Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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Foggy

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.


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Raw Katie-girl

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.

“Can we come back tomorrow, mama?”


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But what about the blackbird?

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!

“Gotta get fluffed up and pretty for spring!”


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Did you say you wanted to see a turkey?

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.

What did I find?

Guess you’ll have to wait and see.

What? Am I too early for spring?


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Tantalizing

It’s possible that spring is closer than the snow on the ground foreshadows.

Trying out my summer look.

This little goldfinch was on my railing a couple days ago, sporting his fresh yellow feather patch. You might even think he was showing off.

And coincidently I sent this little goldfinch to a friend that same day.

Flying off to say HI to someone far far away.

Maybe it doesn’t mean anything, but I like to think spring is here. Of course I think that every year about now.

But then on the 25th this guy showed up. I was so shocked I couldn’t focus the camera.

Definite proof, even if he is the only one so far.

Ah huh. This year, for sure, spring is here early.

Yep. No question about it.


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A long drive for a little walk

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.

Guaranteed.


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Owl….no barn…no owl…hunt

Sunday morning, in preparation for the Super Bowl, I left home with my camera.

Multiple barns make for an efficient shot.

OK. So maybe it didn’t have anything to do with the Super Bowl, maybe it was just me wanting to get out of the house for a little bit. With a camera and nowhere specific to go.

Artsy-fartsy sun on pole. No owl.

A friend had told me about a snowy owl that she’s seen a few times over near Katie’s vet. Lots of open fields and telephone poles out that way so I figured maybe I would finally see a snowy owl if I headed in that direction.

So I did.

Barn with multiple additions.

And I might have seen one. Something kind of large flew directly over the car, while I was still on the freeway. I only caught a glimpse of the underside, the same color as the light grey sky, it blended into the nothingness above me and then disappeared. It might have been a hawk. But it felt more round than a hawk in flight would be.

Starting to snow again.

Anyway, when I got to the town nearest the vet I entered a pretty heavy snow squall. It was hard to see anything, and I was trying to figure out if I should just turn around and go home. How in the world would I see a white owl in a blizzard?

Hard to see a white barn in a blizzard too.

I crept along, passed Katie’s vet and turned south on the next big road, looking for the small rural road she said the owl had been seen on. It seemed sort of far, and figuring I had missed it, I stopped looking at the street signs just about the time I passed the road.

Darn it all.

But sometimes it was sunny.

So I drove on to the next road and a place to turn around. But what was that over there? A very nice barn? Well, might be I should just go over there first and then go back and find that owl road.

White barn, white fence, white snow.

And up there at the next, quite far away, corner, well that looks like a good barn too. And wait, over there, I need to see what’s over there for sure. Good thing the snow let up.

White on white.

And that’s how it went. On my way back to the road that might or might not have an owl I kept finding more barns. And the snow came and went.

Still pretty.

Sometimes on the left would be sunshine and blue sky while on the right a blizzard raged.

Another version of red, white and blue.

I eventually did wander down the road I had originally intended to explore. Never did see an owl of any color. Saw a couple turkeys cross the road, but they didn’t want their pictures taken.

Such a pretty farm.

And then I turned a corner and saw the sweetest little barn with a dormer. Something niggled at me and then I remembered. I’d been by this exact barn about a month ago. I had no idea where I was by then, but I knew if I was repeating barns it was time to head for home.

Why do you look so familiar?

I have to say this adventure was mostly a barn hunt on which I might have seen a snowy owl float overhead for a moment. In fact I think I’ll just say that’s what it was.

Yep. I saw a snowy owl on Sunday, and I got home in time to watch the game too.

Last year’s corn, this year’s snow.

Win/win