Momma

    Momma. There's nothing quite like that word, is there? Whether you are thinking of your own momma or you are hearing your child call your name, the word causes your emotions to run strong.

    The first night I began to write this blog I searched high and low for words to express the love between mother and child. Just as I began to believe it was hopeless I came across a news story about a woman who refused cancer treatment in order to spare her baby's life.

    In March of this year Stacie Crimm discovered that she was pregnant. She was overjoyed because she had been told that she would never have a child. Four months later Stacie was diagnosed with cancer. She decided against chemotherapy because she was afraid it would hurt the baby. In August, as Stacie lapsed in and out of consciousness her two pound baby girl was delivered by C-section. She was able to hold her daughter only once before she died. For the full story you can click here. 

    Stacie's actions express a mother's love better than any words I can summon. The only thing I have to add is that Grandma will be a pretty cool word to hear too. I'm sorry that Stacie will not get to hear it.

Boxing

    Don't waste your money on toys for Grand Baby. He often is unimpressed by common baby toys. He prefers to entertain himself with things he finds around the house. 

Here he contemplates where next to look for entertainment.

  A cardboard box! What could be inside?

    A shiny red cup makes a good toy.

You know that feeling that you're being watched?

Cats like boxes too.

Bath Tub Baby

"Childhood is the world of miracle and wonder; as if creation rose, bathed in the light, out of the darkness, utterly new and fresh and astonishing."

Eugene Ionesco

    Grand Baby came to visit tonight. The whirlpool tub was filled at a cozy temperature.  He splashed and played in the fragrances of flowers and dew. Afterward he was gently dried in towels as soft as a butterfly's wing. Eventually he was dressed in warm clothing, carried safely home and placed gently in his bed.

    Sweet dreams, Baby.

The Shotgun Versus the Binoculars

"I consider myself to have been the bridge between the shotgun and the binoculars in bird watching. Before I came along, the primary way to observe birds was to shoot them and stuff them."

Roger Tory Peterson

    "Look at the photo I got today!" I practically shouted. I put this close-up on the big screen of our desktop for Honey Bunny, certain that he would be impressed at my skills as a nature photographer.

    The phone rang just then. It was Lovely Daughter. I couldn't get any verbal feedback from Honey about the photo so I glanced over at him. He was definitely not giving me a thumbs up. When my telephone conversation ended I got an earful.

    "You should have killed it! You are going to get hurt doing such things!" H.B. never shouts. But he was uncharacteristically loud. Very stern. I was disappointed. My most stalwart supporter was definitely in unsupportive mode.  

    This is a Redbelly Watersnake. She is not poisonous, but if I had crowded her too much she would have bitten me and sprayed me with a skunk like musk for me to bring home to my dog for sniffing. However, since I was using a telephoto lens I was never very close. My biggest concern was that she would retreat into her hollow log and I would not be able to take her portrait. Try telling this to Honey Bunny.

    While surfing for snakes on the internet I learned a fun fact. The Brown Watersnake, a relative of the the Redbellly, feeds on catfish and is sometimes observed with the bones of catfish sticking out of its body walls. The bones will fall out over time and no harm is done to the snake. 

    If you are interested in snakes Davidson College has a great herpetology web site. Just don't tell your Honey Bunny if you see one outdoors!

Mountain Man Scramble

   

   The morning of our last day in camp we had Mountain Man Scramble for breakfast. This appears to be a recipe designed to avoid waste. As such it includes all the leftovers from five days of camping. George prepared an excellent meal that combined sausage, bacon, roast pork, cheese, eggs, mushrooms, green peppers, and onions. When served with a hot cup of Cowboy Coffee on a cool morning outdoors it is an unbeatable meal.

    This will be my last blog about my trip to Montana so I am going to serve up a Mountain Man Scramble of photos.

   

    If you make the drive 10,000 feet up to Sawtelle Peak you can see this FAA equipment.

    I thought it just cried out to be painted to resemble a soccer ball. But since the FAA is not known for humor it will never look like this.

   

    One afternoon the wranglers saddled up and rode the horses so that we could get some action photos.

    Keith splashed across the stream for us. Some of you may notice he is using a bit-less bridle.

    Even though it was his day off one of the mules insisted on joining us.

