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 can’t even believe I have to tattle on mama again. It’s not as if I haven’t discussed time management skills with her before. I even thought, these past couple of years, that she was finally getting the hang of paying attention to me and only me.
But she fell off the wagon yesterday.
Deuce and his little brother Ace on the shores of Lake Huron.
While I was home napping supervising my daddy she was off galivanting with other dogs. And worse, they were boy dogs! She can’t fool me, I might be old and deaf but my nose still works just fine!
I can’t believe it! Seriously, I am too old for these kinds of shenanigans. Mama should know better.
Ace is only 2, and he likes the water. Silly boy.
She says she thought about taking me but decided the drive would be too scary, what with how I shake when I have to go in the car these days. I told her that she’d shake too if the only place she ever got to go was the vet!
Deuce is 10 and smart, like me. We don’t like our feet getting damp.
So she said she was sorry, and she made me my supper and tickled my ears and tried to play lovey-dovey.
These guys will pose anywhere for a treat. I need to tell them about my one image, one treat clause.
But I told her there was only one way she could make it up to me, only one thing she could do to make me consider forgiving her this time.
Yep.
That’s how I got to go on a nice long walk with my mama in my park right after supper while the sun was setting.
You owed me mama, and you know it!
But shhhhhhh. Don’t tell mama, but I didn’t mind staying home all that much. I got lots of loving from my daddy and lots of naps and I didn’t miss a single meal either.
That was your one picture, mama, now lets get to walking.
What do you do when it’s a cold rainy day, when the rain never stops falling and everything seems to be grey and soggy? Well, you go out and take pictures! Of course.
So here’s the story of the tree branch…first noticed when I was taking Katie out on a walk up the street. I noticed the horizontal row of raindrops on the tree in our front yard. It looked interesting.
Hmmmmm, that could be interesting.
So when we got home I put her inside and grabbed the camera. Katie, of course, wanted to go back out too. Because if mama has her camera, surely Katie herself would be the subject. And there’s that one shot, one treat clause in her contract.
Silly girl.
Not quite what I was imagining.
I took her with me anyway, because she asked nicely, even though I knew it would be harder to capture those raindrops with her. And it was. Cars going by, sniffing, tugging on her leash, all of it caused me to stop doing what I was doing. Which was trying to focus on the drops of water.
I eventually just put her leash under my foot.
Still an especially noisy truck was coming, and I had to stop once again and pick her up, she squirming, me grumbling under my breath. Especially when I slipped in some poo that somehow I had missed while cleaning up the yard earlier in the day.
Yep, it wasn’t easy. But this is what I was looking for.
Our world, captured upside down in each drop.
For me, it was worth the soggy coat, soggy dog, poo on the shoe and cold rain down my neck. But I’m sure hoping for sunshine tomorrow.
I was participating in a group of truck crash families and survivors a few weeks ago and one of the topics that came up was foggy brain. Many of those in the group that day were brand new to the reality of coping with life after a traumatic event.
A local park, early this foggy morning.
A discussion about living in a never ending nightmare morphed into a discussion about foggy brains. How hard it was to concentrate. How the memory wasn’t as sharp as it once was.
I didn’t bring it up in the meeting, not to discourage any of the new families, but my dad died in a crash caused by a sleepy semi driver more than seventeen years ago, and my brain is more foggy today than it was way back then.
A sentinel stands strong in the fog.
On the other hand, I doubt my fog is related to Dad’s death. It might be menopause. It might be covid. It might be something else, still to be diagnosed.
Whatever it is, it’s tiring. I know from months, maybe years, of experience that I can’t remember anything that I don’t write down. And that often, if too much time goes by, I won’t know what I meant by the scribbles I find on random pieces of paper.
Trying to pick out the clarity amidst the fog.
I have never been able to remember people’s names. Now I can’t remember conversations, or finishing tasks, or whether or not I took the clothes out of the dryer.
For several days this week I couldn’t find the remote that moves our adjustable bed until it was found, out in the living room, on a table next to the sofa. I am constantly looking for my phone. And my shoes.
