If I can no longer swim in the lake, even in a wetsuit, due to near-freezing night-time temperatures, I can at least stare at the abandoned beach and the recurrent waves, completely alone, save for the company of seagulls.
Just Chillin'
...well, maybe it's more like "just tanning" for this punk-rock duck.
I suspect this is a merganser, but I'm no bird expert (though I'm learning).
In Between
I find the November-December period in the small town where I currently reside to be the most difficult one to handle. Nature is in the "in-between" stage--neither autumn, nor winter, in terms of fluctuating weather and aesthetics. Worse yet, sunsets before 5 pm in these shortest days of the year leave the streets dark (starless, moonless due to frequent cloud cover) with the exception of the small entertainment district in the downtown area.
There is a primordial urge to set bonfires in the snow.
I have spent most of my life in heavily urbanized spaces. Despite my own Kracauerite criticisms thereof, not to mention environmental ones, I still find myself missing the 24-hour electric lighting and the siren song of The City tricking you into forgetting that you live in an almost permanent Night (sometimes seasonally, and in terms of the metaphysics of Postmodernity--always).
That said, certain late-autumn sunsets can be startling, especially if you happen to meet them in a new place you discovered by chance simply by walking your dog in a different direction. Perhaps, it's the anticipation of total darkness that makes them so.
The River (Mobile), II
The owls are not what the seem.
This is true: over the past two years, I've lived in the general area where the cult TV series Twin Peaks had been filmed. I've heard owls talking to the Moon at night, but they'd never reveal themselves to me.
Until now.
I observed a large one over turbulent water heading into the deep of the evergreen forest.
It was magnificent.
I also encountered more wildlife in a couple of hours out on the river than ever before. Three low-flying bald eagles, an osprey or two, an excellent raven specimen, not to mention assorted deer, frogs, chipmunks, ganders, and, of course, trout.
So much trout.
And if I weren't on the water fishing (and releasing), I'd have photographic proof.
I actually heard the raven first, so I mentally asked it to show itself.
It did.
I love when that happens!
And the osprey? This bird engaged in a thirty-minute (!) conversation with one of us sufficiently capable of imitating through whistling. I suspect it was trying to inform us that we grossly failed at its language and, oh, we were also encroaching on its territory, while we were at it!
Get out! Get out!
Eventually, we did, as the osprey sat triumphantly on top of its giant nest on the side of a cliff watching its intruders row toward the peaks in the distance.
Heaven over Water (Waiting)
Came upon this lovely duck pond the other day.
Think I might have scared off a frog prince or two! ;)
Evening Shower
You may have noticed that I've been posting a considerable amount of images shot in the rain or under active water.
This is a relatively new area for me, and for good reason. A few years ago, I visited Germany, Austria, and Italy, photographing standard tourist imagery--and my friends along the way--with a digital point-and-shoot. I ended up getting caught in the rain at the Coliseum, of all places, losing the entire contents of the memory card in the process to irreversible damage.
As a result, I've been quite reluctant to shoot under wet conditions, even though many digital SLRs claim to be weather-resistant.
Until now.
I am quite fascinated by the variety of abstraction--not to mention an evocative atmosphere--one gets from water obscuring parts of an image.
The above, for instance, is a grouse standing on a stone bench and enjoying a bit of a shower on a local mountain.
Oh, and this might be a good place to mention that I did lose a smartphone to a similar kind of irreparable damage a few weeks ago despite wearing a serious raincoat!