Wordless Wednesday: Beautiful Distortions

Rafting on the Mokelumne

A couple of weekends ago our oldest son came up for a visit. We surprised him with a raft trip down the Mokelumne River.
 The Prospector and I had been on the American River, above Sacramento, with the boys and some friends  many years ago. The water had been very still and we actually had to get out and push the boat down stream that time. We had fun, but it wasn't exactly white water rafting. This was different.
This trip was put on by a group called ORRS and the Foothill Conservancy, who want to make this river into a wild and scenic designated river so it can be protected from dams, water agencies and other foolish people. I need to learn more about this, so I can't tell you too much. I'm learning myself. I only know that this is a beautiful river and if it's not protected someone will come along and muck it up like so many other natural places.
We met at the local supermarket parking lot and signed in. Then they put us in a van and drove us to the river. We went south on highway 49 to Electra Rd, then east along the river to a beach called Box. I have no idea why it's called Box but that's its name.
They gave us life jackets and helmets and showed us how to wear them, how to use the orrs, how to listen to our fearless leader and how to fall out of the raft graceful. Falling into the water was not something that I intended to do, but you have to know WHAT to do if it happens.

The Prospector and I ended up in a raft with six other folks... seven adults and a 10 year old girl. The young girl sat in the middle of the raft, didn't row and never said a word during the whole trip. Our son was in another raft. We wanted to be together but it just didn't work out that way. Which was good because I didn't have to act like I wasn't scared when we hit the rapids.
\You will notice that there are no pictures taken in the rapids. That's because you are rowing, leaning, listening to the leader tell you what to do and  generally working your tail end off so you don't hit a boulder and  dump everyone into the water. It's way more work than it appears when you watch from the shore.

When I had a few minutes of not rowing, I got my little point and shoot camera out of its Ziploc bag and took some shots of the river and some of the scenery. I didn't bring my good Nikon camera. Just my luck it would have been thrown into the water at some point and that would have been the end of a very expensive camera. I have decided to buy a waterproof camera for this kind of adventure... with a float attached so it doesn't sink. think of the possibilities. They're not too expensive. Our guide had one attached to his Cotton Carrier. The small camera was right in front of him and hands free. All he had to do was turn it on. He was shooting video and having the camera on his vest front was really handy. He recommended a Nikon  Coolpix AW100.

Some guy was fishing. He said he hadn't caught anything yet, but he sure looked like he was having a good time just being on the river.

I loved the parts of the river where it was deep and smooth. Rivers are like pacifiers for the soul when they are moving slow and deep. You feel yourself being wooed by the peacefulness of the water and the sound of the raft moving through it. You hear birds and sometimes cows mooing on the surrounding hills... and the sound of water. That's all... OH, and the sound of screaming coming from the folks in the boat behind you as they go through the last bunch of rapids. Then yells of "WE DID IT!"

 We could have gotten out and walked home from here. We live close by, but this was the first time in 15 years that we had been IN a boat ON the river.
The rapids were really fun. Only one was a class 3. The rest were very exciting, but not too difficult to negotiate for us... the "newbies".
I'm hooked. I would go again.  It's an adrenaline rush to go down rapids, rowing and avoiding the rocks and potholes and getting wet... and having the boat turn backwards or almost flip. You have more control that I ever thought you did. It's all about maneuvering the boat correctly and rowing fast, slow, forward and back to control where you go. We all worked very hard at it, listening to our guide and moving together to get through the rapids and into the wide quiet areas. It was truly an exciting and fun experience.
We reached the Middle Bar area and the "take out" for the rafts. We had to carry the rafts up from the river and help get them on the trailers.

Then we climbed into the vans and they returned us to the store parking lot in town.

They only do this a couple of times a year. So if you live anywhere near the Mokelumne River call 800-3-GO-OARS and have some fun. Children have to be 8 years or older.The little girl with us was 10 and I think that the rapids were a little scary for her.  A few times I asked her if she was OK, she shook her head up and down... but she never said a word.
Pacific Gas & Electric controls the Electra Dam and the water flow for the river. You have to be very careful not to swim, float or kayak, by yourself, on this part of the river because of the changing water levels... but going with a group and experienced guides is a safe and wonderful experience.
I'm so glad that we got to do this. We plan on doing it again next year.

Sunday photo fun

I was fooling around with some images I took in the garden on one of those really hot nights last week. I call this faux HDR. Here's what HDR really means. I was just playing around with putting identical photos together.
I took two images that were identical. Lighten the jpeg image and left the RAW image as is. Then I merged then together on Picassa, did a bit of darkening, sharpening and cropping on the new "collage" photo and here it is.
This group of bees were settling in for the night.

