Playing fetch in the yard with Sweetie

I came across this black Lab who was retrieving large sticks his owner threw into the lake. The bigger, the better.

Having retrieved the last empty from the closing Rousselot gelatin plant, Pan Am local BO-1 plows through the bushes one last time on the Danvers branch on the way back to Salem and ultimately Boston, thus closing a chapter of over 170 years of railroading. Peabody, MA

i saw this surprise thrush recently so was thrilled to get some photo doc. on a quick follow up visit.

Yes it was snowing(white vertical streak on side breast)

This bird was foraging under and alongside some meager trees or on areas where i am assuming the salt content on the ground was hindering snow accumulation.

Sometimes it was among the back edge of driftwood line.

At times it was returning to a sappy area at the base of a conifer tree to feed.I wasn't able to see/tell if it was eating sap or if there were insects it was gleaning.

At other times it was pecking the mossy ground and retrieving a small prey item.

This location is not really usual habitat from what i gather, Usually it prefers secluded and sheltered areas under goodly forest canopy.

Hermit Thrush HETH (Catharus guttatus)

Saanichton Spit

Central Saanich BC

DSCN1676

With a hot air baloon, you land where you can, often in a field. You have to avoid houses and power lines. You want to avoid some fields and cows (not to frighten them). I took this photo when we flew low to catch some specific winds. I like the framing with the cars in the back, coming to the landed baloons to pack them.

Sony A7 iii // Sony FE 24-105mm f/4 G OSS

…… Saves a whole lot of pulling & pushing do these old workhorses! This beauty was seen at Feock in Cornwall. Alan:-)…….

For the interested I’m growing my Shutterstock catalogue regularly here, now sold 155 images :- www.shutterstock.com/g/Alan+Foster?rid=223484589&utm_...

©Alan Foster.

©Alan Foster. All rights reserved. Do not use without permission.…….

On the way back.

Retrieved from disc and taken with Canon Powershot A630 in the Highlands of Scotland. Did you spot the ravens..?

(I've included what everyone said - well, highlights from them- including Niobe's, who had to leave before she could post what she would say, and notes from the letter Fallon wrote Laz. I also added Artika and Cata's internals, because they pay tribute to Laz - and I'll miss that guy. This RP impacted me harder than any other, and this funeral was one of the most beautiful things of all time. What a fantastic story.)

EAMON CALE:

"I hope... we will do more than mourn this man tonight. I ask that we pay tribute to a lad who was, indeed, larger than life, and far better than this city deserved. For all his... bluster and blow..." He smiles then, melancholy but gentle. "He was a rarity in this day and age, a man who still believed in compassion, in the protection of those who could not protect themselves, in fairness, equality." Eamon Cale's dark eyes linger on each face in turn. "Laz believed in making the world a better place than which he'd found it. Ye can look to his civil efforts to improve Midian's standard of living, his tireless work toward a common cause--that no one, regardless of race, creed, faith or genetics deserves to be locked away by the world, and forgotten here on this island with no chance nor opportunity to improve their lot. He showed others how to find their fecking bootstraps and draw themselves up again."

Eamon Cale's voice quiets again. "But 'tis as Captain of the Watch, guardian of this church, that -I- will remember Laz best. He came to this church, -drawn- here, he said, by a feeling that defied all logic... drawn to a Church and a faith that was not his own. And over the course of our friendship--over many a whiskey where he'd tell me I was mad for half the things I did... or punch me for the same--" He smiles briefly and resists the urge to run his palm over his jaw. "He came to share his belief with me, that God had spared him thus far, because his work was not yet done." Eamon Cale searches their faces. "Redemption," he says softly. "And a chance to be the good man that had been inside him all along. 'Twas this man who became my friend..." His voice catches, quiet now and hoarse. "A far better friend than I will ever deserve. He saved my life, in more ways than one. He defied the Legion for this parish, and for his family, the Pride. He gave me an incredible gift..." He pauses, jaw working. "And stood beside me as brother on the best day of my life." …

Eamon Cale looks to the door at the front of the church. If he tries, he can still see Laz standing there, back to the door, watching over the Mass. That damned cigar poking from the corner of his cocky grin. "'I have fought the good fight,' the Bible says." His gaze comes to rest on those gathered to say goodbye. "And so he did. 'I have finished my course. I have kept the faith.' He did all this and more. And so I say goodnight, ye mad bastard, with no doubt of God's words when ye stand before him." His vision blurs. He doesn't care. "'Well done, good and faithful servant. Lay down your burden. And welcome home.'"