    Craig packs a manny so that our equipment can be loaded onto mules. This is hard work as each manny  weighs as much as 100 lbs. He has to wrap them snugly with rope, and tying the knots is an art.

Leaving our first camp.

Pack mules, like people, have personalities. This one is reluctant.

This one, mischievous.

Mule Deer on Main St,  Ennis, Montana

    This photo was taken in Nevada City. While there is a Zang's Beer brewed in Colorado, I suspect this building was not native to the ghost town. It was probably used in one of the many movies filmed there.  Little Big Man, Lonesome Dove, Missouri Breaks, and Thousand Pieces of Gold were all filmed in Nevada City.

     TheNevada City Music Hall houses the largest public collection of automated music machines in North America. Many are in working order. They are decorated with ornate carvings. Some are beautiful.

   

Some are just plain creepy.

    I almost forgot that the same thing that makes a good HDR photo also makes a good black and white photo. This shot originally perplexed me because the fence in the foreground was new and it clashed with the old train. I wanted to keep the photo because I loved the landscape in the background. Thank goodness I finally remembered to convert to black and white. With the color removed the fence is not so jarring to the senses.

One more black and white from the ghost town.

Ending with a bit of humor and a nod to the Talking Heads.

"You may ask yourself, 'How do I work this?'"

    I hope you will save the address to my blog so you can visit again. Next time you can see the photo that had the unusual effect of making Honey Bunny raise his voice to me :(

    And remember, if you click on any of the photos they should "grow" to full screen for you.

We Interrupt This Program

    This photo was so much fun to take that I am interrupting the string of Montana blogs to show it to you.
    Honey Bunny was in the kitchen getting his afternoon coffee when he happened to glance out the window at the Chinese Plum tree. The raccoon saw him first and ducked his head. All Honey could tell was that there was an animal in the tree.  
    From my comfy chair on the back porch I heard, "Darling! Where are the binoculars?" We pulled the binoculars out from the cabinet and watched the young raccoon as he sat very still. He was perched on a limb that measured only one inch in diameter. A hurricane is approaching our state and we have a steady breeze moving the trees. In addition to this our dog came around to the front yard to see what we were doing. All this made for a very unpleasant afternoon for the raccoon.
    It is usual for us to have young raccoons and possums visit us in the late summer. This one would have been born this past spring. His mother would have shown him where to find food before he moved out of the home. Apparently she showed him our yard with our the bird feeder and fruit trees. When he climbs down from this tree he will travel head first, but will turn his back feet around so that his toes point up the tree.
    Surprisingly, our dog Kira did not detect his presence. She is always very aware and has an excellent nose. I have often seen her stand up on her back legs with her front legs on a tree trunk sniffing the air and barking. I am not sure why she did not pick up on the fact that we had a visitor in our yard. Perhaps the major change in the weather affects her sense of smell in some way.
    The Chinese believe that plums have many health benefits. In studies on rats they increased the rats' endurance while running. Tonight after dark this fellow will surely eat more plums, climb down from his perch, and run away! Without getting winded!

Ghost Town

    

    During my trip to Montana I was able to visit Nevada City, the site of a gold rush town from the 1860s. This was not the corny tourist attraction I feared. Rather it was a serious attempt by the Montana Heritage Commission to preserve buildings and history from that era.
    The town lent itself well to high dynamic range photography. HDR, in a nutshell, allows us to use software to bring out tones that we can't capture with "normal" photography. If the HDR software is used more aggressively it produces surreal photos like the top one.
    Photos that are "color-ie" or "textur-ie" work well in HDR, according to Ben Long. He teaches (on Lynda.com) that with HDR we make photos "crunchy." I can't think of any better way to describe it, so I am not going to argue with Mr. Long about his choice of words.
    These train cars are about as color-ie and textur-ie as it gets. I feel as if I could get a nice reddish-orange splinter just from looking at the photos.

    This house was built in 1873 by a rancher, gold miner and legislator named Stedman. Like many buildings in the town, it was moved to Nevada City from its original location by the state of Montana as part of the historical preservation effort.
    The trees are Cottonwood and have the most beautiful bark.