They always sleep in the flowers, out in the garden, but this was the first time I had seen this many on one flower. There were six or seven of them vying for sleep space.
Still working on my focusing. Practice, practice, practice. 

Hope you're weekend was a happy one.

(Taken with a Nikon D5100 camera and a Nikon 105mm macro lens.)

Paying attention is required

Happy 4th everyone.

I hope that all of you are having fun , staying cool, eating good food and enjoying family.
Spent the week here by myself. The Prospector went on a fishing trip in British Columbia and has been gone all week. When he leaves for any length of time, this is when Murphy's law always seems to rear its ugly head. This morning it was in the form of a huge Rattlesnake.
We have a resident King snake that lives under the old goat house, but he has either gone on to better hunting grounds or been dispatched by a hawk or owl. Haven't seem the King in a while. He is obviously not taking care of business around here.
This morning, early, the dogs were barking at the back door. I thought they saw the cat. She likes to prance around where they can see her and then runs into the garage, just to annoy them.
I yelled something like, "Hey, stop barking at Annie." and they ignored me... kept barking and started doing their "something wild has entered the area" bark. Cutter gets a sort of hysterical edge to his bark and turns in circles. That he was doing.
I went to the back door and looked out toward the garage.
There it was, slithering across the concrete, the biggest Rattler I've seen in a long, long time.
This is when I went into overdrive. I called my neighbor and he said he would be there as fast as he could.
We always have a plan. The Prospector had already showed me where to grab the bucket and the "snake wrangler", a long tube with a rope inside of it that you pull to tighten.  The plan was for me to loop this around the snakes head and lift it into the bucket. But this was a BIG snake.
I took the wrangler, left the dogs in the house and went out through the front door and around to the front of the garage. I found a container... a big, empty, green plastic planter. It was deep enough, I thought, but now I wasn't sure I wanted to do this. When I looked down the sidewalk I could see the snakes head right at the corner of the garage. I hoped that it would stay right there until my neighbor came. It did.
"D" arrived, had his revolver with him and we went through the garage and came out a door that put us behind the snake. It was over before I knew what happen. The big snake was dead.

 

My neighbor is a very good shot.
This was an old Western Diamondback Rattlesnake and a beautiful specimen.

It was a venomous snake that chose to come into my yard. I can't tell you how this pains me, but I cannot have these rattlers near the house. If I were braver, I would scoop them up and take them to the river like I use to, but when they are this big, and as I get older, I cannot try to relocate them and I will not just scoot them away. We have had too many larger dogs bitten and I will not take the chance with my Corgis.

This one had 14 rattles.
The more a Rattlesnake sheds, the more segments are added to its rattle. When the Rattlesnake vibrates its tail, the segments click together to produce the buzzing rattle sound.

The smooth pear-shaped button of new born Rattlesnake

An unbroken rattle with a button at its tip

A broken rattle ending in a tiered nubbin

The tissue that makes up the rattle is like a thin brittle fingernail. Just as a human can tear a fingernail, when the rattle gets longer than about 8-10 segments, some may break off and be lost. If the string of rattle segments ends in a smooth rounded button, all the segments are there and the rattle is complete. If the rattle string ends in a squarish or tiered nubbin, the rattle has been broken and some segments have been lost.
  You cannot tell a Rattlesnake's age by simply counting its rattles.

(The above information is from this site. Thanks to F. Wayne King for the illustrations.) 


This seemed like an old rattler with a broken set of rattles.

The end of the rattle was rough and broken.

Its markings were really amazing.

"D" took the snake with him. He will skin the snake and freeze the meat. This is a good thing. At least the snake will be of some value as food.
The weather is still very hot. I check the whole front yard, bushes and all the corners where a snake might be resting, before I let Carl and Cutter out. This is a labor of love.
They have their anti venom shots but they are little dogs and must be protected.
Annibel, our barn cat, takes her chances everyday. I always check the chicken boxes before I retrieve the eggs.
I continue to watch everywhere.

"Look before you leap, for snakes among sweet flowers do creep."~German proverb~
( and along garage walls, under wood piles and in unsuspecting corners.)

Have a Happy 4th of July.

Wordless Wednesday: Seagull... on the edge.

It's So Hot.......one of my chickens laid a hard boiled egg.

Well, not really... but I'm trying to find my sense of humor in all this summer heat.
My broody little bantie, Squeakie, wasn't happy with me yesterday morning because I took the only egg that was laid all day. The chickens are affected by the heat too. They just don't want to make the effort.
Squeakie was upset. She wanted to sit on an egg and I, the mean Farmlady, took it.

