Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
When I visited Mount Rainier National Park in the fall of 2008, I saw more pikas on the the Pinnacle Peak Trail than I’d ever seen on a single trail before. It would only be a slight exaggeration to say I saw more pikas on that hike than I had seen in my entire life until then. They weren’t all close to the trail, the talus fields are extensive and often lead far from the trail, but some of them were close enough for pictures, including this pika that popped out of a rock wall near sunset.
Bison are the easiest of the big mammals to see in most of Yellowstone as they sometimes hang out in large groups near the road. They generally leave people alone but seem so docile that inevitably someone will get too close and end up getting hurt. It’s not so easy to underestimate them on the trails, however, where it’s hard to ignore their size and speed. And of course the horns. You are in their domain and there is no car to retreat to.
This was one of a group of bulls that was coming in my direction on the Storm Point Trail. While you are supposed to stay on the trails in Yellowstone, I decided to let the bulls have the right-of-way and stepped into the meadow. However, they soon veered off the trail themselves to go for a romp in the wallows so I was able to safely continue down the trail.
This was the first time I had seen a muskrat out of the water, even from a distance I was startled to see how long and white its claws were. Taken in a quiet backwater channel on the Kiwa Trail at Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge.
Scout sniffs the trellis where the clematis will eventually grow. The catnip in front of her was one of her favorite spots in the yard. It grew pretty well when Templeton was the only one eating it, but once Scout acquired a taste for its pleasures, it never grew much above the height it’s at now. It eventually died completely when some of the neighborhood cats completely smothered it, but once I blocked off their access a few years later by sealing off the bottom of the fence, a couple of volunteer catnip plants immediately took root and are now growing strong and tall once more.
Fence lizards come in a variety of shades from light to dark, but most of the lizards I saw at Smith Rock on this hike had this light coloring. I don’t know if it is genetically more common or if it leads to higher survival rates by enabling the lizards to better blend in with the lightly colored rocks in the park.
It amuses me that a bird that tries so hard not to be seen has a call that can be heard from so far away. The bittern has a distinctive ooomm-ka-chooom call that is one of my favorite sounds of the marsh, it reminds me more of a gurgling swamp than a bird. In this picture it has spread its throat out, sending out its call across the marsh.
📷: Canon 20D | Canon 500mm f/4 | Canon 1.4X
🗓️: May 10, 2009
A great blue heron perches on a downed tree as its shadow is cast over the green water. Even though it was actively scanning and listening for movement in the water below, its perch seemed too high to have a chance at capturing any frogs or fish, so it may have been in reconnaissance mode. It eventually started hunting closer to the water.
A good man could walk by a scene like this without reaching in to give the kitten a belly rub and risk waking him in the process.
A good man, and a better man than me.
We’ve made some big progress on the Ellie front over the past couple of weeks — we’ve started giving her occasional free reign in the off-leash section of the park just a hop-skip-and-jump from our home. We leave her leash attached to make it easier to corral her when necessary, as she sometimes gets rather excited and her ears stop working. For a dog her size, she runs really fast and can overwhelm smaller dogs or run into stationary dogs or people.
But it’s still a big step forward, it wasn’t that long ago that we weren’t sure she’d ever be allowed off-leash, even for a moment. She got loose once in the early days and had no concept of the danger of streets or cars, and wasn’t coming back when called. We’ve been working hard on her stopping and waiting for permission to cross the street, and on her learning to heel and to come. She’s gotten good enough (when treats are proffered, of course) that we let her have some play time when we’re comfortable with the other dogs (and owners) who are around.
Templeton loved his outside time and if he wasn’t exploring the sights and smells of the backyard, he’d usually sprawl out in the grass for a catnap. But he also liked being in high places and couldn’t resist the occasional climb to higher elevations to survey the kingdom. This was especially true if I was enjoying a bowl of cereal at the table, he’d wait until I was distracted and then the sounds of slurping would bring me back to attention, Templeton face down and going to town on the milk.
Oh how I loved you little one.
Boolie 