Foggy Sunrises over Rifle Range Road

Canola Field at Sunrise

A canola field outside Electra. 

Information about canola in Wikipedia.

Squirrel in a Box

     Living with squirrels means that occasionally I have to put down my book and watch their behavior in the trees. One squirrel decided to move into a bird box I placed between two tree trunks. Hopping in only when in rained, these days, the squirrel spends every evening in the box, and even moved in some soft material. It wouldn't surprise me if the material came from my neighbors' pool chair pillows.

Image-captures of squirrels can become endless. Here is one of a squirrel eating buds.

Lake Wichita

Old postcard-look for the lake as it looks this month. 

Sun Dog Through Window

Henbit

     Lamium amplexicaul is important for honey bees. And for humans, Wikipedia says that it is edible, with a peppery taste. When Lita mentioned that she enjoyed seeing the henbit, I stopped by for a quick shot and then printed a copy for her.

Cecily Maples

Cecily Maples' ceramics on exhibit in Lubbock. Exquisite work. Visit her on Etsy.

Poetry: Cold Bold

Twenty degrees Farenheit outside.
My fingers feel cold and painful.
I stare at my cockpit wondering
if my plane will start in this temp.

I wonder, too, if I should fly today

with the winds rushing from the north
at twenty-five knots gusting to thirty.
Is my decision to fly today dumb?

And how dumb? A saying starts

rattling in my head, There are bold
pilots and there are old pilots;
but there are no old bold pilots.

I blow warm air on my fingers,

my mind on the conditions of flight,
clear from here to the other side
of the skies but cold and windy.

Just another nice day for a pilot.

Sunny, no ice, no storms,
no lightning – is it a nice day
to fly with an old pilot, Beatrice?

I spot a car driving past my wing,

its occupant – a pilot, stares at me,
wondering, I’m sure, Why is she
flying in this temp, this wind?

Perhaps, I ponder, he’ll drive back

to tell me, Don’t go fly in this stuff!
The car makes a 180-degree turn,
stops by my wing. Its window

rolls down a little bit, revealing

a pilot’s eyes. Are you just sitting
in your airplane or are you gonna fly?
I was disappointed that he did not

tell me to go home, stay warm.

I opened my window and said,
I am actually going to fly, sounding
a bit bold to myself, a bit bold –

Really, I yearn for respect, I yearn
for other pilots to say of me, Damn she’s
a good pilot – and old, too, very old.
Then, he said, I’ll close your fuel door for you.

I wave from my cockpit, blushing –

look at my instruments as if
for the first time – and it is
the first time I will fly so cold, so bold.

Clear the prop – I say to no one.

They are all inside their offices
and homes warm, safe, sipping coffee
while I turn the key to start my plane

and manage my RPMs. My cellphone

lights up with a text from Beatrice.
Are we still gonna fly? she says from
her airport, fifty cold, windy miles away –

Yes, I reply, wondering about myself

being so bold this morning (so bold!)
hoping she will say, Let’s be old —
it’s too cold and too windy today –

She asks, Are you okay with these winds?

Why, yes, I say, surprised that I am
so bold yet still hoping she’ll say, Well,
I’m not. So don’t take off, don’t fly today.

It’s the computer in my plane –

it won’t come on, I say with glee.
The computer malfunction will
keep me on the ground – Give it

a few minutes, she says, it takes

a while in this temp to come on.
Monitors in my cockpit power up.
She hasn’t said to me, hey, let’s

not fly in this cold and this wind.

My cellphone lights up. Here it is,
I say to myself. She’ll tell me to stay.
Do you have a heater in your plane?
                                              - E B Hawley

Snowy Footprints on Concrete

By Helicopter, F14 to OUN

Women of India

Sardar Market Kirdikot.

Kajuraho.

Umaid Said Hotel.

Dehli.

Ranakpur.

At a restaurant outside Ranakpur.

Sardar Market.

At Humayum's tomb.

Sardar Market.

I am looking outside from Humayum's tomb.

Erosion

Sunrise and Trees

White-crowned Sparrow

Yellow-crowned Warbler

Yellow-crowned Warbler.

Juncos, Male and Female

Various Ducks and an Olive-sided Flycatcher

     Many ducks benefit by the recent rains, eating and resting at the ponds that now have water. Sneaking up closer to the ducks, I managed to take a few pictures of them that now serve as a reminder to me of a wonderful experience watching them and looking at the ponds survive a drought. 

      In addition to the ducks shown below, I spotted four Black-bellied Whistling ducks, Red-headed ducks, Killdeer, Lesser Yellowlegs, Loggerhead shrikes, Mockingbirds, Meadowlarks, Goldfinches, Bluebirds, Kestrel, a large flock of Canada geese overhead, White-crowned sparrows, Lark sparrows, and what so far I think were Song sparrows.

An Olive-sided flycatcher catching insects that float on the surface.

 Female Bufflehead.

Male and female Buffleheads.

Gadwall appearing comfortable with me sitting in the brush watching her.

A Green-winged Teal kept an eye on me, ready to launch if I moved. I held my breath.

Ring-necked ducks viewed through branches around the pond. This pond is surrounded by thick brush, and though it provides a nice cover, I have to wait for the ducks to float to just the right spots.

Northern Shoveler. 

       A large group of shovelers and teals rested on the surface and in the grasses that had grown tall when the pond dried.

About Two Hundred Ducks

     Happily, the land appears to heal with the help of the autumn rains. The ponds have enough water to see us through the winter. The migratory birds have noticed and stopped by for a while. We spotted (rather startled) about two or more hundred ducks, including mallards, predominantly, pintails, shovelers, and teals.
     One of my wishes for the new year is to see more green foliage growing around the trunks of trees, such as the ones I show in the photos below.