birds Archives ~ Rambling ranger

March 10, 2023

Finding Peace

Finding peace in today’s world isn’t easy. So much chaos! So many things going wrong! Cold war with both China and Russia, the war in the Ukraine, climate change and crazy weather, women’s rights going backwards, mass shootings practically every week, inflation, earthquakes….AAAAAAGH! Things seem pretty desperate!

Well, yes, the world situation is desperate. It’s desperate more often than not. Always has been. We’re just better informed about it now. That’s the problem. Bad news gets more engagement than good news so the algorithms are heavily slanted toward whatever will get people’s blood pressure up and make them worry.

Goldstream Beach. Redwood National Park — A walk on the beach may help you find peace.

How can we overcome this? For one thing, put the device down! Whether it’s your computer or your phone, when you start doomscrolling, cut yourself off. Go outside instead. It’s good to be informed about the world, but we are all suffering from information overload. It’s enough to rob anyone of their peace. And since most of these things are problems we have no control over, the frustration makes it worse.

So let it go. Do not let your empathy paralyze you. Decide if there is anything you can do about the problem and then do what you can. Donate to a relief fund for those in the midst of a disaster. Write your congressperson. Do what you can and then let it go. Don’t doomscroll.

Death Valley National Park — Make sure your walk is somewhere interesting or difficult enough to keep you fully engaged. This canyon in Death Valley was both.

I’d like to offer a few meditative exercises to do that help me find peace. Maybe they can help you, too.

Take a hike or a walk. This is a walking meditation on how to live in the present, how to be here now. Make sure that where you go is interesting or difficult enough to keep you engaged, so that you can shut down the endless tape loop of anxiety you are working and reworking in your head. Shut it down and appreciate the present moment instead. That’s guaranteed to bring you some peace, if only for a little while.

A walk in the forest can help you find peace.

If you’re mobility challenged and can’t take that walk, watch birds. Really watch them, don’t just tick species off your list. Observe their behavior. There’s a lot more to the world than just our species. It’s good to get out of ourselves and get to know some of the other creatures we share our planet with. Finding a way to get in touch with our Mother the Earth is the best way to find peace.

Perhaps what’s disturbing your peace is a little closer to home. Maybe it IS home. Personal conflicts, work pressures, worries about loved ones are hard to overcome. They can take away every vestige of peace in our lives.

Finding peace — Let the wind and the water wash your worries away.

In some cases we can make it better by being better listeners, keeping quiet and listening to understand another’s point of view. Sometimes we just may need to take some alone time.

Olympic National Park — Find moving water and listen to its song.

Find moving water. It could be waves roaring in the ocean. It might be a waterfall. It could even be a tiny babbling brook. Find that water and listen to its song. Let it fill your head completely, driving out all thought and agitation, until the only thing in your head is the sound of water. Let it fill you. This is a great way to find peace.

Orcas Island — Let the song of the water fill your head.

Maybe it’s your own mind that destroys your peace. Self pity and self judgment are soul wreckers, guaranteed to disturb the peace. Self judgement is a big one for me. Let it go. Give yourself a break.

My favorite way to find peace is to go to a forest or a glade of trees and contemplate the trees, really see them. Think of time the way a tree experiences it. Let yourself be awestruck at their size and the miracle of their existence. Realize how small and unimportant you and any of your petty problems are in the grand scheme of life on Earth. This might help to put problems into perspective and help you find peace.

Redwood National Park — Contemplating trees helps to put your problems in proper perspective.

Perhaps, you say, that you have no problem feeling small. That feeling small is part of the problem, feeling insignificant, weak, and helpless in the face of insurmountable challenges. In that case, choose a flower. It could be a wildflower or something growing in your own garden. Ponder the perfection and beauty of this tiny being. Think of how ephemeral and insignificant their lives are, yet each flower plays an important part in the world, adding to the richness of life’s tapestry.

As do you, Realize that you, too are precious and beautiful just as you are. Realize that you, too, are an important part of life’s tapestry. Let this realization help you find peace.

Sometimes flowers can help us find peace. — You are as beautiful and precious as a flower.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my meditations. I hope they help some of you find peace, even if only for a little while. Thank you to Tina of Travels & Trifles for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Finding Peace.

March 3, 2023

Alone Time

“I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity. ” –Albert Einstein

I think I’ve had more alone time this winter than I’ve ever had, in any season, in my entire life.

I didn’t plan it that way. The people I am housesitting for said it would be okay if I had guests, and I put the invitation out there. At least half a dozen friends and family members expressed an interest. Ocean-front property on Orcas Island? Sure! Sounds like fun! But in one way or another, somehow all those plans fell through.

