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121 in 2021
17. Cloudscape
Blue skies appeared momentarily on my walk around Cholesbury Common on my walk last week
A migratory bird that is famous for appearing just before the start of the rainy season. In the countryside, people still predict rains by its sightings. It migrates all the way to Africa and comes back to India just in time for the rains and of course, the breeding season.
This is a brood parasite and lays its eggs in other birds nests. It would eat one of the hosts eggs and drop its own in them. This bird prefers Bulbuls, both Red Vented and White throated, tailorbird etc.. for hosts - all of these birds are in their nesting season now.
Last weekend, I saw 6 of them to my surprise - all were active and hunting caterpillars in the bushes adjacent to the embankment road. They were flying around slowly picking up food from various bushes and maybe surveying the area.
Thank you so much in advance for your views and feedback.
It was supposed to warm up today, but no.... it stayed at -18C through most of the day. On the way for groceries, I noticed it was so cold that the creek appeared to be steaming.
it appears we now have pulled out of the drought zone and burn bans, now if we can just dry out for a few days.
Little ribbons appear again, happily curled around this tiny red bottle I found at an opp shop earlier in the year.
🎆🎇🎉🎄🎋🎀🎁👗💋♥♦🎷🎻🎺🏩🌜🌞🌛🌟⭐❤❣💓🔆
For this weeks (19-Dec-2022) Macro Mondays 'Festive Season' theme 🎄🎅
Have a lovely Monday and stay nice and cozy everyone.
🐱🐉👽😻🐸🐴🐘🐠🐟🐙🐓🐧
Lens: Pentacon 50mm f1.8
_MG_7027-1
The copper colours are beginning to appear and the woodland floor now turned into a carpet of fallen leaves, brings to me in my eyes the ending of Autumn. I missed most of it when at its peak but caught some keepers I feel at the beginning of the Autumn cycle.
This image in question is hiding a lot of deforesting or as I call it devastation, as the lined up Logs in this scene is just a fraction of what lays around the corner.
Sad as this woodland path is one, I have photographed a lot in all seasons, and it has given me some wonderful images over the last year or so.
The telephoto lens giving a nice depth of field and some wonderful last colours of the season bringing for me my autumn cycle to a near end.
Still have a couple of fall images to post and I have post processed some from winter last year already to post up soon, so watch this space.
SUNSET - Florida Everglades
Palm Beach County, Florida USA
Spring 2020 - June 9th, 2020
As the sun dropped down, she only wanted us to see a glimpse
of her through her red-veiled glow. She never actually came
out...but we all knew she was back there! Thanks for looking.
*[left-double-click for a closer-look]
Sunbeam cars first appeared in 1901 and, from the outset, were involved with racing, competition and land speed record attempts. Bought out by the Rootes brothers, the name Sunbeam was then linked with Talbot until 1954, the year this car was built.
Based on the Hillman but with better performance, Sunbeam was the sportiest of the Rootes Group’s range. The Mk IIA had engine refinements and ventilated holes in the wheels to help cool the enlarged brakes. The flowing lines of the bonnet and wings were aerodynamically designed and wind noise was reduced to a minimum. The standard column mounted gear change was so unreliable that dealers offered customers free conversion to floor change.
Sunbeams were popular as rally and competition cars, with successes in the Monte Carlo and Alpine rallies. In production from 1952 to 1954, only 9,708 of this model were made.
This blue 1954 Sunbeam Talbot 90 Mk. IIA, TYJ341, is on display at Haynes Motor Museum.
The first stars are appearing, almost completely dark, this was the last shot before I started preparing for my first astrophotography experience.
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Haida CPOL / Haida 3 stops ND / Haida 3 stops Soft Grad
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Appearing similar to Union Pacific passenger train No. 104, the "City of Los Angeles", an ILACB 22 officer special departs the UP passenger station in Salt Lake City, Utah with 12 cars the morning of August 23, 1993.
Leading the train were a trio of Paducah, Kentucky rebuilt E-units, repowered with GP38-2 prime movers, making them essentially "E38-2" locos, although nobody wanted to called them that.
The trio suffered power troubles climbing the grade through Weber Canyon east of Ogden that day, and were required to make several stops and tinker with the prime movers.
More wabi-sabi, and yet another tulip; there appears to be no end to these tulips, as I've got another dozed or so in this batch, and two more batches coming up right behind them!
