Some birds get all the attention. You know the ones. They’ve got beautiful bright feathers and they like to show off.
Afternoon light at the heated birdbath.
But I’ve been watching Mrs. Cardinal as she frequents my birdfeeders. Her subtle coloring is as beautiful as the flashy feathers of her mate. She’s a quiet beauty.
She attempts to hide during the early morning sunrise.
For the past couple of days there have been several female cardinals at the feeders, in the branches of the protective honeysuckle bush, and hiding among the last leaves of the beech tree.
Finding a safe place during our first real snowfall.
I notice how beautiful she is glowing in the light. whether it’s the early morning slanted sunrise or during an afternoon snow storm. She’s modest, though, and won’t sit and pose for long.
Too much attention and she’ll head for quieter places.
You have to be satisfied with her brief appearances and wait, hopefull, for your next glimpse.
I noticed Mr. Cardinal watching her too. He seemed as smitten as me.
This morning as I’ve been fixing the big dinner I’ve been watching my birds out the window and my Penny-girl napping inside and feeling grateful that I’m in my warm house looking out at a windy cold yard. It’s 32F here (0 C) and it feels, because of the wind, like 19F (-7.22C).
Nom, nom, nom.
I know the birds watch me as I fill the feeders every morning. Every day, before I’m back in the house they’re usually fluttering around picking at their favorite spot. This morning I somehow missed the goldfinch feeder and as I was walking to the shower later I noticed a big bunch of them all huddled around the very bottom of their feeder.
That’s all the seed there was left, just a bit at the very bottom.
I thought about going out and filling it after my shower. But they were hungry now. So I ran out without a coat and hurridely filled their feeder with thistle. Then I went inside to watch. No finches. I waited some more. One finch dropped down onto the beech tree, contemplated the feeder swaying in the wind.
“Come on little guy,” I murmered, “it’s right there for you, all fresh and nice.” He waivered and clung to his branch. “Come on sweetie, I whispered.” He tentatively flew to the top of the hook and looked around. Then he hopped down to the feeder and began to greedly eat. Suddenly finches came from all over, and swarmed the feeder.
I smiled.
Happy Thanksgiving little ones. Happy Thanksgiving.
And happy Thanksgiving to all of you. We hope you have a wonderful, warm and belly-filling day. Penny added that last bit about the belly. She has her priorities.
You probably saw on the news that there was a very large solar event this week. Tuesday night was supposed to be stunning, with the kind of aurora lights we saw a couple years ago. Of course Tuesday night I was in band and when I got home our skies were cloud covered.
I went to bed disappointed.
In the beginning there was just the faint pink and green.
Wednesday night the weather folks and those forecasting the aurora said it wouldn’t be as spectacular as Tuesday had been, but we had a good chance of seeing the lights. And this time the skies over my head were mostly clear!
And then a pillar showed up.
The aurora last night was fickle. I watched the numbers, and went outside numerous times, once it was dark, to check using my phone to take sample images, thinking maybe, just maybe there was a bit of a pink tinge to the northern sky.
The lights faded. Maybe that was it?
Eventually the numbers got better and I dragged my camera, tripod and a chair out to my backyard. I had considered driving somewhere that would provide me a clearer view of the horizon, but lots of stuff kept me home.
But almost right away another pillar of light sprang up.
I figured if I saw it, I saw it and if I didn’t, well, I’d see a lot of images online in the morning.
And then more pillars with more intense color.
Sitting in my own backyard took a lot of the stress out of finding a place with a clear view, worrying about other people, cars with headlights, or huffing deer.
The color began to dance.
It was actually pretty comfortable, even relaxing, out there. So comfortable I didn’t spend enough time focusing on the stars, so they’re not the pinpricks they’re supposed to be. And of course the trees, that were quite close to me, are out of focus. You can’t focus on both the stars and the trees!
Imagine what it looks like from that plane.
But the color, oh the color, was wonderful … if only for a few minutes. I think I spent 30 or 40 minutes out there before the color faded and the clouds blew in around 10 p.m. This morning I read that the lights came back out later in the night, but I was long asleep by then.
And then the light began to fade again.
I don’t have the most wonderous images. I didn’t have a view of the horizon so I couldn’t see much of the green dome below the red lights. My stars aren’t in focus. There’s no great foreground.
Clouds overtake the last of the pink light.
But for almost an hour I sat in the comfort of my yard, staring at the sky and smiling. If I hadn’t taken even one image I’d still have been happy that I went out into the night searching for Lady Aurora.
TIme to hang it up.
I hope some or all of you got a glimpse too. If not….squint at these images and imagine being out under the stars. I’m willing to share.
Using my phone, handheld.
One of the cool things about an event like this is that I know so many people are out there staring up at the sky too. We’re all looking at the same big sky, and for one or two nights the rest of the crazy world falls away. I never feel alone when I’m out under the stars and I usually don’t even feel the cold until I’m back inside. It’s an amazing experience.