    One interesting story from Nevada City's history comes from a newspaper called the Montana Post. In 1864 the Post reported that three sisters with the last name of Canary were begging in the streets while their father gambled in the dance hall. The oldest sister was probably Martha Canary who grew up to be Calamity Jane.
    Calamity Jane was a fascinating person according to an article in Montana Outlaw by Hunter Rothwell. She could easily have an entire blog devoted to her story. Jane could ride, shoot, and drink whiskey by the age of thirteen. Three years after the newspaper reported her father's gambling escapades she was an orphan. With no one to care for her she tried her hand at a variety of jobs including stints as a dance-hall girl, ox team driver, army scout, and as a Pony Express rider.
    She also had many run-ins with the law. Drunk and disorderly conduct, shoplifting, and running through the streets naked while drunk were a few of her offenses.
    To be fair, Calamity Jane was also known for her kind heart. She helped many people and even volunteered to nurse small pox victims.
    Calamity Jane was so unique, even her boyfriend had a unique name, Arkansas Tom.

    Most of you probably already know this, but if you are viewing my blog on-line you can click on any of these photos to see them at full size.

Reflections

    Visiting Montana is like visiting another country. I say that as a compliment.
    The population density of my my home state is 196 inhabitants per square mile, which places us at 15th in the nation. In Montana the population density is 6.8 inhabitants per square mile, 48th in the nation. Or, to put it another way, there are 28 times as many people in a square mile here as compared to there.
    When you pick up my hometown paper and read the crime report you will see murders, rapes, and armed robberies. In the town of West Yellowstone, Montana you will read that "A camper reported that a bear was near them," and "Someone found a calico cat."
    Folks in West Yellowstone love to get out and enjoy their beautiful mountains. They especially enjoy camping. They enjoy it so much that they have a campground at their airport. One of our guides is so crazy about camping that as soon as he could shake himself loose from camping with us he was going to spend one week camping with his family in an area so remote it takes two days to get there.
    Speaking of the airport, it is so small there is only one airstrip for landing or taking off. While waiting for my flight out I counted my fellow passengers. They numbered 20 people and a dog.
    The TSA agents walk freely among the passengers in the airport's only waiting room. They make announcements in a friendly fashion unusual for members of their profession. "We'll start screening at ten past. Huckleberry jam and syrup are considered liquids and gels and must be transported as checked baggage, not as carry on." Upon this several passengers jumped up to return to the only check-in desk with their bags.
    The airport is only open from June through September. The rest of the year they are closed due to snow. This schedule is "approximate" according to their official web site. During the winter the airport is rented out to a company who tests snow and cold conditions on tires and other equipment.
    It snows a LOT in Montana. The beautiful meadow pictured above was covered in snow just two weeks before I arrived.........in July! Just over the state line at Sawtelle Peak, Idaho I saw a snow pole. These look  like a cross between a telephone pole and a large ruler. They are marked in feet so that one can tell how much snow is on the ground. The highest measurement on the pole? Eleven feet!
    I put together a little slide show with photos from my trip. You can see it on You Tube by clicking here.

Ridin' Mules

   

    In July I was fortunate enough to attend a photography workshop led by  John and Barb Gerlach. We spent six days in the mountains of Montana. Yellowstone Mountain Guides  provided the saddle horses, pack mules, wranglers, and a cook for our expedition of twelve people.
    All guests and the workshop leaders rode horses. The guide staff rode mules or horses according to personal preference. Tents, food, and personal belongings were packed in by seven mules.
    The mules can carry over 200 lbs apiece. Some mules work solely as pack mules and can't be ridden under saddle. Other mules can be ridden under saddle and these are called ridin' mules. Guides often argue about which ones are which.
    One night we discovered that we were short one horse due to a lost shoe. Well aware of the discussion among the guides as to which mules can or can't be ridden, I volunteered to ride a mule the following day if one was available. All agreed that Banjo was a ridin' mule and that after a day in the saddle on this mule I would never want to trail ride on a horse again.