ALRIC BRAVIN:

“…But Lazarus Lowenstark was my friend. Midian, it is said, is a den of evil, a gathering place of the wicked, and a neverending hole of darkness - or those were the first words I ever heard uttered of this place before I arrived. Laz was a light in that darkness. Someone who saw the evil, understood it, and yet, managed to stay good. Even managed to find good in those of us who might think that we were swallowed whole by the cesspool."

"He saw that good in me. When I arrived to this place, I will not lie, the darkness drew me. The promise of anonymity and a cessation to the boredom that I suffered from. I was not a good man. Still do not believe that I am, but Laz was one of a small number of people who told me differently, and perhaps performed the impossible. He made me believe it. It was something he was capable of doing - to show people that they were not their circumstances." He paused, taking another deep breath. "He taught me that sometimes you can't fight destiny. You can't fight fate putting you where you're supposed to be, but how you get there, and what you do when you get there, that's up to you… Laz was - is, one of the greatest men I've ever known, and I will never forget him. He protected my family, stood by my side when I needed someone to slap some sense into me, and became the godfather of my children. I couldn't ask for a better friend. And I know that there are people here who feel the same way. Laz will not be forgotten - the deeds that he has done and the lives that he has touched will ensure that he will live on forever. And though he and I may not end up in the same place, I consider it my greatest pleasure to have known this man for the short time - a blink of an eye, really - that I did." He returned his attention down to the casket, and bowed his head. He was fighting hard not to let the tears that wanted so desperately to form fall. "Rest well, Laz, you've earned it. Eternity awaits you. Enjoy it."

SISTER D:

"There is not much I can say about Laz that has not been said already... True also that I did not know him as well as most, and that will remain one of the biggest regrets of my life." She closed her eyes against their faces, "However, but for the Grace of God and the man we honor tonight, I would not be standing in front of you. The thing that I'll always remember about Laz is his ability to make anything better: a sad or...akward... moment fixed with a word, even up till his final breath, he was trying to console us; many of the city's problems fixed, with the help of his friends, with one of his inovations;" the teen took a deep breath, "a fight won through his skill, wit, and many strengths." Slowly, she opened her eyes... this wasn't right... not quite, she turned to the casket, that was who she needed to talk to, "Laz... I'm so sorry, sorry we didn't get to know eachother as well as we'd have liked, that we didn't get Pop Tarts, Lucky Charms, and cartoons, mostly... sorry that-- that I was up on the roof last week, and sorry these are so smushed." She choked on the last word and set a small, blue box down near the foot of the casket as she turned away. Those close could recognize the framilar Pop Tart brand logo. With that she hurried back to her seat, the napkin back at her dirty eyes.

GUIN FOUROUX:

"Laz and I," she finally says, softly. "We had our moments. The first word I think of when I think of him is 'opinionated.' But the second... well, the third. The second would be 'stubborn.' " She laughs, quick and soft, and glances at the casket. "But the third would probably be 'hero.' "She pauses for a moment, all hint of a tease leaving her voice and posture. "I grew to know Laz during the worst time of my life. And I remember standing, just about right here, when he managed to get a laugh out of me when no one else could. I don't think he knew how much that meant to me. How much it had felt, until that moment, that I wouldn't be able to laugh again, and what a weight he'd lifted…” She smooths a hand along her skirt, then lifts her hand to brush her rosay as she exhales. "Laz also never approved much of anything I did. The people I counted as friends. And he took every opportunity to tell me so. He -also- took every opportunity to defend me, whether through a barb or cutting comment, a laugh or a threat. I always knew he would be at my side if I needed him. And despite all his disapproval... he never missed an opportunity to tell me how much he trusted and respected me, either."

ELISE CAPALINI:

Elise Capalini looks at the coffin before her and then those assembled. "I tried to write something three different times before coming here tonight, and every time I failed," she says. "I think it was only after spending time with Bianca, in the cloister and the house she shared with Laz that I understood what had really been lost here." She looks to the hat retrieved from that house, and gently touches its brim.. "For me, Laz returned part of my family. I met him in this very church--asked him to do a job for me. I thought that would be the end of it--but... He became a brother to me, a protector of the Pride." She draws in a breath, throat gone tight and vision blurry again. "Laz held my hand through the darkest hours I have known in this city. He never flinched, not even in the end." Her hand flattens against the top of the casket. "We'll watch over your girl for you, Laz, until you two can hook back up. I told you--I told you..." There was too much else, she thought; too much to say and no proper words. She moves back to her place near Bianca.