Alone time in the San Juan Islands — I’ve had lots of alone time on Orcas Island.

Even though I’ve been on Orcas Island for four months, I haven’t made new friends. I’ve put out a few feelers – introduced myself to neighbors, attended a few concerts and other town social events, entered an exhibition. Everyone has been nice, I’ve had some interesting conversations, but that’s as far as it goes.

Everyone has full lives. They have no reason to go out of their way to befriend a here today/gone tomorrow transient housesitter. It’s kind of a waste of their precious time, even if she does seem to be a nice lady! I get it.

I must admit I could have tried harder. Although I am outgoing and find it easy to talk to strangers in my work persona as a park ranger, in my personal life I’m kind of shy. I didn’t put myself in any situation that would take me out of my comfort zone. I didn’t get an outside job. I didn’t go to the bar.

The truth is, I haven’t tried harder to make new friends because I really have been enjoying my solitude!

Egret at Moss Landing, California — We need solitude for reflection and contemplation.

“Solitude is creativity’s best friend, and solitude is refreshment for our souls.” -Naomi Judd

Everyone needs alone time. Solitude sparks creativity. It can renew your soul. It allows time for daydreams and imagination, reflection and invention.

Carmel Beach, CA — There is freedom in solitude.

There is freedom in solitude. No one to tell you what you should be doing or where you should be going. Instead, it’s all up to you.

Some activities require solitude. Reading, writing, and meditating come to mind. There are other activities where going solo brings immense rewards but at the price of much greater risk. For instance, as a park ranger, I often have to tell people that they should hike with others. It’s much safer. Yet I, and most rangers I know, revel in solitary treks. It’s very important to understand and acknowledge the risks of solitude and to be aware of the possible consequences of your actions when pursuing these kinds of activities solo.

Cape Disappointment State Park, Washington — Going solo can be risky.

“Solitude is not something you must hope for in the future. Rather, it is a deepening of the present, and unless you look for it in the present you will never find it. “ -Thomas Merton

For many people, it’s not easy to get that alone time we all need. The demands of work, family and friends can consume our lives. Solitude becomes a rare and precious event. If this sounds like you, it’s especially important to carve yourself out some alone time, even if you have to make a date with yourself and schedule it.

Sanderling alone time — Even if you usually run with the flock, you need to carve yourself out some alone time.

“If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.” – Jean-Paul Sartre

There’s a big difference between solitude and loneliness. Solitude is the positive application of alone time. Loneliness and depression happen when you dwell on the negative aspects of being alone. Solitude has a purpose.

Mendocino beach sunset — Loneliness is the dark side of solitude.

“I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time.” – Henry David Thoreau

Some people need more solitude than others. They need their space. I’m in that category. So are many of my friends back home in McCarthy. A friend of mine once said, “McCarthy is where loners go to be social.”

Oystercatcher alone time — Some odd birds like me need extra alone time.

McCarthy is very social in the summer, but most residents deal with a lot of alone time in the winter. I find it interesting that two of my friends from McCarthy have also written about the pleasures of solitude this week. Jon Erdman of the Wrangell Mountains Center wrote a post about the effects of solitude. Kristen Link is a natural history artist and science illustrator. One of the prompts in her latest newsletter encourages other artists to draw what silence looks like. I don’t draw, but the following image is my answer to that prompt.

Long Beach, WA — This is what Silence looks like.

Perhaps that is why I feel okay about my season of solitude. It’s winter, a natural time to draw resources inward, to go quiet, and be dormant. The quiet time is necessary for future growth.

Moonstone Beach, Trinidad, CA — Alone time is necessary.

Spring will soon be here, a time for new growth, new connections, the ground prepared and spirit renewed by that season of dormancy. In April I will be traveling, embracing old friends and new experiences. I look forward to my spring travels, but I will also cherish this final month of alone time.

Thank you to Ann-Christine of Leya for this week’s Len-Artists Photo Challenge, Alone Time.

February 10, 2023

Monochrome: Shadows and Reflections

My approach to photography has generally been pretty traditional. My photos are usually realistic, no frills or special effects except perhaps a little color saturation, which I’ve loved since the old-school film days when I used Velvia slide film and underexposed half a stop to get that rich kind of color.

Monochrome reflections — Reflections on the McCarthy Road

But for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Patti asks us to share monochrome images with reflections or interesting shadows. I have a few monochrome images in my files, and found some that work well with this theme. But I’ve had a bit of fun re-imagining some of my polychrome images, too.

