on my group walk on Friday night.
My Friday night group walk was in Holly and they have this cool mural on one of their buildings!
So Saturday, while we were waiting mom tried to balance my in crate rest time with some playful, upbeat practice time where we’d heel around the room a little, or go outside and work on my recalls, which I might add, were perfect.
The judge was running long, so it was 12:45 before our event started. And I was the second dog instead of the third because a dog didn’t show up. Mom wasn’t too worried, I seemed relaxed, happy and alert.
Is it time yet mom?
But as soon as we walked into the ring (and mom started heeling me from way back so I was all focused on her when we entered) I started to act different. I refused to sit on my own, and she had to push my behind down and stare at me real hard.
That freaked me out too, and when we set off heeling I stayed a bit behind her just to be safe. Mom was not amused but she just kept walking hoping I was back there somewhere. I did sit when we halted at the end of the heeling pattern. But it took me awhile.
These evening walks have such great light.
I lagged as expected on the figure 8, but I sat each time we halted. Slowly, but I sat. I was getting kind of ticked because so far there had been no cheese offered for all my hard work.
Then I let the nice lady judge do her sit for exam thing. I sit, she pats me on the head. I’m not supposed to move. It was the least I could do, as it was obvious she wanted to pet me. I mean, who doesn’t?
Plus not moving was becoming a thing.
I sat still as a rock in the middle of the room for my long sit while mom walked around the room. Everybody in the area was staring at how beautiful I looked sitting there. I didn’t move at all except to keep my eyes on my mom.
Last week’s Friday night walk was in an enchanted forest!
She was feeling pretty proud of me and obviously she forgot to give me my cheese.
The last thing I had to do was a recall. I love recall. I get to run straight to my mom and I know I look beautiful doing it. It’s one of my favorite things to do. But mom could already tell from the way I walked with her over to the start line that I was getting more and more miffed about the lack of a proper reward.
So she set me up and kissed me on my head and whispered in my ear to please just come to mom, and she walked over to the other side of the ring, turned around and called me.
I’m really more of a couch potato than a fierce competitor.
And I sat. Very still.
Mom knew she could call one more time without disqualifying us and she tried to make it a happier, more excited call, but I didn’t move a hair. The judge even tried to walk in back of me thinking I’d get up and run to mom.
But I didn’t. Nope. Nothing.
Here’s the deal. No treats, no worky. Mom shouldn’t expect me to work for free. I’m holding my skills as hostage until she gives me what I want. And what I want is treats!
So that, ladies and gentlemen, was that. We NQ’d which means we didn’t qualify. And the judge was sad and the crowd was sad, and mom’s friend who is helping to train me was sad.
But mom wasn’t sad. A little disappointed because we were this close, but not sad. Because I had done a lot right that day when I didn’t get freaked by loud noises and other dogs and lots of people going by me real close and stuff. I didn’t get tired of waiting, and I stayed engaged with her right up until we walked in the ring.
I’m happiest at home with my folks. Especially my dad.
Mom says she’s realy happy with all of that. And now she says we’re going to work on tightening up that heel and getting a reliable recall and then, whenever that is, we’re going to try again.
She says she loves me very much and she knows I did the best I could. But she also says I’m going to have to get over the not getting treats thing.
Cause, she says, that starts today.
You wouldn’t withhold cheese from this face, would you?
Uh oh.
Signing off for now, your home loving sheltie girl Penny who will probably ask you to overnight her some treats to a secret post office box very soon.
(PS: I don’t have any pictures of me in the ring, so these images are mostly from my walks this past week and of me hanging out at home. There’s a couple of me waiting with mom at the trial yesterday.)
Lately, not often, but once in awhile, I notice something in my periphery vision that looks like a person standing off in the distance. Down the road, across the lawn, far away. It’s just a moment, mostly a dark grey shadow, and when I look directly there’s nothing there. Once in awhile there’s a small tree or a mailbox but lots of times there’s nothing there at all.
I brought it up with my nurse practicioner at my annual physical and she asked me if I had told my ophthalmologist. I hadn’t but I had an appointment coming up, so I said I would. Today I sat in the chair with my eyes dialated and told him the story.
He started smiling and said he usually sees this in 90 year old people. And that it’s just my brain that sees something and fills in the rest to create, for a moment, something that makes sense. I had thought that was what was going on myself, so was relieved when he looked in my eyes and didn’t see anything to worry about.