Sometimes it’s so hard to see.
More scary, I don’t always understand what people are saying. Not just the concept, but the actual words. Sometimes it all sounds like noise, with only an occasional word I recognize. Other times there are words but their combination doesn’t make sense to me. Lots of times, after the fact, I’ll figure it out, and usually it’s just words that sound like other words confusing me. Ah, I think, that’s what they meant.
Trying to focus.
Most of the time my confusion happens while watching tv, often while doing something else, and not concentrating on one thing or the other, and, as it turns out, not hearing with context.
But other times it happens when people are speaking live and I try to slow my brain down and concentrate. That often works, but sometimes I have to ask questions, where I risk appearing dense. Other times I just let it go. Pick your battles, that’s my rule.
Foggy brain. Is it age, life experiences, past traumatic events, illness, stress, or just a lack of concentration? I don’t know, but I’m beginning wondering if the drugs they’re peddling on television to forgetful seniors really work.
Walking through the fog.
And I’m wondering when I turned into a senior anyway. Looking back, it’s all turning into a foggy blur.
I’ve been taking a series of free online classes about night photography. Of course the instructor believes we should all be shooting in RAW. It’s not the first time I’ve heard this.
At Katie’s park on a pretty day in March.
Many years ago I took another night photography seminar, where RAW was suggested as well, mostly because you can change the white balance when you’re processing if you shoot in RAW.
“No snow, mama, but still lots of ice!
What does it mean to shoot in RAW? Well, it just means the image you are getting hasn’t been processed at all. There’s more data in the image and it’s all unmodified.
The blackbirds were singing, so it must be spring.
I’ve been shooting JPeg, because, for some reason, RAW made me nervous. Years ago I did a few test shots in RAW, but my processing software wouldn’t allow me to download them. So I haven’t tried again.
“Kinda windy out here, mama!”
But lots of time and software has passed since then, and I figured I should try again. So I took Katie to her park yesterday; in 50 degree (10C) with a stiff breeze, she was in heaven.
“I’m having a good hair day!”
It has been a long time since we visited her park, and, as I remember it, a blizzard was bearing down and it was so very cold that we didn’t stay long at all.
“I love my park!”
Yesterday she pranced like a puppy, tail wagging, nose to the ground looking for all the pee-mail left by other doggies just for her.
“Hey mama, the smells are just wonderful over here!”
I took a few pictures, in RAW, just to see how they came out. To be honest, I can’t tell the difference, but I’ll keep shooting in RAW until I figure out why it’s better.
“It’s so good to be out here, mama!”
Katie says she’ll gladly model for me again. As long as I bring treats.
Ah yes. I went out to Kensington nearly a week ago to see if there were red-winged blackbirds singing there. I had one lone male visiting my feeder at home, but I hadn’t heard the early blackbird chorus that announces spring every year here in Southeast Michigan.
Not a blackbird.
But I got distracted, first by the turkeys and then by the redheaded woodpecker. Still….were there red-winged blackbirds here in Michigan, aside from the lonely guy at my feeder?
Can’t get over this guy.
I could hear a few, down another icy trail, and I hoped I didn’t have to go too far to gather proof. They were mostly far away, hiding in the cattails. They weren’t making much noise, and seemed a bit shy, or maybe they were just shell-shocked by the freezing temperatures and snow.
“I’m hungry, but I don’t know if I can trust that lady over there.”
One was walking up the path ahead of me. I thought maybe if I put some peanuts and oilers out I could coax him up into a more photogenic location.
“HEY! Hurry up you guys, she left us SNACKS!”
The longer I stood there the more blackbirds I saw, though none were brave enough to come get the treats I put out.
I’d appreciate a snack too, lady. My feet are cold.
Eventually they came closer, and ate some treats that I tossed near them. They even sang a little, but I know that later in the season they’ll be much happier to see me, once they figure out that the people visiting generally have food for them.