What I like here is the way the petals seem to almost swirl around the curving stem, as if it were doing the twist, pointing to the two top corners, and those blue "eyes" in the pistils.
The result of a multi-image focus stack, this image should reward pretty close examination. Maximum viewing size on your computer can be found by opening the image in a separate window, making that window maximum size, typing the letter "L" on the keyboard, and then clicking the cursor as long as a '+' appears in it, typically twice.
If you find this image to your liking, you can find more wabi-sabi - and an account of my understanding of the meaning of that term - in my wabi-sabi album, more tulips in my Tulips album, and more dancing flowers in my Tiny Dancers album.
BTW, I've taken to putting a white rim around these images on black because, on my iPhone flickr app, it is otherwise difficult to discern the image's edges. I made it tiny because, while large mats look lovely on my desktop monitor, they make it hard for my tired old eyes to view an image on my iPhone's small screen.
“When Jesus appeared before the procurator, Pilate asked Him: "Are you the King of the Jews?" To which Jesus replied: “Yes, it is I. But you said it yourself."
And when the chief priests and elders began to accuse Jesus before Pilate, He did not say a word.
Then Pilate asked Him again: "Don't You hear all these accusations against You?".
But Jesus did not answer any of the accusations. And this greatly surprised Pilate."
It is interesting that the fresco was not called "Pilate's Trial", but "Bringing the Lord to Trial". Jesus is depicted standing before Pilate in a long white rag, over which is thrown a scarlet royal cloak - the garment in which Herod, who was judging him, mockingly dressed him before returning him to Pilate's trial. Below this fresco, in a medallion, is depicted the event of the same day preceding the arrest - "The Kiss of Judas", where Jesus is in a green cloak. Jesus was tried several times that day, and the title of the fresco "Bringing the Lord to Trial" without indicating Pilate's name is involuntarily misleading.
“Коли Ісус представ перед прокуратором, Пилат спитав Його: «Ти—Цар юдейський?» На що Ісус відповів: «Так, це Я. Але ж ти сам це сказав».
А коли головні священики й старійшини почали перед Пилатом звинувачувати Ісуса, Він не вимовив жодного слова.
Тоді Пилат знову спитав Його: «Хіба ж Ти не чуєш усі ці звинувачення проти Себе?».
Але Ісус і слова не відповів на жодне із звинувачень. І це дуже здивувало Пилата.”
Цікаво, що фреску назвали не “Суд Пілата”, а “Приведення Господа на суд”. При цьому Ісус зображений стоячи перед Пілатом у довгому білому рубищі, поверх якого накинуто червоний царський плащ - вбрання, в яке, насміхаючись над Ісусом, велів одягнути Ірод, який судив його, перед тим як повернути на суд Пілата.
Нижче цієї фрески в медальйоні зображено подію того ж дня - «Поцілунок Юди», де Ісус у зеленому плащі. Того дня Ісуса судили кілька разів і назва фрески «Приведення Господа на суд» без вказівки імені Пілата мимоволі вводить в оману.
Umi appears with one of her favorite classic artworks, The Great Wave off Kanagawa, to vividly illustrate her name.
- - - - -
Created for the Smile on Saturday theme, "What's in a Name?".
"Why are the woods so alluring? A forest appears
to a young girl one morning as she combs
the dreams out of her hair. The trees rustle
and whisper, shimmer and hiss. The forest
opens and closes, a door loose on its hinges,
banging in a strong wind. Everything in the dim
kitchen: the basin, the jug, the skillet, the churn,
snickers scornfully. In this way a maiden
is driven toward the dangers of a forest,
but the forest is our subject, not this young girl.
She’s glad to lie down with trees towering all around.
A certain euphoria sets in. She feels molecular,
bedeviled, senses someone gently pulling her hair,
tingles with kisses she won’t receive for years.
Three felled trees, a sort of chorus, narrate
her thoughts, or rather channel theirs through her,
or rather subject her to their peculiar verbal
restlessness ... our deepening need for non-being intones
the largest and most decayed tree, mid-sentence.
I’m not one of you squeaks the shattered sapling,
blackened by lightning. Their words become metallic
spangles shivering the air. Will I forget the way home?
the third blurts. Why do I feel like I’m hiding in a giant’s nostril?
the oldest prone pine wants to know. Are we being freed
from matter? the sapling asks. Insects are well-intentioned,
offers the third tree, by way of consolation. Will it grow
impossible to think a thought through to its end? gasps the sapling,
adding in a panicky voice, I’m becoming spongy! The girl
feels her hands attach to some distant body. She rises
to leave, relieved these trees are not talking about her."