RAVI KARU:

"Lazarus Lowenstark restored my faith in humanity." she paused, for a moment, and brushed the back of a hand over her cheek. "I want to impress how exact, and literal that statement is. Before coming to Midian, the only side of humans I had known was at best a dirty glance, a harsh word, and at worse, outright hatred and murder. When I came here, I met humans that seemed to care for hybrids, that seemed to be able to tolerate us, such as Father Eamon, but I still did not trust them, would not turn my back on them.. it was Lazarus who changed that, who taught me that humans were not all like those I had encountered before, that some, perhaps even most, would live and let live, and even do more. Lazarus Lowenstark helped me learn to trust humans, for the first time in my life.

LINDSAY NOONAN:

"We've all said good things about Laz, but my friend deserves to know I miss him. I genuinely respected him, even loved him. I can't say that about many humans, if you knew my past...She shrugged "...this isn't about me. Lazarus was truly Midian's hero, more than most will even know. Not just in the fight, but in trying to keep us all alive day to day as well. In time we'll see what we've lost here, but all I know is my sister has lost a beloved mate, and I've lost a dear friend. He and I often disagreed, but we were truly friends. I have laid my life on the line for him, and him for me. We worked side by side but I give him the credit for the brains to make it all work." Looks to the casket and smiles "I love you Laz, and I'm gonna miss you a lot. I won't let you or BB down though. Rest easy, you've earned it.

DAMIAN RIGAUD:

Damian Rigaud points with his gloved hand at the casket “The man I knew enjoyed what he did.. and it showed in his work and in his life. He lived and worked passionately and he shared his opinions and his mind the same way…” he smiles wider “Whether you agreed with him or even wanted to hear his thoughts on a particular subject or not.. “ says with a slight chuckle. Damian Rigaud straightens… his gaze settling on the crowd “You here that know me… know that I am not given to displays of emotion… or tortured ramblings about the pain of life and its unfairness… “ he points without looking at the casket “Neither did this man… Lazarus lived as he wished… worked in the field he wished.. took the pleasures that he wished… and *I* believe he even died in the manner he wished.” He says with determined tone at the end.“He died in the defense of the people of this church, a task he volunteered for and preformed in the manner he did everything he put his mind to… with excellence.” He says his voice confident and even. “This man that I call friend did not consider this a chore… or a vain effort.. I will not hear his wisdom debated in my presence.. “ he says with a hard edge to his voice. He looks again at the casket “Grieve as you will for the passing of a man, that stood straight and did not waver, that made no excuse for his way of life or the way he lived it….I send him on his way with my deepest respect…” he says his voice quieter.

BIANCA BENDER:

Bianca Bender she'd speak her voice quiet but strong now echoing against the old stone walls reaching all ears, "I lost the one thing that had meaning to me a week ago. I would have gone with him, if he'd but asked me to. But he wouldn't have done that...he asked me to go on...to be strong for him. I've been trying. It's difficult, he was my lover, my best-friend and my all. I've got to let him go, but for now I'm going to remember him. My..." takes a breath and swallows hard. Finally - finally after this long week she'd speak his name, "...Laz. With his impish grin that could melt me at a glance, that loved me unconditionally for all my faults he saw me as more...always more...he challenged me...every day we were together."

Bianca Bender takes another deep breath eyes sliding close briefly before opening still remaining dry, "You all shared parts of his life, work, friendship, family...." would glance in turn towards each of those that fell into each category the last landing on Alric, Fallon and the girls after passing over Elise. "He loved you all, so much. You all brought joy, pain, and challenge into his life every day." smiles softly, "I know because I had to help deal with some of the knots left behind." smiles softly and she'd turn then resting both hands against the coffin.

Bianca Bender now speaking just for him she'd break lightly the tears falling peacefully from her eyes as she continues, "I love you Laz, given time, I'd hope I would have eventually carried your name proudly as my own. We won't have those moments now, but the moments we did share, I'll cherish. Even your jokes, that I didn't always understand. I've got to go back to our home...soon...I tried earlier this week...I got you your tux you always looked so good in...you still do I'm sure..." smooths a hand over the coffin as if to smooth his tie again, "I will love you always...forever, and if I do find comfort again...the love won't be half of what I feel for you at this moment and always. Go in peace...I don't understand right now...but one day."