“If I don’t look at you, you’re not there. Right?”
So yes, spring has officially sprung in Southeast Michigan. The red-winged blackbirds are here, let the snow begin to melt!
My purpose, this past Monday, in going out to my favorite park was to see if the red-winged blackbird was back here in southeastern Michigan. I had one visiting my backyard feeder, but I hadn’t heard him or any others singing, my true harbinger of spring.
Everybody’s in a hurry. Why not stop and just enjoy a spot of sunlight?
I knew if they were anywhere, they’d be at Kensington which has large marshy areas and more importantly, people with food for the birds.
Hey lady! I’ll pose for peanuts!
When I arrived I drove past the heron rookery in case the eagle happened to be there, and since he (or she?) was not, I didn’t bother to walk over there after I parked. Instead I considered which trail might be most effective for finding the blackbirds.
I’ll keep watch for you lady! My fee is mere peanuts!
And then I remembered that I have been seeing beautiful images of the illusive (to me anyway) red headed woodpecker taken at this park. And I knew, from those pictures, what area of the trail system he had usually been seen.
I don’t see any red birds over this way. Do you happen to have any peanuts?
So I decided to go check that out before more people showed up. I had only seen one other car in the lot, and I didn’t want a lot of people clomping around scaring off my birds! And speaking of clomping, I was wearing my Yax grippers, and let me tell you, wearing those on ice makes it impossible to sneak up on anything!
The trails were covered in ice, no problem for the big guy.
I arrived at the location I thought I’d find the red headed and there wasn’t a bird to be seen. Nothing. Not a sparrow or a mourning dove. Not a starling or a cardinal. No hawk, no crow. No bird sounds. I stood there a long time. Then I sighed and walked off down the trail, head down, dragging my heavy camera in defeat.
Guy with really big camera charges off into the woods and missed the big show.
And then I heard the little squeak of a nuthatch. He was poking his head up over a slightly hollow stump. Someone had left some millet in the stump and he was poking around eating what he could find
Hey! Don’t suppose you have a peanut for me?
He was adorable. And then there was a second set of squeaking, and I saw a second nuthatch on a nearby tree. Beautiful.
If there are peanuts, I’m in!
I walked over to their stump and put a few peanuts in there, as sort of a reward for posing so nice for me, and then I backed up and waited. Soon enough they were both running around on their stump, and my camera was following them.
She didn’t put very many in here, we better get our share!
And then I heard a bigger squawk. OMG, look what came in for a peanut!
I have arrived!
Well, look at both of them, the red headed and a male downy woodpecker, tucked in lower on the right side of the stump. I could hardly breath as I was shooting.
The little male downy wasn’t sure he was invited.
And even when the red headed flew up into the tree he didn’t go far.
Getting a snack to take up into the trees.
He kept posing for me, up and over branches, in and out of the sun. My arms ached from holding the big heavy lens up toward the sky.
I loved the tree limbs in this one.
But I couldn’t stop smiling.
He looks small here, like a hummingbird, but he’s definitely a good sized woodpecker!
I clicked away until I finally gave up. He wasn’t moving, and I had no idea if I had anything worthwhile.
I’m watching you lady!
Still smiling, I walked away. After all, I had to go find my blackbirds!
Don’t forget about me, lady! I won’t be around here much longer!
A couple weeks back Debbie, of ND Domer’s Mom said, in a comment on my post about snowy owls or barns, that she wouldn’t mind seeing a turkey, and I assured her I’d run across a turkey sooner or later.
Hey lady! It’s early and we’re not camera ready yet! Well, except for Ralph over there, he’s a camera hog.
Well, yesterday turned out to be the day.
And in the early morning light they were beautiful.
Showing off my colors while looking for breakfast.
In a weird sort of way.
A face only a mother could love.
And though they were not the reason I was in their park, they turned out to be a feature of the icy walk.
I’m ready for my photo shoot now.
Why was I there? Well, I was trying to confirm whether red winged blackbirds were indeed back, that my loan male visiting my deck wasn’t an anomaly.