But the whole experience reminded me of something that happened when I was processing photos from my night under the stars with a friend and her daughter. I processed one photo where the daughter’s phone was shining down near the bottom of the frame. I had been shooting the stars above her, but sometimes she ended up in the image.
On this particular photo, one of the first I worked on, I thought it was just her phone that was glowing. I used the ‘remove’ button in Lightroom to get rid of that glowing shape. I had never used that function before. I edited the rest of the image, knowing the whole bottom 1/3 of the picture was dark beach.
Turns out it was her face that was lit up, and when I erased her face I left the rest of her body intact. That is, if you read the instructions on how to use this button, a problem.
Witout knowing any of this I thought maybe I’d lighten up the dark beach just a touch and see how that looked beneath the Milky Way. And I got this:
Turns out I had only disappeared her face, and Lightroom, with it’s infinite AI wisdom knew there couldn’t be a person with no face, so it created one for me. If you look carefully you’ll see a guy sitting in a chair. The chair that was right there with us all night.
I actually thought for a couple minutes that some guy had joined us for the night of star gazing, even though I knew there was no guy there. And then I shared the new image with my friend and her daughter and they freaked out too.
No, no guy quietly came and sat in our chair. It’s just that AI completed the person I had left in the image. Just like my brain completes the image it thinks it sees out of the side of my eye.
No wonder it’s hard to know what the truth is anymore.
Mom gave me permission to write on her blog this time. She says she wasn’t even going to bring this up. And she doesn’t want to talk about it. So now it’s up to me.
You see mom and I have been working really, really hard on obedience. At first I tried my darndest to get her to be more obedient, but that wasn’t working, so I decided maybe I could get more treats if I tried to be more obedient myself.
A girl can grow intellectually even when she’s already full grown physically.
So anyway, mom and I have been practicing in my basement training room and out at a friend’s training barn. I like training a lot. When mom starts chopping up cheese I get all excited and run to the top of the basement stairs, ready to run down to my cheese training room as soon as mom turns the lights on down there.
Then mom and I went to a ‘fun’ run on Sunday, to see if what I am learning would translate to an obedience trial setting. Mom was pretty sure we’d do OK, maybe not perfect, but definitely OK.
Mom was wrong.
I didn’t like the noisy place with all the other dogs and when it was my turn I wanted to run somewhere safe, and I forgot how to heel and I certainly didn’t remember I was supposed to sit when mom stopped. Mom, for her part couldn’t read the signs right and was flustered with my inattention and tripped over her own feet.
And when it came to my recall, when I get to run to mom (I love running to mom) I decided it was safer if I just made myself as small as possible and sat very still. Very very still. On my behind. Not moving.
Even when mom moved closer and offered me cheese.
Mom says she was very discouraged and also worried about me because I was so scared and she felt bad for putting me into a scary situation.
But then!
The next day she took me to the groomer! What was she thinking. After that I got really mad at her and barked at her all the way home.
And then!
We went to my Rally class in my regular building last night and in between running rally courses mom took me to a back room and we heeled enthusiastically and I sat when she stopped and I did three different recalls almost perfectly.
So mom thinks I’m OK and not scared anymore. Which is good because the real obedience trial is this coming Saturday.
Mom says it’s very possible we will still NQ (Not qualify) but she says that’s OK as long as I’m not scared and get used to working in different places. She says this is not a sprint. She says it’s a marathon. I don’t even know what that means.
I’d like to remind mom that I’m still a puppy. (I’m going to milk that concept as long as possible!) And that I love her and daddy and I want to be a good girl. Sometimes I just need more time.
SO… please think about mom and me on Saturday afternoon!
PS: Pictures are stuff mom took of not me in my yard. Silly mom. I’m still the prettiest thing around.
Summer is flying by, and soon it will be September when the Truck Safety Coalition holds it annual fundraising dinner, and then it will be November when we ask our friends and family to donate through Giving Tuesday, and then it will be December when we make that last push to meet our funding goals.
Because I’m on TSC’s board I’m hyper aware of the need to fundraise, but before we get into this end of year cycle where I’m asking you for your support I just wanted to say thank you.
Thank you for the dollars you sent us at the end of 2024 when I was asking for support at our dinner. Thank you for going online when I was working the Giving Tuesday platform. Thank you for putting checks in the mail, directly to them or to me.
It feels just like yesterday that so many of you were actively engaged with my cause making it, at least for the moment, your cause too. It makes me feel less alone in the fight.