ARTIKA:

Artika Muliaina sits quietly now, her eyes forward and face appropriately somber... perhaps thinking of the waste of losing a useful and reliable tool, albeit one whose mind required the utmost care on her part, for such he was, at least in her mind. If she were to rise and speak, she would tell them that the man was not a fool. High praise coming from Artika. But she does not, instead glancing at Cata once more, her expression thoughtful.

CATABOLIS PLUTONIAN:

Catabolis Plutonian watches the cat quietly, for a second, but otherwise his gaze is locked on the coffin. The idea of life ending seemed almost merciful. He had done terrible things, ugly deeds that would not easily be forgiven. To be at the funeral of a man who had stood for something other than himself consumed him, made him wonder what he'd been wasting this cursed existence on. Not altruism - that alone was certain.

FALLON:

Thank you, for what you meant to Alric. You were more than a friend to him, and I'd hoped so much that you'd have become the same for me. I'd hoped you'd be the father of my next child.I know, it's a terrible time to make jokes, but at moments like these, it's either laugh or cry, and I do so hate crying in public. I will make sure Rose knows your face. Your name. What you did for her. That you held her, and kept her safe when I couldn't, and when I thought the world was crashing around us. You earned a place in my heart that night. A mother never forgets moments like those…Knowing you, I know the old saying, Good men must die, but death cannot kill their names, is true.

PORTIA:

Portia Kass exhaled and began her silent thoughts, hoping somehow or other that Laz could hear them "Laz... I wasn't kidding... wasn't just quoting when I said I'd miss you most of all. I don't think I realized exactly how important you were until it was... too late. I can promise you... that I will never take something like that for granted ever again. Thank you for believing in me, thank you for giving me a chance to loosen up and grow up, I'm only sorry I didn't do it sooner. From the very first moment we met, you had my respect and you always will. I love you dearly, I will always consider you my friend, and I will do my best to try and be as good and strong as you were, as much as I know I can be. You'll always be with me, the voice in the back of my head. I'm glad it's yours. Thank you... for everything."

NIOBE:

"It went like that the rest of the time I knew him. Laz was a man with a lot of ideas, and he loved working with other people who also had a lot of ideas. He had a passion to make Midian City a better place to live, not by changing the people who live here, not by enforcing his will on the place, but by the ignoble, simple things that Science - and he was a man to capitalize it - could fix. Clean water. Reliable power. Better technology for the Medical Center. Sustainable food supplies. And getting the subway opened between here and the mainland. Some of those we got done while Laz was with us. Most of them we're still working on. He poured heart and soul into the League, and I'm happy to say that just yesterday, Mayor Rigaud deeded us space for our new lab, which will be named the Lazarus Lawrence Lowenstark Labs. He was one for alliteration. So were his parents, apparently…Laz was good at looking at a situation and saying, ‘What can I do to help?’ and then doing it. More than that, though, he had the ability to look at someone, see something good in them, and nurture it until that good thing grew into something life changing for the person. He did it to me. I'm sure I'm not the only one."

CRAZY STRIPPER GRIEFER:

PrimalChaos Frostbite: Everybody fucky fucky...

© 2015 Corey Bourassa, all rights reserved. No reproduction without prior consent. For more information visit www.coreybourassa.com

he's overtaken Saxon in his ability to find the ball when they miss the location of the throw ... if he's looking for Saxon's ball he tries to fit them both in his mouth, or swaps with his ball so Saxon can't get his, which sends Saxon on a wild goose chase 'cause Saxon is very picky and won't pick up Biscuit's ball as replacement.

Watching Biscuit search is very cool. He searches in every wider circles until he picks up the scent, and in longer grass you can see when he's picked up the bounce the ball took :-)

He's got a super jump too, high and graceful :-)

Explore

Fed up with cold shots, so I retrieved this one from the archives.

Luce Bay is a large bay in Wigtownshire in southern Scotland. The bay is 20 miles wide at its mouth and is bounded by the Rhins of Galloway to the west and the Machars to the east.

From the 1930s to the 1990s it was a bombing range used for training purposes by RAF aircraft (and later allied aircraft on a leasing basis) based at West Freugh. Discharged bombs were retrieved by a retired minesweeper based at Drummore. It is still a licensed MOD Range with Byelaws restricting access during Test and Evaluation activities conducted by QinetiQ on behalf of the MOD.