Another phone shot testing the skies. It was there!
All these images are pretty much the way they came out of the camera (or phone). I cropped a few, tried to clean up the fuzziness of a couple others. But mostly they’re the way they looked in the camera. You couldn’t see any of this with your naked eye.
If you ever get the opportunity, go out and watch the aurora. Take your phone or camera with you, it probably will be the only way you’ll see it. But it’s worth the adventure.
This weekend, I guess that means yesterday, I was busy taking pictures of my backyard birds as they bounced around in the beech tree near our feeders.
This is a very polular location. You have to wait in line to get the best stuff.
I loved the colors, the tree still hanging onto her leaves even though we are well into November now.
Sometimes the little bird feeder is especially busy and the wait is long.
It wasn’t warm outside, not like it had been through most of October, but it was still a nice, if slightly dreary, day.
I was shooting the goldfinch, but look who dropped in below.(White-striped sparrow)
I spent some of the day on Saturday painting Christmas cards to be sent to folks in nursing homes. Nothing too complicated, just simple cards painted in the hope they made someone smile.
The ten.
The goal was to get 10 painted over the weekend and mailed on Monday. Christmas comes so early when you have to get your stuff off to folks who have to do their thing to get the cards to seniors in a timely manner.
Folded, I’ll write a little note inside each of them and then send them off to the card coordinator on Monday.
I haven’t felt very Christmas-y this fall. I procrastinated on painting the cards until it was almost too late. I thought maybe I’d skip the whole Christmas card thing this time.
People ignore us little brown birds all the time too.
I haven’t put the lights up outside either. I usually put lights on one tree, the smallest of the spruce trees we planted so many years ago, at the corner of our lot.
This chunky little woodpecker had a hard time fitting through the feeder cage.
I use the smallest tree so that I can get lights clear up to the top if I stand on a ladder and use a long pole. It’s a lot of work and I don’t know if I’m up to it anymore.
But eventually he got his lunch. Might want to consider a smaller portion than usual though.
Still, the neighbors tell me how much they enjoy that tree when it’s lit on our dark winter nights. I enjoy it too. Somehow it makes the winter go by a little faster, or at least be a little brighter. So maybe I’ll get the lights up the next nice day we have around here.
Probably not today though. This morning I woke to our first snow of the season. Penny is not at all sure she was good with this new development.
Hey lady! I’d like a berry special please. Pronto!
But I am happy to see the trees and shrubs begin to be covered by this new white blanket. Pen and I might even go out and play in it when I finish this post.
The cardinal was unflappable by the robin’s flight.
Some of the birds are not as happy as I am to see the change in weather. But the snow makes me think that maybe I can put the lights up. Maybe I can paint a few cards for the season. Maybe I can get into the Christmas mood.
A festive red and green image in my own back yard.
Maybe I can.
You know you’re in Michigan when one day you’re working in the garden and the next you’re laughing over bird antics in the snow.
I was collecting seeds from my zinnias this week, cutting spent heads, tossing them into a paper bag to dry. Slowly processing the loss of summer. Preparing for our long winter.
And then a bit of light, there at my feet, caught my eye.
The nasturium leaves, round and beautiful on their own even before the orange and yellow blossoms peek out, were glowing in the last of the day’s sun.
I stood still and thought how much I wanted to hold onto this moment, this bit of sunlight, these bright colors. How I wanted time to slow down even as, for me, it’s moving faster and faster.
I stood there watching the light on the leaves and blossoms for a few moments and then I did what every photographer does. I ran to the house for a camera.
And that’s why I take so many photographs. It’s to slow time, to help remember the thoughts and feelings of a specific moment. So that later on, when winter is getting old and we haven’t seen the sun in days, I can look at this image and remember the heat on my shoulders and the warmth in my soul.
While I was cat sitting in northern Michigan I considered where to take you on the annual Walktober. I didn’t want to waste the fact that I was in northern Michigan, and you can’t get a better location for a Walktober than that.
Lake Michigan was pulling at me to take you on a beach walk. But many years ago I did exactly that, and if I can find it I’ll add the link to that post here. (You really should go look at it, it was an entirely different sort of day!)
I didn’t want to repeat myself. You might be bored with another walk along the same beach.
Of course back than I and the friend who lives here had wandered north. I could always take you south this year. As I stared at the lake on a warm Saturay morning that seemed like the perfect solution.
Until I got down to the dune above the lake.
A wedding was happening just to the south of me. Sure, I could walk past it. I mean people were actually swimming at the public beach right there. But I didn’t want to infringe on their moment. So I turned north.
After all, that last beachy Walktober was a long time ago. And every beach walk is different, right?
So off I went toward that point just up the way a bit.
I was immediately drawn to a footprint in the damp sand. I thought about how transient our footsteps are. How fleeting our whole lives are.
