That was a particularly good day. That was Sunday (March 17). The skies were grey for 4 or 5 days before that. We got very lucky that all of the overcast went away and left only the kinds of clouds that enhance photos.
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The Relaxed Photo Thread
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That was a particularly good day. That was Sunday (March 17). The skies were grey for 4 or 5 days before that. We got very lucky that all of the overcast went away and left only the kinds of clouds that enhance photos.
So did some digging to find my images of the Sand Dune Arch. This was my best but does not do a rather difficult subject justice.
When tripping back to 2014 I also rediscovered this image of the old power house on Crowsnest Lake. The stack had already been demolished and it wasn't long after this that the structure was also demolished.
When tripping back to 2014 I also rediscovered this image of the old power house on Crowsnest Lake. The stack had already been demolished and it wasn't long after this that the structure was also demolished.
Switching things again, here are a couple of photos of cameras. One shows the difference between my Olympus E-5 dSLR and ZD SHG 35-100mm f/2.0 and the Panasonic GH3 mirrorless body with Panasonic 35-100mm f/2.8. The other photo shows the Olympus ZD SHG 35-100mm f/2.0 on the Panasonic GM5, which you can barely see.
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It is a difficult subject. I could not get excited by any of the images I shot. I like this from-the-top perspective. I imagine getting up there was not to hard but getting down that slope under the arch could not have been fun. When we were there, my son and I had to help someone get down.
It's been ten years and I was more agile back then. But to my best recollection, it was a minor scramble to get just high enough to get that perspective. My rock climbing days are but a distant memory, so I doubt that I took any serious risks.
When we were there, that slope behind the arch (which is at a relatively steep angle) was completely covered with damp sand. It was a bit hairy.
For sure it was bare and dry when I visited. Makes a world of difference. Still I was only able to get a few feet above the ground.
I have a story. It's kind of a long one, I'm afraid. I hope I'm not mis-interpreting the thread.
FOR THE BIRDS
by lkalliance
When I was a young lad, my father brought home a parakeet. We named him "Cougie," and Dad picked the name because it was mostly sounds that parakeets can pick up easily. We loved Cougie, my brothers and I. He would ride around on our shoulders, and he was at ease around everyone. We never clipped his wings, he had the run of the house. When the family sat around the dinner table, Cougie would wander around, picking food off of peoples' plates. Every night, we would cover up his cage, turn out the lights, and someone would sit in the kitchen with him, repeating slowly and clearly whatever phrase we wanted to teach him.
I have no pictures of Cougie.
I'd like to add an emotional heft to the story by suggesting it's because I did something stupid that led to Coupe's demise (true) and that I have spent my life living it down (not true) and thus I have burned all the photos of him (definitely not true). I think it's because this was 1977 or so, and we just didn't have anyone that was spending a lot of time on photography, and no iPhones to just whip out at a moment's notice.
BUT...
...years later, my wife and I had an obstacle: she was allergic to dogs, I was allergic to cats. Our solution? Our solution was Blue.
Blue was named such because we thought it was funny to name a green parakeet Blue. In fact that was one of the first things we taught him to say: "I'm GREEN." With attitude. He also could say "Hello there," and "Blue bird," and "Pain in the butt."
My daughter learned to interact with Blue as well.
Blue was with us for several years, until he passed. He was a great parakeet.
But there was someone else coming on the horizon...
FOR THE BIRDS
by lkalliance
When I was a young lad, my father brought home a parakeet. We named him "Cougie," and Dad picked the name because it was mostly sounds that parakeets can pick up easily. We loved Cougie, my brothers and I. He would ride around on our shoulders, and he was at ease around everyone. We never clipped his wings, he had the run of the house. When the family sat around the dinner table, Cougie would wander around, picking food off of peoples' plates. Every night, we would cover up his cage, turn out the lights, and someone would sit in the kitchen with him, repeating slowly and clearly whatever phrase we wanted to teach him.