-- Amy Gerstler
For a change of scenery a couple of weeks ago Judy and I decided to drive over to Norfolk for lunch and then spent the afternoon travelling along the coast and taking a few pictures.
Thornham is on the north Norfolk coast, about four miles from Hunstanton. In days gone by - before the inlet silted up - there was quite an important port which was used - among other things - to unload coal brought down the coast from Newcastle. The building on the left was used to store the coal.
The small boat appears to have had its last day at sea, and unless a substantial amount of remedial work is done it will simply become another rotting hulk on the salt marshes.
More wabi-sabi, and yet another tulip; there appears to be no end to these tulips, as there's a seemingly endless supply at the grocer's, and since I almost never throw them away, the supply just keeps growing. Indeed, I strongly suspect that at least one of these beauties has already appeared in another image in my photostream.
I think what I like most here is the way the image pulls my eyes back and forth from one blossom to the other, and then down to the dancing stems. And, of course, I'm always smitten by the texture and color of these withered flower parts.
The result of a multi-image focus stack, this image should reward pretty close examination. Maximum viewing size on your computer can be found by opening the image in a separate window, making that window maximum size, typing the letter "L" on the keyboard, and then clicking the cursor as long as a '+' appears in it, typically twice.
If you find this image to your liking, you can find more wabi-sabi - and an account of my understanding of the meaning of that term - in my wabi-sabi album, more tulips in my Tulips album, and more dancing flowers in my Tiny Dancers album.
BTW, I've taken to putting a white rim around these images on black because, on my iPhone flickr app, it is otherwise difficult to discern the image's edges. I made it tiny because, while large mats look lovely on my desktop monitor, they make it hard for my tired old eyes to view an image on my iPhone's small screen.
This bird appeared in the early light in the Point Traverse woods and the day was set. As we enter our first deep freeze of the winter here the reminders of spring migration and the seasonal warming of our part of the world seem important.
Despite having a high and complex canopy, the woods at Point Traverse have a very varied range of habitats. The birds that like to (or need to) come in low have lots of fallen trees and Red Cedars, which can make a great setting for the birds.
Sharks mouth now appears to be getting a 'punch' from fists added to the nose!
Arriving at RAF Fairford at 16.53L
3rd June 2021
This appears to be an immature Belted Whiteface. These dragonflies like to perch in between meals...
Taken 31 May 2022 at Goose Lake, Anchorage, Alaska.
As we arrived home one day, Mr Maine Coon appeared around the corner of the house, watched us get out of the car and soon found a spot among the plants to sit and contemplate for a bit.
Luckily I had taken my iPhone out with me and had it to hand.
China Poot Peak appears as the iconic inverted ice-cream cone nestling close to the other Kenai mountains and glaciers nearby. As seen across Kachemak Bay from the spit at Homer.
Taken 7 April 2023 at Homer, Alaska.
A gorgeous skipper appearing in the early morning before breakfast. There are two similar species in this area. It could be Teniorhinus ignita or Teniorhinus watsoni.
DSCN4258-BLEY-COP-BRU-SIZ55-FEA15-OPA99-FIN-CU-EXP0P60_SAAL-BR60-30_M_CM-CLA10-VAL30
The male partner of this pair of leopards appeared to be slightly distracted. The female was determined to get his attention, and crawled into his lap, pushing herself into his body. I was lucky to capture this unusual moment in their courtship, trying for a bit more depth of field to get both animals in focus.
90005 'Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson' came to the rescue of 70008 working 6H51 Hardendale – Tunstead. The 70 appeared to have failed around the Shap area and they are seen passing Winwick at around sunset time. The working changed to 4Z51 1512 Shap - Crewe Basford Hall 09/02/21.
Junior appears to be looking at the length of the horns on the head honcho and wondering if his horns will every get that large. It’s going to take him a while, but he does have a good start. A young Texas Longhorn walks toward me in a pasture in the southern part of Harris County.
DDF_6477uls
They say she appears only when winter grows weary of pretending to be gentle.
Her gown is woven from frost and fallen snow, her mask carved from ice so precise it knows the exact shape of secrets. Behind intricate filigree, her eyes hold the weight of a thousand silent storms.