I don’t remember if I told you about our dinner last September. When I got up to speak I looked around at that crowded banquet room, at all the faces there. Crash survivors, victims’ families, TSC staff members, attorneys, other safety related non-profits, friends, Congressional staffers concerned about the issues, all these people were intermingled at the tables, and I thought….”We are not alone.”
And I said this out loud, I asked the victims’ families and survivors to look around. I told them our work is hard and sometimes it feels lonely, but look around at all these people here to support us. We are not alone. Our family members and our previous lives have not been forgotten.
And that’s how you make me feel too. So I wanted to say a simple thank you — without any ask attached.
A friend of mine made cards for me, using a photo of my parents and me taken a few decades ago. Who knew back then what I’d be working on now? I sent the cards to people I knew had donated last year, if I had an address. I would have sent them to all of you, but I know some of you wonderful people only online.
Think about how amazing that is.
You know me only online and still you support the cause that means so much to me…saving people’s lives, reducing truck crashes, supporting families, and spreading the word to be careful when you’re driving.
I know I’ll be back soon, asking for money to support our work. And once in awhile I’m sure I’ll be on my soapbox again. But for now, thank you all so much for listening and letting me ramble.
The deaths and injury numbers are going up, we can’t stop now.
Almost a week ago now we had clear skies, no moon, and moderate temperatures. It was all perfect for a Milky Way photo shoot. So a photographer friend and I along with her daughter took a run up to the thumb of Michigan to find somewhere to spend the night under the stars.
Best to know where you are.
There’s a special barn up there, and I’ve always thought it might make a good Milky Way foreground.
This barn is “in” the town of Pigion.
We checked it out, both sides. The owner of the barn must have a sense of humor.
Open to interpretation.
But physically it wasn’t really faced in the correct direction for a Milky Way shoot that night. Maybe earlier in the season when the Milky Way will be further to the east. I’m keeping it in mind So we headed up toward Port Austin, near the point of Michigan’s thumb. We found a little roadside park with a small sandy beach.
The last light illuminates the log resting on the beach.
We decided to watch the sunset from there and then decide what to do. While we were watching the sun a small flock of cedar waxwings showed up, sitting in the dead tree near us and then flying out to catch bugs. The light was low and they moved so fast it was hard to get a good image.
A cedar waxwing keeps watch for a tasty bug.
But they sure made me smile.
There seemed to be an unlimited source of very thin rocks, perfect for stone skipping. So my friend and her daughter skipped stones and I took pictures.
So fun!
It was so much fun.
Meanwhile the sun began to set. And, though we didn’t get a great sunset it was pretty enough for us.
A quiet sunset.
We went back to the car to get our real cameras and when we came out to the beach hundeds of lightening bugs rose from the beach grass. I tried so hard to get a picture of them, but it was hard.
See the yellow fireflies? Now multiply that by 100s.
Just imagine standing there with all these glowing lights flitting around you. It was magical.
And then it began to get dark and my friend told me there was an aurora alert and we should take a test shot to the north and see if anything was happening. And guess what.
A pink dome, supported by a green base with a couple pillars in for good measure.
There was!
So we spent a lot of time shooting the aurora. It wasn’t a spectacular show, but there was plenty of pink and green and light pillars.
Crazy beautiful.
Then we turned our cameras south to see if the dark horse was leaving the protection of the trees yet.
Hiding behind the trees.
It was still, unfortunately, partially behind the hill. We weren’t in a prime location for Milky Way, looking to the south it was behind the trees for much of the night. But the aurora made the site worthwhile.
The aurora was moving out further into the bay.
Across the way you can see retangles of golden light. I think, after studying a map, that must be Tawas, a large town on the other side of Saginaw Bay. I also wondered if there’s a bank of foggy mist out there.
We looked back to the south. The dark horse in the Milky Way was moving further out from behind the trees.
The dark horse is headed west.
So that’s how the night went. Shoot a little to the north, shoot a little to the south. There was something spectacular no matter where we looked.
It was hard to believe we’d gotten so lucky!
The whole night was so wonderful. Fireflies, aurora, Milky Way, stars, a slight breeze, warm temperatures, the lapping of a quiet lake. You can’t beat it. And I felt lucky that we were there.
Milky Way AND firefly!
We left the beach a little after 1 a.m. as the mist from the bay started to move over the Milky Way and the aurora had fadded.
Notice all the light pollution from Caseville.
We had a 2.5 hour drive back home. I smiled the whole way.
Nothing but stars and the tail end of the Milky Way overhead.
Change Is Hard 