I have no pictures of Cougie.
I'd like to add an emotional heft to the story by suggesting it's because I did something stupid that led to Coupe's demise (true) and that I have spent my life living it down (not true) and thus I have burned all the photos of him (definitely not true). I think it's because this was 1977 or so, and we just didn't have anyone that was spending a lot of time on photography, and no iPhones to just whip out at a moment's notice.
BUT...
...years later, my wife and I had an obstacle: she was allergic to dogs, I was allergic to cats. Our solution? Our solution was Blue.
Blue was named such because we thought it was funny to name a green parakeet Blue. In fact that was one of the first things we taught him to say: "I'm GREEN." With attitude. He also could say "Hello there," and "Blue bird," and "Pain in the butt."
My daughter learned to interact with Blue as well.
Blue was with us for several years, until he passed. He was a great parakeet.
But there was someone else coming on the horizon...
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FOR THE BIRDS
chapter 2
Meet Hatch.
Hatch was our dusky conure. Since I research things endlessly, I read and read and thought and thought while I decided what species of bird to get. I picked correctly. Dusky conures are the bomb.
Hatch came to us because we felt ready to graduate. He was sweet, he would tap his beak against your fingernail, he would let you kiss his beak.
And he got along FAMOUSLY with my daughter...
That photo appeared in Bird Talk magazine, in an article about parrot play, and just brings a tear to my eye. One, because here's Hatch at his happiest, and two, my daughter will never be six years old again.
*sniff*
Hatch loved to be nuzzled and groomed. When new parrot feathers grow in, they are encased in a stiff protective cylinder. Gently rubbing those off is something that birds do for each other, and parrot owners can do that too, to help bond with their companions.
Unlike Cougie and Blue, I did clip Hatch's wings. It was a tough choice, but it did allow me to take him outside.
Hatch was a wonderful companion, particularly after my divorce. Parrots absolutely require interaction, and that was important to me psychologically.
Unfortunately, as you may tell from the past tense, Hatch is no longer with me. He didn't blend well with my new family when I came to Minnesota. I found him a different loving home. But I missed him. And my girlfriend knew I missed him. And so she did something about it...
chapter 2
Meet Hatch.
Hatch was our dusky conure. Since I research things endlessly, I read and read and thought and thought while I decided what species of bird to get. I picked correctly. Dusky conures are the bomb.
Hatch came to us because we felt ready to graduate. He was sweet, he would tap his beak against your fingernail, he would let you kiss his beak.
And he got along FAMOUSLY with my daughter...
That photo appeared in Bird Talk magazine, in an article about parrot play, and just brings a tear to my eye. One, because here's Hatch at his happiest, and two, my daughter will never be six years old again.
*sniff*
Hatch loved to be nuzzled and groomed. When new parrot feathers grow in, they are encased in a stiff protective cylinder. Gently rubbing those off is something that birds do for each other, and parrot owners can do that too, to help bond with their companions.
Unlike Cougie and Blue, I did clip Hatch's wings. It was a tough choice, but it did allow me to take him outside.
Hatch was a wonderful companion, particularly after my divorce. Parrots absolutely require interaction, and that was important to me psychologically.
Unfortunately, as you may tell from the past tense, Hatch is no longer with me. He didn't blend well with my new family when I came to Minnesota. I found him a different loving home. But I missed him. And my girlfriend knew I missed him. And so she did something about it...
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FOR THE BIRDS
chapter last
I'd often told my girlfriend how fondly I remembered our bird feeder in New York. Birds east of the Rockies seem more colorful than those in California where I lived most of my life. We lived on property that backed onto a small forest, and our bird feeder would constantly attract cardinals and blue jays and chickadees and titmice. I never had that success on the West Coast.
So now she bought me a flat feeder to put out on our deck, to see what we could attract. And since we attracted many squirrels, of course I had to go back to the drawing board and design something better. Something like this...