No one knows who she was before the cold claimed her—or if she was ever anything but winter incarnate. Some say she's a warning. Others, a wish made by someone who wanted to feel nothing at all.
She moves through the forest without sound, leaving only questions in her wake.
What transforms a woman into a season?
And can she ever thaw?
A red sky appears when dust and small particles are trapped in the atmosphere by high pressure. This scatters blue light leaving only red light to give the sky its notable appearance. A red sky at sunset means high pressure is moving in from the west, so therefore the next day will usually be dry and pleasant.
Looking west, Hemyock, Devon, UK
Explored 16th June 2022.
I set out on a daytrip to dodge the rain and shoot with three cameras I almost never use. First was the Graflex RB, Series B - a boxy 1947 2x3 120 shooter. Second was a Baby Graflex, also a 2x3. And finally, my normal Crown Graphic with a 6x7 120 roll back. I also shot the Crown with regular 4x5 sheets.
Since I wasn't used to shooting with these cameras in these ways, it was a very frustrating shooting day. Despite that, I had such a wonderful time. I mapped out the trip to explore roads that I had never been one, while hitting a few towns that I've visited many times before. It was a lovely combination of old and new.
I traveled through three (and sort of four) counties: Franklin (and a bit of Adams), Whitman, and Columbia. I've divided this little zine to reflect that. The photos are mostly in chronological order.
The stars here are the lenses and the skies. I can't believe my fortune with the skies. The light cooperated much of the day, appearing along with abandoned houses, old cemeteries and empty fields. Though the shooting was difficult, the views came easy, and the photos, I think, reflect this.
The zine, if you are so interested, is available by following links in my bio.
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Camera: Graflex RB, Series B; 2x3
Lens: Kodak Ektar 4.5/127mm
Film: Shanghai 100
Process: HC-110B; 8min
Whitman County, Washington
October 2021
IMPORTANT: for non-pro users who read the anecdote on a computer, just enlarge your screen to 120% (or more), then the full text will appear below the photo with a white background - which makes reading so much easier.
My best photos (mostly not on Flickr) are here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
The photo above is far from perfect - believe me, I'm aware. But I'm still very proud of the shot: because getting it was such an excruciatingly long process that it drove me to the brink of insanity. I'm afraid the anecdote that follows is equally long (though hopefully only half as excruciating 😉), but especially for birders it might be interesting.
To provide some context: In the winter of '23 I started feeding the birds in my garden on a huge tree trunk which I'd dragged underneath the fig tree right opposite my wooden shed. And it was through a small hole in that shed's wall that I was then able to photograph my unsuspecting avian guests from a distance of not even two meters (that's a story in and of itself, you can read all about here: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/52994208987/in/datepo... )
Using the shed as a blind was a game-changer for me; I hadn't managed to produce more than a single usable bird photo in the years before, and now within only a few weeks I succeeded in capturing most of the regular visitors to my garden (nuthatch, blue tit, great tit, marsh tit, dunnock, Italian sparrow and many more) up close and in great detail - yet I wasn't satisfied.
The reason for that was simple: the most beautiful bird in the neighborhood - a Eurasian jay - had so far eluded my camera. I was hell-bent on capturing that fella, but he stubbornly and consistently refused to play along. I'm aware not all jays of the species Garrulus glandarius are that difficult to photograph, but unlucky for me, mine was a regular diva and obvious VIB (that's short for Very Important Bird - in case you wondered 😉), and he behaved as such.
On the few occasions that Mr. Jay did grace my garden with his presence - and I could observe this through a window from the house - he would fly onto a branch of the fig tree right above my buffet for birds, sit there for maybe twenty seconds contemplating what was on display below, only to then fly away again (and I swear I could see him wrinkle his nose - or rather beak - before he took off 😉).
To be fair, it probably wasn't just the menu that didn't convince him; I'm pretty sure this jay knew something fishy (or worse: human) was going on in the shed, and my sunflower seeds and peanuts - which he could probably also get from birdhouses nearby where no paparazzi were lurking - just weren't good enough for him to be willing to take a risk.
Naturally I also tried other delicacies, ranging from fresh apples to grapes to raisins and other dried fruit, but nothing worked; Mr. VIB remained suspicious, which was more than a little frustrating.