Seagull sunset at Beard’s Hollow, Cape Disappointment State Park

Here are a shadow (silhouette) and a reflection shot from Washington’s Long Beach Peninsula. They’re all about the birds.

You might have noticed that the seagull scenic wasn’t quite black & white, more of a blue. Monochrome means one color, not greyscale. Here are a couple of colorful monochrome images. Continuing on the bird theme…

blue monochrome image - living sculpture — a natural living sculpture

Williams, Oregon — Christmas morning, 2021

monochrome Bandon Beach sunset — Bandon Beach

I think the beach may be my favorite place to make monochrome images.

But there are so many nice reflections on the McCarthy Road, too.

Here are a couple of pond lily reflections from the McCarthy Road, one in infrared, one in standard greyscale, under different lighting, portraying very different moods.

Pond lily monochrome — Infrared in late afternoon light

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve — Standard grey scale at midday

I transformed a pink dawn moonset at New Mexico’s Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge into a nighttime moonrise by going monochrome in this image.

Monochrome moonset on the Bosque — B&W moonset on the Bosque looks like a moonrise.

As I look over my catalog, I see a lot of reflections and a lot of interesting silhouettes, but not that many interesting shadows. Shadows can accentuate texture and be quite dramatic in their own right, but I guess I don’t readily “see” their potential when out shooting. Too much of that polychrome mindset, instead of exploring the possibilities of monochrome. Something I’ll have to work on, now that I’m aware of it. But here is an image where strong shadows help to create an impression. In this phot of Jug Handle Arch near Moab, the shadows accentuate the texture and power of the rock as well as the harshness of the desert sun.

My last image is a bit strange. I was exploring the ghost town of Goldfield, Nevada, which has an infamously haunted hotel. I peered into the window of the derelict building and spied an upright piano sitting amongst the rubble. I really wanted to capture a photo of the piano, but the glare from the midday sun and reflections from the brick wall obscured the view. The image I ended up with, though, looks uncannily like the piano is a reflection or even a mirage, oddly appropriate and haunting for a ghost town.

Thank you, Patti, for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Shadows and Reflections in Monochrome.

November 18, 2022November 19, 2022

Neighbors

OK, I’m back. It’s been a while since I wrote a post, more than six months. My Mom passed away and then life got really busy. I needed time to grieve. Something had to give, and with the internet connection challenges of my remote rural Alaska home, it was the blog. But I’m back now, and I wanted to mention a few of my neighbors, who I can always count on to bring a smile to my face.

I’m not talking about just my human neighbors, although they, too, can be counted on to bring a smile to my face. I’m not the only one who’s gotten busier lately. We seldom have time to visit anymore.

I see a lot more of my other neighbors, the wild ones. They visit often. Some of them are practically roommates, like the porcupine who moved in under the house in the spring of 2020, when I was a little late getting back home to Alaska due to Covid. I had to evict that squatter. He was a bad roommate. He chewed up the hose connecting my propane tank to the house.

Pine Grosbeak — Songbirds bring joy to my life.

Some neighbors are always welcome. My favorites are the songbirds. Waking up to their songs brings joy to my life daily.

Another species that I see often in the fall is the spruce grouse. It’s a mystery. I don’t understand it. These birds don’t migrate. They live here year-round. Yet they’re everywhere in the fall, but you NEVER see them in the spring and summer. Where are they? It is a mystery.

The snowshoe hares go through big population boom and busts, too. It’s about an 11-year cycle. Some years you are practically tripping on them, there are so many. Then the population crashes and you can go a whole summer and maybe see one.

Some neighbors can be obnoxious. I’m talking about tree rats, aka squirrels. They have no conception of private property and will trash your house and steal your insulation to use in their own home. Obnoxious. So I was really glad to see a new addition to my neighborhood this fall, a pine martin. He’ll clean out those pesky squirrels!

Another neighbor I’m usually happy to see is the moose. They’re good at teaching ME that lesson about private property. The lesson that there is no such thing. My land belongs to them, too. I hate to have them visit when they are intent on eating the garden or chowing down on that going-to-be oh-so-photogenic patch of head-high fireweed blossoms that would perfectly set off my best view, the day before they would flower.

Black Bear Cubs — Cute, but stay outta my yard!

Then there’s the neighbor that Alaska is famous for, the one I am much happier NOT seeing in my yard. Ever. Bears. I could see either black bear or grizzlies in my neighborhood, although thank goodness not as often as I saw them when I was renting a house in the middle of a soapberry patch. But you have to always be aware, every single time you walk out the door, that they could be there, maybe just around the corner. I mean, I’m glad I live in a place where I can still run into a bear on Main Street, as I did this summer in Kennecott. But I hope they stay away from my house!