Banjo

    The morning of the ride arrived cool and clear with low humidity. The camp cook informed me that the way to Banjo's heart was through his stomach and that I should feed him his favorite treat, Tree Top All Natural Fruit Snacks. I walked over to where he stood tied and tore open a package of the Gummi bear-like snacks.  At the sound of the wrapper he perked up his gigantic ears. He relished the bribe and I left him licking his lips, certain that he was now very fond of me.
    The ride began well. Banjo had a smooth comfortable walk and he picked his way carefully over rocks, logs, and creeks. This ride was a cakewalk for him compared to his usual job carrying heavy packs up steep mountains. I did notice that he constantly swished his tail, a behavior that I blamed on insects that must be badgering him.
    We reached a beautiful green mountain meadow after an hour's ride. We were to have our pictures taken one by one with the mountain as a backdrop. All the animals who weren't presently being photographed were allowed to relax and feast on the tender green grass. While waiting our turn I slipped my feet out of the stirrups to stretch my achy knees.
    The rodeo was on!
    Banjo realized almost immediately that I was in a vulnerable position without my feet in the stirrups. He stopped grazing and bucked once. I grabbed the saddle horn tightly with my right hand, suspecting that I was in trouble. He bucked a second time. My feet flew up in the air as if controlled by some maniacal puppeteer and I became totally convinced that I was in peril. He bucked a third time. I sensed several inches of air between the seat of my pants and the saddle. I became airborne. Banjo took just one more step to regain his balance and calmly put his head back down to resume eating.
    Fortunately for me I was not hurt. I hurled some choice expletives at Banjo at the top of my lungs. Remorseless, he bent his head to ask for a rub.
    At least we answered the question "Is Banjo a ridin' mule?" The answer is a resounding "NO!"

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How Lucky Was That?

    Sunday morning I went out very early with my camera. Each time I step into the woods I remind myself that I never know what I might see. This might be the day I photograph a four hundred pound bear or a fourteen pound bobcat. Either of those would be a big "first" for me.

    I settled down with my back against a tree and waited patiently, trying not to fall asleep. Soon I heard a dog barking in the distance. A small herd of deer came crashing by. They were in passing gear and the only photo I took was too blurred to show anyone.

    Fifteen minutes later the dog came by, panting heavily and laboring to climb a hill. She was in 4-wheel drive low and clearly posed no threat to the deer. I thought about getting up from my hiding place to take her picture just for fun, but you might think that was silly.

    The woods settled back down and so did I. In the woods, if you are quiet and still a squirrel may let down his guard and come within camera range. Last year a squirrel leaned so far out from his branch high above that he fell to the ground at my feet with a thump. He nearly gave me a heart attack. 

    On this Sunday morning a little male squirrel scampered through the leaves to check me out. I took his picture, but you have seen plenty of squirrels and I didn't think you would want to see another.

    It was almost nine o'clock and beginning to look like another day in the woods with nothing to show for it. Grand Baby and his mother were coming for coffee and I did not want to be late. I began working my way slowly back to the house while checking the ground carefully. I hoped to see a fawn that might have been left sleeping under a tree while his mom went in search of her breakfast.

    I was almost home when I discovered a blackberry bush growing wild. What a great find! Every wild animal loves to eat blackberries. I stopped for a few minutes to look through my camera lens and think about how I could exploit this new location on my next trip into the woods. A movement to my left caught my eye and so I swung my lens around to catch something I have never seen before. It was a little hummingbird collecting white fluffy material from the weeds to add to her nest.

The average hummingbird weighs eleven grams or less than the weight of five pennies. So this is a very small "first" for me.

The Sailor Man

    The grand baby came to visit today. He has Popeye arms.

Cheese!

    Meet Winston. Winston has a reputation for being the Ferris Bueller of the dog world. I think he is just smarter than most dogs.
    For instance, Winston always does what he is asked. If he wants to. When I was making his portrait he had a wonderful time sitting and being rewarded with crackers. But when he was done he was done and no amount of coaxing, cajoling or crackers could change his mind. He wasn't ugly about it. As a matter of fact he looked quite cheerful as his rear end disappeared around the corner of the house.
    Winston loves his owner, tennis balls, and paper products. He is constantly on the look out for paper towels and toilet paper. House guests quickly learn to keep bathroom doors shut and paper napkins well away from the edge of the table.
    Winston lives in a home with loving discipline. He tries not to notice.
    He is never fed from the table. So it is hard to understand why it is that if you really want Winston's attention all you have to say is "Cheese!"
 

Scenes from the County Fair

 Hungry Clowns

Painted Faces

Talking Camels

Speeding Pigs

Dangerous Neighborhood

    This cute little fuzzy guy will grow up to be an Eastern Tent Moth. He is a docile caterpillar who allowed me to pick him up and move him several times in order to get this photograph.

    He is also responsible for an untold number of deaths.