The waves were already lapping at the footprint, ready to erase it forever. I spent a long time photographing that footprint, wondering who had been there just before me.
There were plenty of other pretty things to photograph along the way. It must have rained the night before, or maybe even just before I left the house.
There were soft little sandy divots everywhere. It looked and felt something like a moon landscape.
It was a beautiful day, the sun was out, the cloudless sky was a deep blue. And on the beach were other signs of beings who had gotten outside to enjoy the day long before I had.
I wondered what kind of little animal had scurried across the beach that morning. And then I wondered what made it decide to go in a different direction.
I kept going straight, along the shore, noticing the way the light bounced off the water…
…and off a railing creating modern art on the beach.
Resting kayaks were waiting for another trip out on the lake this season, and I imagined them glad of the warm fall day, just like I was.
Chairs were waiting patiently for their people to rest and watch another sunset.
But mostly I was watching the water and the sand in front of me as I approached my destination, the point.
The lapping waves, sliding over the sand was making the most beautiful art.
And it had left behind sadly beautiful artifacts too.
And of course there were those footprints, always a step ahead of me, combining with the sand art, moving steadily forward.
As in life, once you reach your destination point you always see another point in the distance. Maybe instead of turning around I should head toward that new point, way up there.
There was bound to be more to see.
But as I got closer to that far away point I noticed someone playing with her dog.
And I thought maybe it was best to leave them be, just as I had let the wedding be. Bookmarked by a dog’s play and a wedding day, I was happy with what I had seen on my Walktober. I hope you enjoyed it too.
Oh…and the footprints… those I had been following on my slow walk north?
The owner of the prints came back toward me and we exchanged pleasantries about what a beautiful day it was and then she continued on her walk heading south toward home.
And I did the same.
There’s still time for you to get a walk in, post about it and link it to the Official Walktober post. I’ll gather them all up and do a recap post in early November. We can’t wait to see where you’ve been!
I spent a week at the beginning of October in Northport Michigan. It was an idyllic week, filled with brilliant blue skies, warm temperatures, aqua water and cats.
On the way, this was the most color I saw all week.
I was there to hang out with a couple of mischievous cats that belong to friends of mine who were taking some time to travel. They were off having fun and I was having fun in their space and with their cats.
A moment of peace before the crazy.
The cats, a boy and a girl, were adorable and I have more pictures of them than the beautiful place I was living.
You’re not looking at me…are you?
I can tell you that cats are as hard to photograph as birds. You see a great image, grab your phone and by then they have moved. Multiple times.
Don’t bother me, I’m hunting.
The best and easiest time to photograph cats is when they’re asleep.
Snoring next to my buddy.
Which, if I’m honest, they did almost as much as they caused mischief.
I like to match my backdrop.
Aside from the cats I also got to enjoy the beautiful area.
Though I didn’t go on long nature walks this trip, I did wander around the village of Northport, looking for color.
Above the road on the way into downtown.
After all, this could be my Walktober, showing you the cute little town of Northport is, right?
Color, color everywhere.
There were plenty of flowers still blooming. I was particularly smitten with these California poppies, blooming away on a corner.
Hanging on into fall.
And the asters were beautiful as well. Purple and pink, blooming in front of storefronts.
Seasonal color.
Though the downtown itself is only a few blocks long I found plenty of interesting stuff to photograph.
Unsure why a skunk, but he demanded to be photographed.
It’s a tiny town, but it’s also a close knit community.
If I liked beer I would have stopped in.
I think it’s probably a town where everybody pretty much knows everybody else. I didn’t talk to anyone during my visit, I just wandered and took pictures.
Not open the day I was wandering or I definitely would have stopped in.
It was so warm it felt like a lovely summer afternoon. There were lots of people out and about, waiting in line for pizza, sitting at outdoor dining areas of restaurants.
Come sit for a minute and enjoy the October sun.
While I got images of most of the village, I know that I missed at least an entire block, as well as the marina. Of course that just gives me an excuse to go back up for another visit soon!
Come on up and sit for awhile!
I hope you enjoyed our short walk through Northport.
When I left, very early on a Tuesday morning (in order to get home in time to attend band rehearsal) it was still dark.
I was taken by the glowing orbs in the trees as I entered town.
I loved the reflections in the puddle.
And then I walked around the darkened streets and caught a few more images of Northport asleep.
Resting before the next round of customers.
I liked doing that as much as I had enjoyed my daylight walk.
Only the witch, the full moon and I were out and about that morning.
I hope you did too.
So..was this my Walktober? I don’t know. There’s another one to show you, but I don’t have the photos ready to go yet. We’ll see.
Meanwhile you still have a couple weeks to do your very own Walktober. Take a walk, a drive, a ride, a hop, skip or jog. Take a photo or two or three, write a post and link it to the official Walktober post (see link above) and I’ll put them all together in one place in early November.
Change Is Hard 