I have another new neighbor in the ‘hood, down in McCarthy town, in Clear Creek, where I get my water. We are getting a few, though I wouldn’t call it a run yet, red salmon now coming up Clear Creek. We’ve had an October run of silver salmon for a long time, but the reds have only started showing up the last few years, in August.

It’s because of the dynamic landscape we live in, constantly changing and changing ever more quickly these days due to the glacial retreat caused by global climate change. The hydrological changes in the town of McCarthy are especially striking. Land that was forest when I first moved here is now wetland. The little pond at the toe of the glacier is now a big lake. These changes have made the area more attractive for some creatures, like beaver and salmon, but caused some big challenges for us, the human residents.

Dall's Sheep above Chitina — Dall’s Sheep above Chitina

There are other neighbors living a little farther away, but still in what I would consider the neighborhood. These friends I don’t see as often maybe but enjoy whenever I get the chance. There’s that family of swans in the Chokosna ponds area. It’s always nice to catch up with them, and see how many cygnets they’re raising this year. I might see the occasional bald eagle, or rarer still, a glimpse of Dall’s Sheep in the Crystalline Hills or up above the town of Chitina. Maybe I’ll see a lynx along the McCarthy Road, or a weasel in Kennecott. I’m glad to live in a community with so many wonderful neighbors!

Thanks to Anne of Slow Shutter Speed for this week’s Lens-Artist Photography Challenge, “Wildlife Close To Home”.

January 7, 2022

My Favorite Photos of 2021

I tried to keep it down to 12, but I couldn’t. Here is a baker’s dozen of my favorite photos of 2021.

It was really hard to cut it down to just a baker’s dozen. Reviewing the images I’ve captured over the last year, I realized that what I had were favorite photographic moments, not individual photos.

Alaska alpenglow in the Chugach Mountains — Purple Mountain’s Majesty, a favorite photographic moment.

You know, when you’re really in the zone, actively practicing the Art of Seeing? You might take a whole series of shots and not be able to choose one in the series as the best. That’s how I felt about a lot of these images.

I tried to disqualify images I’d already published in this blog (mostly!) So if you read my last few blog posts, you’ll find a few more favorites I wish I could include.

Alaska alpenglow Chugach Mountains — Knik Glacier

Despite all the darkness and cold, there are some things about winter in Alaska that are really special and that I miss when I’m not there, kind of a reward for those who tough it out. One is the aurora, of course. Another is the special pink sunset/twilight glow in the sky on certain cold, clear nights. Although I got lots of great alpenglow, I didn’t see as many pink light evenings as I have in past winters. But I did get it one evening when I photographed the Knik Glacier.

I went to Homer to see a few birds this spring. The migration was a bit disappointing, but I did get some wonderful eagle shots!

This is my favorite flower shot for 2021. I didn’t shoot nearly as many flowers as in years past, since I stayed in Alaska and didn’t follow the bloom. But I saw two brand new flowers I’d never noticed before in a few ponds along the McCarthy Road, White Water Lilies and Wild Calla.

Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge, New Mexico — Sunrise on the Bosque

It was October. It was not yet prime time for birds at Bosque del Apache. Due to the drought, the ponds on the edge of the refuge that are usually the go-to spots for bird photographers trying to catch the spectacle of the Bosque were dry. I wasn’t expecting much. I only had one day to spare. But the Bosque is a magical place and doesn’t disappoint. Having fewer sources of water concentrated the birds that were there. I was surprised to realize that three of my favorite photos for the entire year were taken on that day.

Even though I published the sunrise photo in a prior post, I had to include it since it was probably my second-most favorite photo for the year. Also, I processed it a little differently this time and think it does a better job of capturing the feel of sunrise on the Bosque.

Vesper Sparrows — Every leaf on this tree is a bird.

As I slowly drove by, I realized that all those “dead leaves” on that tree were birds. Then they took off and I was swept up by a cloud of birds. The Bosque is bird heaven!

California Coastal National Monument — Sunset on the beach at San Simeon

This might be my favorite photo of 2021. Except it’s one of those photographic moments, one of a series… I like the vertical images I captured of this scene a lot, too! Both this image and the feature image were taken on the beach at San Simeon in California. The island the cormorants are roosting on is part of the California Coastal National Monument. It is usually just offshore except during a very low tide, like this one.