    In the spring of 2001 race horse breeders and their veterinarians began reporting that pregnant mares were losing their unborn foals at an alarming rate. In Kentucky alone approximately 2600 unborn foals were lost. The value of the lost foals was estimated to be from 350 to 500 million dollars.

    After a lot of hard work researchers were able to establish that the pregnant mares had eaten Eastern Tent Moth Caterpillars. Those little fuzzy hairs? Under an electron microscope investigators saw barbs on them. Like a rose stem with thorns. When a mare ate a caterpillar the hairs penetrated the lining of her digestive tract and entered her bloodstream. The hairs had bacteria on them. As they traveled around in the blood some of them entered the unborn foal's body and caused a fatal bacterial infection followed by abortion.

    My apologies to any naturalists that may view my blog. These caterpillars like cherry and apple trees. I took this little fellow from his tree and put him on a flower in order to get a more attractive photo. 

    While fetching him from his tree I noticed a very small movement directly to my right. When I looked more closely I recognized an old acquaintance shown in a previous blog. They were one half inch longWheel Bugs. Mama Wheel Bug knew what she was doing when she laid her eggs nearby because Wheel Bugs eat caterpillars. These young Wheel Bugs were only 1/2 inch long, including their antennae.

    Eastern Tent Moth Caterpillars are interesting to read about. They make nests that are comfortable in a variety of temperatures and when they find food they create scent trails for their housemates to follow. If you would like to read more click on this link.

    If you would like to see an electron micrograph of a barbed hair click here. And just to add a small "ick" factor, there are medical reports of people getting these in their eyes.

Excuse Me

    A raccoon has recently decided to use the hayloft in my horse barn for a potty. This is called a "raccoon latrine." I Googled raccoon latrine and got 17,900 hits in 0.15 seconds. This is obviously a much bigger problem than I realized.
    I chose to follow the advice of a county public health site on the web. "We are the government. We are here to help." Right?
    I followed their instructions to the letter and cleaned up my latrine exactly as they advised. I had to wear protective gear and take multiple precautions as some raccoon feces may carry a deadly parasite.
    Following all this effort the obvious next step was to place something in the hayloft that would prevent the raccoon from returning. The government recommends either mothballs or coyote urine. Wouldn't you know it?  I was completely out of coyote urine! So it would have to be mothballs.
     I spent quite a lot of time placing mothballs all over the hayloft. This is not as easy as it might seem. My hayloft is not tall enough to allow an adult to stand upright. And the only 4 ft tall child I know was busy Sunday. So I stooped over for hours on this job.
    The theory is that the mothballs smell so bad (true) that the raccoon would not return (false.)
    After all my hard work I wanted to see how things were going.  I parked my car outside of the barn and was greeted by the overwhelming odor of mothballs baking in the warm spring air. Confident that this unnatural scent would repel any wild animal I climbed up to the hayloft. There, before my eyes, were at least six little raccoon piles. All of them deposited within inches of my carefully applied mothballs.
    I resolved that none of this would be in vain. I would get a photo! So I set up my trusty deer-cam and got the little guy's picture on the second try.
  
  
  

Hodge Podge

    According to Wikipedia a hodge podge is " a word used to describe a confused or disorderly mass or collection of things; a 'mess' or a 'jumble.'" 

    I would like to present a hodge podge of images from my Saturday at the Civil War reenactment. 

    Reenacting. It's not just for adults.

    I like close ups of the gear. Here you can see his knife, belt buckle and bayonet.

    An officer shouts commands to his troops. Most officers eventually sent their swords home for safe keeping, preferring instead to carry more useful weapons such as revolvers or rifles.

    I was surprised to learn that wooden canteens were common, especially among the Confederate troops. Any areas that leaked were sealed with bee's wax.

    Even the metal canteens had cork stoppers.

    The blacksmith made this grill so that it disassembled into many long pieces. It was then easy to pack for transport on a wagon.

    

    My research assistant, otherwise known as my daughter, found all sorts of explanations on the internet for the upside down US belt buckles. Some sources say that the practice, while common during reenactments, may not have commonly occurred in history. 

    Even the most devoted reenactor needs a cold Pepsi on a hot day.

    For a calendar of events commemorating the 150th anniversary of the Civil War in the state of North Carolina go to www.nccivilwar150.com.