Once an important commercial fishery, Luce Bay is now seldom used for this purpose. It contains important marine and littoral life, however, and has been declared a Special Area of Conservation by Scottish Natural Heritage

Biscuit is super obsessive about his toy play, balls are preferred, the chuck-it at the top of the list, as with Saxon.

Biscuit loves to tease Saxon and sometimes steal the ball from under his "control" which can be metres away if he's backed-up ... but Biscuit doesn't risk actually taking the ball after it's been thrown for Saxon, unless he's gone the complete wrong direction in which case Saxon decides it mustn't be his ball hahaha funny dynamics :-)

Storm due soon, Almrida

Hamah - Syria

[en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hama_massacre]

Muito obrigado à Graziele Noronha (ZIELE), Rasmus Boegh e Cuckooroller, pela identificação desta ave.

Maria-faceira (Syrigma sibilatrix), fotografada ao lado do Ginásio de Esportes Nilson Nelson, em Brasília, Brasil.

Classe: Aves

Ordem: Ciconiformes

Família: Ardeidae

Nome científico: Syrigma sibilatrix

Nome vulgar: Maria-faceira

Categoria: Vulnerável

Mede 53 cm. Tem face azul-clara, bico róseo. Habita campos secos, arrozais, lugares pouco alagados. Anda a passos largos e bem calculados, como se observasse um perigo ou uma oportunidade. Espécie insentívora. Faz ninhos sobre as árvores, ou arbustos, em ilhas, e põe ovos levemente manchados. Muito diferente das outras espécies de família. Sua voz é um sibilo melodioso repetido sem pressa, que é emitido com o bico largamente aberto e o pescoço esticado.

completamente insetívora, vivendo longe da água, nos cerrados abertos e campos limpos formados após a baixa das águas (foto). Os casais permanecem juntos a maior parte do tempo, mantendo contato em vôo com um chamado especial, um sibilo melodioso e longo. O som produzido é semelhante ao de maria-fumaças de brinquedo. No final da tarde, desloca-se para dormir pousada em árvores altas, geralmente em terreno seco. No início da manhã seguinte retorna ao local de alimentação, onde permanece no solo a maior parte do tempo, caçando os insetos em caminhadas lentas. Sua batida de asas é muito característica, por ser de baixa amplitude e alta velocidade, dando a impressão que voa somente com o deslocamento da ponta extrema da asa.

O nome comum está ligado às cores espetaculares da cabeça. As cores do juvenil são mais esmaecidas, mas, fora isso, é idêntico aos adultos.

Reproduz-se também em casais isolados, sem formar colônias.

Mede 53 cm. Face azul - clara, bico róseo.

Habita campoa secos, arrozais, lugares pouco alagados.

Ocorre do Rio de Janeiro e Minas Gerais à Argentina, Paraguai e Bolívia, também na Venezuela e Colômbia.

Andam a passos largos e bem calculados, como se observassem um perigo ou uma oportunidade.

Insentívora, caça também insetos no seco.

Fazem ninhos sobre as árvores, ou arbustos, em ilhas, ovos levemente manchados.

Muito diferente das outras espécies de família. A sua voz é um sibilo melodioso repetido sem pressa "i,i,i"; que é emitido com o bico largamente aberto e o pescoço esticado.

A text, in english, from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whistling_Heron

The Whistling Heron, Syrigma sibilatrix, is a medium-sized, often terrestrial heron of South America. There are two subspecies, the southern S. s. sibilatrix and the northern S. s. fostersmithi.

Description:

The Whistling Heron measures 53 to 64 cm in length and weighs 521 to 546 g. The southern subspecies is bigger but has a shorter bill in proportion to the body.[1]

The overall impression of standing birds is gray, with flying birds showing conspicuous white rear parts (lower back, belly, and tail). In both subspecies, adults' upperparts except the lower back are blue-gray.[1][2] The feathers of the sides of head, sides of the neck, breast, and scapular area are basically white but are stained gold to buff, perhaps by the powder down typical of herons or by secretions of the preen gland; the color varies from bird to bird. In the nominate subspecies, the crown and crest (separate plumes up to 4 cm long on the nape) are black and the upper wing coverts are cinnamon-colored; the crown and crest are slate-gray and the upper wing coverts are honey-colored (or "chamois"[2]) in fostersmithi.[1] The bill is pink with blue to violet at the base and the distal third black, the legs are greenish and rather short, and there is a fairly big area of bare bluish skin around the eye.[1][2]