She went looking but... no eggs. She said something under her breath and left me holding the only chichen product of the day. I know she thought I was taking her child or something. She was not happy about this. Good grief!

With sweat rolling down my face and seeing my sense of humor melting in the heat, I thought about an email I got from my friend in Michigan, recently. She wrote,
 "I always heard the expression, "It's so hot you could fry an egg on the sidewalk" and I always wanted to try it.  I think you should find a spot in your yard with a bit of concrete or a flat rock and try it.  Photographic documentation would make a great blog post."
 I thought...Well what else have I got to do in this heat.
So, here it is.
Documentation.

Yesterday afternoon at 1:28 p.m...
 It was hotter than a fire cracker lit on both end.

I took that one chicken egg of the day,

and cracked it open on the hot concrete between the garage and the house.

At first it just sat there going "Why, why?" Then it started to bubble.

Within a half hour, it had more bubbles and was looking a little stiff.

After a few hours, and getting tired of going outside to check, I drove down town to mail some bills and go to the store. When I returned at about 3:30,

 this was the condition of the egg.

Obviously not a 3 minute egg with toast.
By then the temperature had risen to 107 degrees, in the porch shade, so I gave up. It seemed like this egg was never going to cook. As far as I was concerned, I had collected all the data I needed, Maybe this egg would have fried on a rock in Death Valley but it wasn't going to fry itself here, in my yard.

This morning the damn egg was done.

Hard and pretty much cooked. I forgot to use a non stick spray so I had to scrape it up with some particles of gravel and dog hair.
 It took all night and most of yesterday, but here it is.

Would you like this with toast or an English muffin?
Bacon or sausage?
Has anyone else done this experiment? Let me know. We can write a thesis... together.

This morning I found this monkey in the refrigerator.

Do you think that Squeakie did it? I better leave her an egg today. She can be brutal when she gets her feathers in a wad.
 

Me and my bumble bees, up close and personal.

This is one of my garden bumble bees having dinner on a pink zinnia. (I think he was looking at me.)
 He is a California Bumblebee... Bombus californicus. He is a "he" because he doesn't have a pollen basket on his back legs.Only the females have that big yellow sac on their legs.

 The Nikon 105mm macro lens is what allows me to get this close without endangering my life. (Yes, bumble bees do have stingers, and yes they do hurt.  Unlike honeybees, bumble bees' stingers do not detach from their bodies so they don't die after they sting you.) I'm still learning how to use this new macro lens, but sometimes I do everything right and this photo is the result.
I can't tell you how many shots I took before I got this one... multitudes, believe me. I normally use a tripod but with bees it's best to have some mobility, so I use a monopod or just hand hold the camera.
The image size changes significantly as you focus in the macro range, which makes it very hard to get clear framing. Your DOF (depth of field), the part of the picture that is in focus, is very small.  It's enough to drive me crazy trying to get precise focus on my subject. But this one worked.

I love these flowers. Zinnias come in such beautiful colors and are a lot easier to shoot than bees. They stay in one place.

You can see some of the pollen on this one above and something like glitter on all the edges of the flower below.

I love the world of Macro photography. All these small parts of the flower can be seen and studied. The insects become monsters. "Mothra" becomes real. It's a hidden world waiting for discovery.

No wonder the bees look like this. The pollen is everywhere. It's like a snowy day.

Here are two of them (Yes, one is behind the other.) trying to collect pollen out of a hollyhock flower. They're covered with pollen.. It's like snow.

These are the edges of the hollyhock petals. I love this color... It's the palest pink, almost white.

After the leaves die back, what remains is the seed pod. I have many colors of hollyhocks in the garden but this pale one has the darkest seed pod. Seems odd, doesn't it. 

You can see the seeds very clearly. I think they're beautiful. I'm collecting the seeds as they dry. If anyone would like some seeds just ask when you comment. I would be glad to send you some. I'm starting to lay them out on the table to continue drying. This pale off white one is the most lovely, even when it starts to dry. 
These little "bumbles" are wonderful to watch and photograph.  When night comes they all find a place to sleep. Tonight they will all try to sleep inside a flower. It's funny to watch them vie for position. One flower  tonight had five bumblebees trying to find a place to sleep.

This little bumblebee has settled in for the night. They sleep inside the flowers and between the seed pods. He's all snuggled in. Good night little one. See you in the morning.