I absolutely fell in love with the manzanitas and madrones of southern Oregon in November and December. I can’t choose my very favorite madrone/manzanita photo. I have about 20 favorites. But they were my favorite thing to photograph all year. So here’s one I haven’t published.

Cathedral Hills, Oregon — Manzanita Bark

I couldn’t choose a favorite detail shot of that forest, either. I have about a dozen favorites of bark, lichens, mushrooms… But this is definitely one of those favorites.

Skyline Trail, Cathedral Hills, Oregon — What is it?

This is definitely my favorite abstract of the year, though. Can you guess what it is?

This final shot conveys my thoughts and hopes for 2022, that the light burns through the fog of the last couple of crazy years and brings us all many happy blessings. Welcome 2022!

Thank you to Tina Schell of Travels and Trifles for hosting this week’s Lens Artists Challenge, Favorite Photos of 2021.

November 25, 2021

Follow Your Bliss

Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge

It got to -40 in McCarthy last week, and almost 20 below in Palmer. It’s been C-O-L-D in Alaska.

Thankfully, I’m not there. I decided to make like a bird and migrate. I’ve spent enough winters in cold places. For me, Warmth = Bliss. I’m following my bliss this winter.

TrustedHousesitters has been quite helpful to me when it comes to following my bliss. They hook up people looking for a petsitter with folks like me. I can check out what life is like in other beautiful places for a week or a month, and the homeowners can rest easy knowing that their home and pets will be well taken care of during their absence. It’s a wonderful trade, a real win-win situation.

I spent the end of October taking care of a sweet dog and kitty in Magdalena, New Mexico. Magdalena is the kind of town that brings those old Western movies to life. Established in 1885, it was a cowtown and railhead, the end of the line for cattle drives from as far away as Arizona.

The cattle drives are over, but Magdalena is proud of its rich history and happy to share it with visitors. This sleepy little town is chock full of art galleries and coffee shops. It’s a fun place to spend a Saturday afternoon, strolling along the sidewalks and checking out all the wonderful creations on display.

Ruins of Kelly, NM — Not much left of Kelly

I love ghost towns. One way I follow my bliss is by exploring these glimpses of the past whenever I get the chance. Magdalena is surrounded by ghost towns and near-ghost towns. That old Western movie vibe you feel here? The ghost towns are a big part of that. You get a taste of the Old West as you walk their dusty streets.

Just a few miles from Magdalena is Kelly. It was once a thriving mining community, with a population of over 3,000 people. All that’s left now are foundations, a few walls, and a headframe at the mine. There is only one building left standing in town, the Catholic church.

church in Kelly, NM — …except the church

Another ghost town near Magdalena is Riley. Originally known as Santa Rita, the town changed its name to get a post office, since there was already another Santa Rita in the Territory. Riley was a farming community and died during the Dust Bowl in the 1930s when its water table dropped precipitously. The church is still standing here, too. New Mexico is like that.

Rio Salado — Lack of water is what killed Riley.

Water is key in the New Mexico desert. I spent most of my time in Magdalena sitting on the porch enjoying the birdlife attracted by a tiny pool on the property.

While in New Mexico, I pursued another passion, following my bliss by birdwatching at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. Due to the ongoing drought, things were a little different at the Bosque this fall. The shallow ponds that are usually the big draw for photographers who want those images of thousands of Snow Geese and Sandhill Cranes were dry. The Refuge was only flooding those fields that were planted with food for the birds. But there were still many incredible opportunities to observe and photograph dozens of different species. Sunrise at the Bosque is a magical, holy experience and I am thankful that I was able to visit this year.

I’m on another housesit now, a farm in southern Oregon. There’s a lot of birdlife here, too. I found it rather serendipitous that I am here for Thanksgiving, and a flock of 23 wild turkeys has been hanging out on the property off and on all week. Guess they know I have no intention of shooting them for Turkey Day!

Watching them though, I can totally understand why the Founding Fathers did not take Ben Franklin’s advice and make this bird our national symbol. Turkeys are really homely birds. Bald heads covered with red bumps, wrinkly and scrawny necks, not necessarily a good look for a national symbol!

However, I’m enjoying the peace and serenity of country living this Thanksgiving. I’m thankful to be warm and counting my blessings. It’s a good life. That’s my advice for this Thanksgiving weekend – Count your blessings. And remember to follow your bliss – whenever you can and wherever it leads you!

Thanks to Lindy LeCoq for this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge, “Follow Your Bliss”.

Tag: birds

Finding Peace

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Alone Time

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Monochrome: Shadows and Reflections

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Neighbors

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My Favorite Photos of 2021

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Follow Your Bliss

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