Juveniles have the same overall pattern but are duller than adults, with the crown lighter, the breast light gray, and the throat and sides unstained white.[1][2] Chicks are undescribed.[1]

The bird is named for its most common call, a "loud, flute-like whistled kleeer-er"[2] or "a high, reedy, complaining whistle, often doubled or uttered in a ser[ies], wueeee, wueeee,.…, easily imitated" [3] or "a distinctive, characteristic, far-carrying, melodious whistle" that "can be rendered 'kee, kee, kee.'"[1] It may also give "a slow, drawn-out whistle" when taking off.[1] The alarm call is a harsh quah-h-h.[2]

Unlike other herons, in flight it has fast, duck-like wingbeats and usually does not retract its neck fully.[1]

Range and habitat

The subspecies fostersmithi inhabits the Llanos and the Orinoco basin of Colombia and Venezuela. There are no breeding records "yet" from Colombia.[1][2] The subspecies sibilatrix inhabits eastern Bolivia, Paraguay, western and southern Brazil, Uruguay, Chile, and northeastern Argentina. Recent records suggest that it may be expanding its range northward and eastward in Brazil. It makes seasonal movements at least in northeastern Venezuela, where it does not occur from November to January, but remains all year in other areas, such as Buenos Aires Province, Argentina.[1]

It occurs at altitudes up to 500 m (with a sight record from 2300 m[3]) in seasonally flooded savanna, often in drier grassy situations than other herons, but also in a wide variety of open waterlogged or shallowly submerged terrain. Because it roosts in trees, it particularly likes regions where open areas are mixed with woodlots. It has no objection to human-altered habitats such as pastures and roadsides, and it often perches on fenceposts.[1]

Although patchily distributed, it is common in many areas, with no population considered vulnerable. It benefits from deforestation and some agriculture.[1] As a successful heron of dry tropical country, it has been compared to two species originating in the Old World: the Cattle Egret and the Black-headed Heron.[4]

Behavior

Feeding

This species eats any small dryland and marsh animals it can catch, or even pirate[1] (as from an Aplomado Falcon in one reported incident[4]). It often holds still[1][2][3] but also walks very slowly[4] and may use more active techniques, even running after prey or catching flying insects (notably dragonflies[3]) from a standing position.[1] It may allow humans to approach fairly closely rather than leave a good feeding spot.[1] It typically feeds alone or in pairs, but is sometimes seen in groups up to 100,[2] especially before roosting for the night.[1]

Reproduction

In a courtship display, the birds fly back and forth and glide in circles. A captive pair displayed by raising their plumes.[1]

This species nests alone, unlike most herons, which nest in colonies. It may nest in mature trees such as araucarias or exotic trees.[1]. One nest in Argentina was loosely built of sticks about 4m up in a eucalyptus.[3] The eggs are pale blue and speckled, about 4.7 × 3.6 cm, and the normal clutch is three or four. Incubation lasts about 28 days, and young fledge 42 days after hatching. Egg survival has been measured at 28% and nestling survival at 40%; storms that destroy nests are an important cause of losses. Based on observations of family groups, only two young normally fledge. Unlike most heron species, Whistling Herons care for young after leaving the nest; juveniles beg for food by hissing with their wings drooped.[1]

Taxonomy

Skeletal resemblances to the night herons have led to a debate about whether the Whistling Heron is related to them, but since the 1980s it has been at least provisionally considered a relative of the genus Egretta, with little doubt that it belongs in a genus of its own.[1][5]

Cultural significance

Indigenous peoples formerly used its neck plumes as trade items, though not so heavily as to reduce populations.[1]

References

* BirdLife International (2004). Syrigma sibilatrix. 2006 IUCN Red List of Threatened Species. IUCN 2006. Retrieved on 02 April 2007. Database entry includes justification for why this species is of least concern

1. ^ a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x Kushlan, James A.; Hancock, James. A (2005). Herons. Oxford University Press, pp. 208–214. ISBN 0-19-854981-4. Retrieved on 2007-04-01.

2. ^ a b c d e f g h i Hilty, Steven L.; Brown, William L. (1986). A Guide to the Birds of Colombia. Princeton University Press, p. 66. ISBN 0-691-08371-1. Retrieved on 2007-04-01.