Now at this point it might be worth mentioning what probably every birder already knows, namely that Eurasian jays are incredibly clever. If they don't want to have their picture taken and you insist, well, then it becomes a battle of wills between you and the smartest guy in the woods.
It becomes a game of chess, but one where you're up against a grandmaster: only you don't know it yet (unbeknownst to many, every insane asylum comes with a special wing that is reserved for wildlife photographers who tried to get a jay photo - the so called "Jay Wing" - where only the toughest and most experienced psychiatrists are allowed to treat the poor souls 😉).
I had no luck with the jay all winter, but I wasn't ready to give up (nor was I ready to have myself admitted to the "Jay Wing" - yet 😉). Once spring arrived, I hoped to attract Mr. Bluewings with a special treat. Growing up near a fruit orchard, I knew how much Eurasian jays loved cherries, and in May I could finally get the first fresh ones - still imports - from the store.
That timing was crucial, because the cherry trees around my village didn't bear any ripe fruit yet that could have competed with mine - though they would be soon. So there was now this very small window of time where I was able to offer our local "star" the kind of exclusive VIB-treatment that he clearly demanded.
And it worked... almost. It took a few days, during which the jay probably observed the tree trunk from afar (I imagined him with binoculars, in a trench-coat and with a fedora hat like a private eye from the 1940s 😉 ), but eventually he couldn't resist the juicy bribe, and he indeed came to collect the cherries.
The only problem was: the clever devil timed his raids on the buffet so perfectly that I was never in the shed when he did it. It was crazy, but I never even saw him from the house; once the cherries started disappearing, I just assumed it had to be him, because the other birds showed zero interest in anything other than the nuts and the seeds.
For almost a week the same story kept repeating itself (with slight variations): sometime during the day - and never at the same time - the cherries were being collected. The thief never took more than four or five, and it always happened within a time frame of around ten minutes (this I deducted because I checked the tree trunk at pretty close intervals) - and without exception during a moment when I wasn't there to witness it.
By now it was obvious that the jay had the house and the shed under constant surveillance, probably from a high vantage point up in the trees outside my garden where he could even see me through the windows, while I couldn't see him. It drove me nuts: the meticulousness and stealth with which this fella went about his cherry-thieving business were simply unreal!
He might have been a diva, but he showed incredible discipline: once he'd had his fill, he didn't come back, and the rest of the cherries remained untouched until the evening. It was hopeless: if I wasn't willing to observe the tree trunk non-stop or hire a private detective (and I admit I considered the latter for a moment 😉), it was clear I wouldn't see as much as a tail feather. But then I had an idea.
You have to know that I didn't want the bird food to be visible in my photos, so right from the start, I had put three somewhat photogenic looking logs of firewood in a little triangle on the tree trunk, and I'd always "hidden" the bird food in their midst (a bit of a cheat, I know, but all's fair in love and photography 😁).
This meant that while I could see those logs through the window from my house, I couldn't see the cherries and thus never had a visual clue when they started to go missing. The next day I put a single cherry on one of the logs, the remaining ones I put in the space between, like I had done before.
I went back into the house and made myself comfortable with my laptop on the sofa next to the window. Every once in a while I would turn my head to see whether the cherry was still there. After maybe two hours, it finally happened: A moment before I had still seen its silhouette clearly, and now the cherry had disappeared.
I jumped up and quickly (but silently) snuck into the shed where my camera was already mounted on the tripod and ready. The adrenaline started to kick in: I had no idea if my plan would work. The logic behind my idea was: if the jay went for the most exposed cherry first and was then busy for a minute or so eating it somewhere, maybe he wouldn't notice me sneak into the shed.
The suspense was nearly unbearable; sweat was dripping from my brow into my eye, and I didn't dare to move, for fear the slightest noise (like my clothes rustling) would give my position away to the jay. I looked through the viewfinder, eyes squinted, frozen like a statue, for what felt like eternity (but in reality couldn't have been more than a minute or two), when out of nowhere he appeared: the master thief materialized on one of the logs like some sort of magic trick.
And yes: it was the jay - and he looked magnificent. He made a quick movement with his head, and then he was gone. I was stunned. It all had happened so fast that I hadn't even tried to get him in focus - I just stood there, almost shocked. I had never had a chance to get a shot. A minute later, while I was still silently cursing myself, my prized bird appeared again. I fumbled on my camera - he was gone before I could do so much as adjust the direction of the lens.
