Boolie

A Little Quiet

If things get a little quiet around here for the next month, it’s because I signed up for NaNoWriMo again this year. I reached the 50,000 word goal the previous two times I participated in 2005 and 2009 but I think it’s unlikely I’ll get that far this year. Partly because in previous years I had a better idea of what I wanted to write and partly because there are other things I’d like to do this month, especially taking pictures, editing pictures, and updating my site. Goodness am I behind.

And partly because I haven’t been sleeping as well lately and am often tired at the end of the day, normally my favorite time to write. The other day I fell asleep as soon as I finished eating dinner, for a night owl like me that’s rather embarrassing so let’s just keep that between us, shall we.

In the meantime enjoy this lovely mountain stream flowing over moss-covered rocks, taken on the trail above Wahkeena Falls in the Columbia River Gorge. I went hiking a couple of times in the Gorge in the weeks before my Wyoming trip, trying to get myself back in hiking shape while lugging the camera gear around.

Baby Horns

I love, love, love the tiny little horns of a bison calf and finally had the chance for a close-up in the Tetons.

Ring in Red

A male ring-necked duck swims through duckweed in Bower Slough.

Who Am I?

Children hold me tight to calm their fears at night,
but if I draw too close adults are filled with fright.

Truth

In my many years and many travels, I’ve encountered only one universally accepted truth, one thing everyone agrees on, and that is this — when even Scout won’t sleep in her warm bed, it’s hot.

We had a lovely cool and wet spring here in the Northwest and escaped the summer with but a few hot days at the end. Scout is such a creature of habit that she likes to sleep in her warm bed no matter the temperature, so as the weather warms I unplug it to extend her comfort as long as possible. This picture is from one of those hot days in early September when she stepped out of the bed behind her and lay down on the cooler desk.

Recently I noticed that the bed doesn’t seem to be heating up anymore, even when plugged in, which puts us on the horn of a dilemma: do we leave it as is, knowing it won’t keep her as warm during the winter, or swap it out for a functional one but risk upsetting her routine?

For now we’re letting sleeping cats lie.

The Wet Fisher

It rained, then poured. The king and I, we waited.

New Hedgehogs

I needed new hiking shoes and when I saw that The North Face had a model named Hedgehogs, I took this as a sign from God. The problem with signs, though, is how to interpret them. Was this a sign that they would bring me as much happiness as Ellie’s hedgehogs bring her? Or a sign that she would chew my Hedgehogs as mercilessly as she chews hers?

Ever the optimist I gambled on the former and so far, so good. I’m still breaking them in, REI didn’t have them in my normal size of 9.5 but half a size larger seems to be working OK. I wore them outside for the first time today on our evening walk, I’ll probably give them more of a workout in the Gorge this weekend to see how they do on hills. Plus I need to ease my body back into hiking if I’m going to take a big hiking trip late this month as I usually do.

Run For Your Lives! It’s the Vampire Dog!

Fortunately for our household, her favorite prey is hedgehogs. Not just hedgehogs, but baby hedgehogs.

The Revenge of Yuri Andropov

I recently had a nightmare where I was living in a Soviet dacha and when I looked out the front window, saw a group of locals gathering to do me harm. But they were disorganized and in no hurry and had primitive weapons, farming tools mostly, so I was concerned but not overly so. Yet with each passing minute more people would arrive, better organized and better armed, and my anxiety began to escalate.

The KGB arrived with the night and began planting explosives at the front of the house. I knew I had to get out fast and without even taking the time to find my shoes ran out the backdoor. I hoped to creep through a maze of shadows to safety but was shocked to find the street lit as brightly by street lamps as if by the mid-day sun. I cursed the efficiency of the Soviet state and woke up.

At first angry at my subconscious for torturing me so, I soon burst out laughing. The efficient Soviet state? Was I the victim of a failed plot by Yuri Andropov, head of the KGB before his short stint as head of the Soviet Union, to plant subliminal propaganda into the dreams of American youth during the height of the Cold War?

Only perhaps the plot was not failed but delayed and I wondered if other middle-aged Americans were waking to the praises of a long-dead empire.

But apparently not. Sorry Yuri.

Blue on Blue

I laughed while editing this picture when I realized I spent more time with this young great blue heron during the winter and spring than any other being not living in my house. Alas it wasn’t true, I spent much more time with my friends at work, but true enough.

It’s rare that I get to know a particular bird, even visiting Ridgefield so consistently it is difficult to be sure a bird I see one day is the same one I saw in the same location previously. But this juvenile never strayed far from Horse and Long Lakes during the winter and spring. It was fun to see it learn the ropes, avoiding the territory of the older herons, fleeing the madness and mayhem that wandering too close to a red-winged blackbird nest brings.

Sometimes I just watched rather than take pictures, these lakes can draw a crowd as they sit at the start of the auto tour. And bringing out the big lens can attract even more attention, too much of which might cause the heron to take flight. But on this early morning in late February we were alone, the young blue heron in the soft blue light, giving me a look I had long hoped for.