Welcome to Finchley Central. At any given time I probably have four or five different kinds of food for different kinds of birds. And since I worked weekends at a wild bird supplies store, I knew better how to discourage squirrels. Finchley Central has, over its lifetime, had many different feeders come and go. And we've always been well-attended.
We've had common birds like goldfinches...
Cardinals...
Blue jays...
chickadees and downy woodpeckers...
red-bellied woodpeckers...
nuthatches and more.
I keep my Canon sitting right near the window, so I'm ready at a moment's notice if something comes to the feeder. Sometimes it's something unusual. Rose-breasted grosbeaks are common birds, but I rarely get them...
I don't have worms for Robins, but they love to come and bathe in the summer...
Sometimes I get something I only see once. This Summer Tanager was waaaaaaaay out of her normal territory.
And every few years we get red-breasted nuthatches from the north, if they have a food shortage up there.
Rarely we will get a pileated woodpecker, and even more rarely a Northern Flicker:
chapter last
I'd often told my girlfriend how fondly I remembered our bird feeder in New York. Birds east of the Rockies seem more colorful than those in California where I lived most of my life. We lived on property that backed onto a small forest, and our bird feeder would constantly attract cardinals and blue jays and chickadees and titmice. I never had that success on the West Coast.
So now she bought me a flat feeder to put out on our deck, to see what we could attract. And since we attracted many squirrels, of course I had to go back to the drawing board and design something better. Something like this...
Welcome to Finchley Central. At any given time I probably have four or five different kinds of food for different kinds of birds. And since I worked weekends at a wild bird supplies store, I knew better how to discourage squirrels. Finchley Central has, over its lifetime, had many different feeders come and go. And we've always been well-attended.
We've had common birds like goldfinches...
Cardinals...
Blue jays...
chickadees and downy woodpeckers...
red-bellied woodpeckers...
nuthatches and more.
I keep my Canon sitting right near the window, so I'm ready at a moment's notice if something comes to the feeder. Sometimes it's something unusual. Rose-breasted grosbeaks are common birds, but I rarely get them...
I don't have worms for Robins, but they love to come and bathe in the summer...
Sometimes I get something I only see once. This Summer Tanager was waaaaaaaay out of her normal territory.
And every few years we get red-breasted nuthatches from the north, if they have a food shortage up there.
Rarely we will get a pileated woodpecker, and even more rarely a Northern Flicker:
But my favorite time is oriole season. Orioles are not only vibrant, they have the most beautiful call. Simple, but pure liquid and clear.
For about a month, from mid-May to mid-June, we get orioles all day. They are not peaceful birds...they will come in multiples and will fight over who gets to go first. Some days it's just one after another.
This story is ongoing. It started with my first bird, Cougie, and lives on in my closeness to the wild visitors to our deck. In June, Finchley Central celebrates its tenth anniversary!
We are open 24 hours a day...
..and all year round.
So tell all your feathered friends, I would be very pleased to welcome them into my extended family too, and to be a part of the story.
Only, be careful. Sometimes it's not the safest neighborhood.
For about a month, from mid-May to mid-June, we get orioles all day. They are not peaceful birds...they will come in multiples and will fight over who gets to go first. Some days it's just one after another.
This story is ongoing. It started with my first bird, Cougie, and lives on in my closeness to the wild visitors to our deck. In June, Finchley Central celebrates its tenth anniversary!
We are open 24 hours a day...
..and all year round.
So tell all your feathered friends, I would be very pleased to welcome them into my extended family too, and to be a part of the story.
Only, be careful. Sometimes it's not the safest neighborhood.
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You've interpreted one of the intents of the thread perfectly. And thanks for attaching as thumbnails. Makes it so easy to view all the images at or near full resolution.
Lovely images, accompanied by heartwarming stories. You've made my evening!
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Some shots taken on the Salt River north of Globe, AZ in March of 1990. Part of my film digitizing project this past winter. Originally shot with a throwaway Kodak waterproof camera. Kodacolor 400 film.