I started cursing loudly now - I just couldn't help it - but the jay didn't seem to mind. Within the next three minutes he came back two more times, and all I had to show for in the end was a perfectly focused - albeit entirely birdless - photo of the logs on the tree trunk (well, that and some very nice clumps of my own hair in my hands 😆). I hoped against hope he would appear one more time, but he didn't; he'd taken his usual five cherries, and the raid was over for the day.
I have to say that despite my anger (mostly at myself), I was impressed: the speed with which my adversary acted was incredible - no wonder I had never seen him. But there was simply no way I could shoot this lightning fast creature the way I usually do, which is by selecting the smallest focus and then only aiming for the eye. If I wanted to capture Mr. Bluewings at all, I had to switch to auto and continuous shooting mode, hoping one of the photos would end up being in focus.
I enacted my new strategy the next day, and thankfully the trick with the single exposed cherry on the log worked again: the jay went for it first, and I was again able to quickly sneak into the shed, apparently undetected. As had happened the day before, Master Garrulus glandarius appeared out of nowhere - and again was gone before I could even think of pressing the trigger.
But after the third attempt, my timing was finally right; I aimed and shuttered in rapid fire as if I were working a machine gun; the camera went "trrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" (yes, that's my best imitation of that sound 😂 ), and I could see immediately how that noise irritated the jay. Weirdly enough, he seemed to be much more bothered by the camera noise than he was by my constant muttering and swearing.
This time, he didn't come back for a fifth and final cherry. But I couldn't have cared less (and as a nature lover it embarrasses me to admit this); I was in a reckless, almost feverish "hunter mode", and the only thing that mattered now was my photographic prize.
I was euphoric, because I knew I had captured the jay. Still in the shed, I immediately went through the photos, fingers trembling with excitement (I know this must sound exaggerated and very ridiculous to most people, but I bet you photographers out there know exactly what I'm talking about 😄).
My euphoria dissipated quicker than you could utter the words "Jay Wing". Even on the small camera screen it became instantly apparent the pictures were unusable. They were out of focus at best and a total blur at worst. I scanned my surroundings for a suitable object or surface where I could bash my head in. I wanted to scream (and maybe I did - my neighbors looked at me funny later that day, but then they often do that 😂).
So far it was 3:0 for the bird. I had failed at every attempt, and he had outplayed me on every level. To make matters worse, I didn't dare to apply the continuous shooting mode again: the noise was just too loud, and I was afraid I would scare the jay away for good (plus the results - due to my ineptitude - weren't likely to improve).
I was used to photographing reptiles, insects and roe deer, and none of them moved as fast as the Eurasian jay: I needed more time. Just a few seconds would have been enough, but I realized the clever bird would never give me those. The situation seemed hopeless - until I had an unexpected Eureka moment. All of a sudden I knew how I might get an extra second (or two) with Mr. VIB (provided he did come back after my loud shuttering).
The following morning I went to the tree trunk once more, and again I put a single cherry on one of the logs, but the rest - you know: the ones that I always put into the middle of this log triangle - I covered with some thin twigs. Not too many - after all, the bait had to remain visible underneath the twigs - but enough that a single picking motion wouldn't be enough to snatch a cherry.
"Your move, Mr. Jay," I thought as I went into the house. I lay down on the sofa, then I waited. The jay didn't come. All day long I regularly peered out the window: the silhouette of the lone cherry on the log remained in place, like some weird little statue, mocking me.
I became convinced the intense camera noise the previous day had disgruntled the jay to the point where he'd had enough of my shenanigans. Hard as it was, I had to get ready to accept the fact that my trophy shot of this beautiful bird just wasn't gonna happen. Then, sometime during the late afternoon, I suddenly noticed the cherry was gone. Ten seconds later I was in the shed - and ready.
The look on the jay's face when he landed on one of the logs was almost comical. He apparently hadn't noticed the twigs before, and his short moment of hesitation was all I needed to get a first shot. He heard the noise and looked right at me - click! - and that was my second shot, which nicely captured the bewildered look on his face (you can see that photo here: www.flickr.com/photos/191055893@N07/52994208987/in/datepo... ).
It only took Mr. Bluewings two seconds to adjust to the new situation; he quickly threw out a few twigs with his beak, picked up a cherry - click! (my third shot, that you can see above) - and off he flew. But it was clear the jay knew exactly he was being photographed, and he didn't like it one bit. The annoyed expression on his face had been unmistakable: he looked like Sean Penn when he's confronted with a paparazzo.