Earlier this week I decided to visit Chippewa Nature Center up in Midland. That’s about a two hour drive for me, but I kept seeing beautiful photos on a Facebook group of birds and animals that were taken there, and I’d never been. So, since I had one day free and the weather wasn’t too horrible, I decided to buzz up there and see what I could see.
I almost didn’t put tights on under my jeans before I left, and I’m so glad I did because it was much colder up there and the wind was blowing. Great. Once I arrived I studied the map at the parking lot trying to figure out where the trailhead was. It wasn’t very clear, so I wandered a bit and ended up on a paved path designed for preschoolers. The little trail looped around a school. This was the only picture I took.
Preschoolers dressed for winter fun.
Then I went and figured out where the adult trails were, but they were covered in ice and even though I had my Yax grippers with me I didn’t think it looked very fun to creep along the ice on a trail that I had never been on before. Alone.
So I decided to come back another day, after things thawed out a bit. But because I was very near the Midland Park where I had once seen eagles, I stopped by on my way home. No eagles were flying, but I did see two eagles on their nest. Unfortunately the nest isn’t anywhere close to parking, so no pictures. But still cool.
And then, on the way home, having taken only one picture (unheard of for me!) I decided since I was driving right past, I’d stop at the Shiawassee National Wildlife Refuge, a favorite place of mine. I was hoping I would find eagles on the nest I’d seen last time I was there.
On the road out to the refuge I had to stop to shoot this barn. I’ve loved it before, but it was especially pretty with the light that morning.
It’s the tree that makes this barn beautiful.
And this one, too, a little further down the road. Now, even if I saw nothing else, I’d at least have shot three things on this adventure. Some kids and a couple barns.
I’m a sucker for a barn and a row of trees.
There was no one at the refuge when I got there. I was arriving later in the day than normal, but I was still hoping to see those eagles…
So far so good, easy walking and no ice!
…until I got to the T in the trail and to the right, the way I needed to go, looked like this.
That’s a bench up there on the left, but I’m not going to sit on it.
Hmmmm…I could put on the cleats. But still, I was alone out there — if I fell it would be a long time before someone came to help. It didnt seem worth the risk.
Turning left there was a ‘nature viewing’ shack. I’d never investigated it before, and the trail was clear that way so I figured why not.
What’s that back there?
This is the view. Uninspiring.
Well, the trees are nice…
I took the heavy long lens off the camera and put my regular lens back on and decided I’d just go for artsy fartsy pictures on the mile long walk back to the car. So that’s what you’r going to get for the rest of this post. I don’t imagine you’ll mind too much.
There was some beaver damage on downed trees. Not really artsy fartsy, but interesting.
Those beaver have some big teeth!
And a huge tree limb that had fallen across the trail with beautiful insect tracks.
Reminded me of petroglyphs somehow.
I originally thought it was a limb from an ash tree because of the bug trails…but the tree this limb fell from looked like a hickory tree, so I don’t know what caused the damage. I spent a long time taking pictures of the naked limbs with the beautiful but sad markings.
These marks aren’t the same as what I’ve seen made by the ash beetle.
And closer to the car the ice, as long as I wasn’t walking on it, was beautiful too.
In a black and white winter world there was still plenty of color.
Even a bit of frozen grass could be seen as art.
I thought the colors were a perfect representation of winter in Michigan.
And fungus on a stick was certainly beautiful too.
Up close, the better to appreciate the wonder of it.
Back at the parking lot I shot the farm that was way off across a field, and that was the end of the photographic adventure for the day.
One last farm.
Oh! I did see a couple cardinals. Not that I can’t see those at home, but still…it was wildlife.
Hey Lady! I’m right here!
The grand total was some kids, some ice, some dead tree limbs and a bird or two. Not what I went looking for. But it was still fun. I got out of the house, in the fresh (cold) air with my camera. You can’t always choose what you get to shoot, but you can always turn it into something worthwhile.
Change Is Hard 