The tough old bird in Florence

Did you ever feel like a bird had human qualities? Have you ever seen your own behavior in some wild critter? Well, when "D" and I started down the coast of Oregon two weeks ago, we saw lots of birds, mostly seagulls. They're everywhere and one, in particular, reminded me of myself when I'm having a bad day... or when I just want to be alone and someone arrives at my door, uninvited.
When we reached Florence to spend the night, we decided to drive out to the ocean and watch the sun set. Not having been in Florence for a very long time, I forgot that the Siuslaw River comes down and flows into the ocean here. We looked for a road that went west toward the ocean, from the highway, but we found ourselves on a road that ran along a marshy, estuary instead... for miles.  It was called Rhododendron Dr. and we thought it would take us to the ocean. When it finally dead ended we had to make a decision. We turned toward the west again, hoping that the ocean would be somewhere out there (I was sure we couldn't miss it.) and that we would reach it before dark. This road was called N. Jetty Rd but it headed west.
Finally we saw water.

This was not the ocean. It was still the estuary but it was a wonderful tidal area with shallow land and water... and quite a few interesting birds. We decided to stop and set up our tripods.

There were lots of crows that seemed more interested in their reflections than us.

They didn't even seem very curious. They just walked around looking for free food, then walked away acting annoyed, that we didn't give them something delicious. We did give them some pieces of bread but this was obviously not enough.
These crows, and some seagulls, started landing and hanging around. Some folks on the sand had started a fire and I guess the birds thought there might be food. All the birds were hanging around, hoping for some kind of offering.
This is when I spotted this seagull.

It seemed kind of old. Its eyes looked tired. This was a seagull that had a worldly look to it. I noticed that it seems to be by itself. It stood out. No other birds bothered this one. It kept looking toward the west as if it was waiting for the sun to set. This was a bird of many sunsets. This seagull understood things. I felt an affinity to it.

Then another seagull, oblivious to some invisible territorial perimeters. flew in and joined the group.

 This bird was prettier, younger looking, had similar coloring... but made the mistake of getting too close to the old bird.

That's when...(I'm going to call her Florence),  Flo started getting annoyed.
She flew into the air.

Angled around behind the unsuspecting seagull...

Made a big, "I'm the alpha boss around here." cry...

and attacked the other bird from behind.

WOW! That other seagull didn't even see it coming. I think they both got a mouthful of sand.
They both had very similar coloring. Maybe this was just a case of sibling rivalry. Maybe not.
 All I do know is, that this other bird flew to an alternative location, not too far away, to nurse its wounds and watch the sunset at a safe distance.
Ever have one of those days when you just aren't feeling OK about anything? When no matter how nice or quiet.. or non committal someone else is being, you just don't want anyone around. I hate to admit to this hermit like conduct, but I did recognize it in the intolerant attitude of this old seagull. For myself, I can't blame it on menopause, hot flashes or  lack of estrogen. I'm beyond all of that. It's just old age, impulsive behavior. I don't know what Florence's problem was, but the behavior was familiar and mirrored my own. Mind you, I have never struck anyone from behind or pushed them into the sand, but it was an enlightening moment.

 Flo folded her wings, looked around, and settled in to watch the sunset. She had done what needed to be done, I suppose, to maintain her position. It was a matter of territory and she had taken care of business.
Flo... you and I need to talk. That was a bit of an over reaction, girl.

"D" and I took many photos of the birds and then we drove on to find the ocean. We drove to the end of the road and it was getting dark. There were a couple of cars in the parking area so we parked and set up the tripods again. The sun was ready to drop into the Pacific Ocean but it was still a long walk to the beach from where we parked. The car was up near that watch tower in the photo below.

That's "D" taking shots of the sand dunes and checking her settings.That's my shadow on the right.
It was getting cold but the color of the reflected sun on everything was warm and beautiful.

 This view is looking north. The ocean was out, over the sand dunes, to the left.

 This photo below, is the grass moving in the wind. Amazing how it holds on in the sandy soil. I love the last light on the grasses.

This is the same photo that I did some post production work on in Picasa, my photo storage and editing program.

Which do you like the best? I'm curious. They both have a very different feel.

The area was getting darker and the color around us was becoming deeper and more lovely.

 The sand shadows changed with each second creating moving artwork and endless opportunities.

 The old driftwood log pointed to the illusive beach, but we thought it safer to watch from this area that was closer to the car.

 Below... footprints create a moonscape on the sand.

 And finally the long awaited sunset.

More clouds would have made for a better photo but the sky was beautiful and we were thankful for a place this beautiful, to watch the lovely "remains of the day".