Meanwhile I was over the moon: it had worked (and a quick check on the tiny camera screen confirmed this); I had at least two acceptable photos. The few extra seconds the twigs bought me had done the trick.
All's well that ends well, as the saying goes, and if the 'Tale Of The Jay' were to conclude here (and it could), this would indeed be a happy ending. After all, I had eventually outsmarted the clever bird and gotten my desired photos. But there is a short epilogue to the story, and I believe it's worth telling (and if you made it to this point, you might as well continue reading 😉).
You see, I was only able to pull off the "single-cherry/twigs strategy" one more time (the very next day, and you can see those photos here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/post/eurasian-jay-garrulus-glan... ) - and then never again. Two days later, the single cherry was still visible on the log at nightfall, and so I assumed the jay hadn't come. But when I went to check - big surprise! - five of the other cherries were gone.
"Well," I thought, "That's pure coincidence." In my mind there was no way the jay could have realized the exposed cherry on the log disappearing was my visual clue that his stealth "attack" had started: no animal was that smart. And yet I have no other explanation, because believe it or not: he never went for the single cherry again. Ever.
In all my subsequent attempts, my visual clue remained untouched, while the jay cheekily collected the other cherries. And soon after, the cherry trees around the village were starting to bear ripe fruit, and the jay's visits to my garden stopped. In fact for the entire remainder of the year, there were no more photos for me of Mr. Garrulus glandarius.
So in the end - who REALLY won this game of chess between me and the jay? If you ask me, I'd have to call it a draw (and that's probably still being generous to myself) - but you be the judge. 😉
P.S. This year I photographed and filmed a Eurasian jay in my garden (I have no idea if it was the same fella as last year), and this clip here might give you an idea just how quick these guys are: www.youtube.com/watch?v=OA9s_bciA-Y - I timed the cherry theft: it takes the jay not even two seconds to land, snatch his prize and take off again (you can also watch it in slow-mo), so I guess I shouldn't be too hard on myself. 😂
Many thanks for looking and reading, and have a wonderful weekend everyone 🙏 😊 ❤ - and as always, let me know what you think in the comments (I'd be particularly interested if anyone had similar experiences with jays or other clever corvids - or was outsmarted by any other wild animal the way I was).
After tramping for two days on Mount Taranaki, the cloud finally cleared for this reveal just before sunset. Taken from Holly Hut on the Pouakai Crossing. I am intrigued by that very large slab-like structure near the top on the right - it looks like it may collapse at any time! Be great if anyone knows what this feature is called? (Update: I think it's called the Turtle)
"Egmont National Park is a mountainous area that encompasses three volcanic cones. The main peak of Mount Taranaki (2,518 m) forms the nucleus of the park. It is the most recent and only active volcanic peak in the park, although it is now considered dormant. Because it is considered one of the most symmetrical mountains in the world, it is a very distinctive landmark. The other two volcanic cones, which are now extinct, form the basis of the Pouakai and Kaitake Ranges in the north-western part of the park." www.doc.govt.nz/parks-and-recreation/places-to-go/taranak...
A new generation of turtles appeared finally in our garden, we haven't seen new little turtles for years, we think maybe some predator like a bird or something was getting them once they get out of the eggs, while their shells are still soft... :(
this time my father found these cute little ones and kept them safe in a closed place until they grow up and their shells become hard..
as I've mentioned before, there are many of them in our garden that I've lost the count :)
Happy Turtling Weekend!!
see your photos soon...
it appeared this morning that i'd been mysteriously gifted with a cow -- turns out she's an escapee from a nearby ranch -- she apparently hops over a 4-foot fence to get out!
I appear to have become somewhat addicted to lampwork glass beads recently. This one was made by a lovely lady in Scotland. I often wish I was creative. To be fair, I am creative in my mind, but my hands don't necessarily get the message. :)
Yesterday saw me on another early morning/dawn stroll around Jacksons Brickworks Nature Reserve ..... oh the joys of not sleeping well :-(
It is becoming very noticable that there are a lot less dragonflies and damselflies either flying around or basking in the warmth of the sun!
I did not see any Brown Hawkers flying around and it appeared that there were only a handful of Southern Hawkers present.
So not many more chance of in-flight shots now for this year :-(
But enjoy this one!!!!! :-)