3. ^ a b c d e Hilty, Steven L. (2003). Birds of Venezuela. Princeton University Press, p. 213–214. ISBN 0-691-09250-8. Retrieved on 2007-04-03.

4. ^ a b c Kushlan, James A.; Hancock, James A.; Pinowski, J.; Pinowska, B. (1982). "Behavior of Whistling and Capped Herons in the Seasonal Savannas of Venezuela and Argentina" (pdf). Condor 84: pp. 255–260. Retrieved on 2007-04-03.

5. ^ Remsen, J. V., Jr.; C. D. Cadena; A. Jaramillo; M. Nores; J. F. Pacheco; M. B. Robbins; T. S. Schulenberg; F. G. Stiles; D. F. Stotz; K. J. Zimmer. A classification of the bird species of South America [Version 2007-04-05]. American Ornithologists' Union. Retrieved on 2007-04-09.

Another text, in english, from www.arthurgrosset.com/sabirds/whistling heron.html

Whistling Heron (Syrigma sibilatrix), photographed at the City's Park (Parque da Cidade), in Brasília, Brazil.

Whistling Heron (Syrigma sibilatrix)

There are two subspecies of Whistling Heron, S. s. sibilatrix found in Bolivia, SE Brazil and NE Argentina and S. s. fostersmithi found in E Colombia and Venezuela which is smaller and paler.

It is quite distinctive with its red bill with black tip, its blue bare skin around the eyes, its golden neck and its blue-grey back.

Whistling Heron, Brazil, Sept 2000 - click for larger image It gets its name from the rather melodious whistle that it makes in contrast to the coarse calls of most herons.

It feeds during the day on grasshoppers, frogs, eels, etc. and is probably less dependant on water for its food than any other heron.

The Brazilians call it "Maria-faceira" or "Mary the coquette".

in Campo Negroni a Caorle

Having fun at sunset out at Ocean Beach in San Diego. The north side of the beach is dedicated to pet owners. There is even a pet friendly motel right next to this area so you can bring your dog from out of town and go for a morning, afternoon, and evening romp at the beach.

PS For some great music ask Siri, Alexa, Spotify and Amazon to play music by JOHN WILLIAM HAMMOND, use all 3 names.

Joyful fun and soulful too . Enjoy!

New Germany lake

For the Merlin's Beard Winter Holiday Banner Contest. I had to at least make an attempt since i won last year.

A little rushed, but I liked how it came out. Picture would've been nicer if it wasn't taken at such a wide angle to include everything.

Enjoy!

Charlie loves to retrieve. Unlike his brother Cider, Charlie will happily retrieve anything for hours on end.

New Germany lake

[https://flickr.com/photos/mandywillard/] and I went to St. Leonards and Hastings today, and on our way to the fishing area we stumbled on the Hastings Lifeboat being retrieved from an outing. This is made up of three pictures joined.

GP40-2W MEC 516 on CSXT's ex Pan Am local BO-1 is seen inside the Rousselot plant for the last time as they pick up the final empty hydrochloric acid tank car. The facility is closing later this year after being in operation in some form for 206 years and with rail service for 173 of those! This may very well be the last time a train is ever seen on these rails, about 2 1/2 miles from Salem via pieces of the old Boston and Maine Danvers and South Reading Branches. Rousselot was the very last rail served customer on the north shore of Boston and come the following day nothing but window trains will ever polish the rails east of Everett Junction unless by some miracle other freight rail customers manifest themselves in the future.

It was a sad and historic day indeed....but I'm grateful I was able to witness it and document it with so many others. Thanks to Conductor Maher for making the classy signs that adorned the front and rear of 516 for this trip.

Peabody, Massachusetts

Thursday August 31, 2023

A honey bee navigates the spiky thistle flower to get at its center to retrieve specks of pollen.

It is finally looking like spring in this neck of the woods. While out exploring I found these on the dirt mounds I have been shooting into all winter winter.

IMG_0586

Three ships' anchors sculpture, Tamworth, UK.

The sculpture consists of three ships' anchors held in place by a genuine anchor chain offered by a Portsmouth dockyard.

The anchors represent three able seamen whose courage shortened the Second World War by up to a year.

Local hero Colin Grazier and his comrade Tony Fasson died retrieving vital Enigma codes from a stricken German U-boat on 30 October 1942. A third man, 15 year-old Tommy Brown, survived only to die in a house fire two years later.

All three men were awarded the George Cross for their bravery.

//:filename retrieved; ‘Operation Sundown’

//:filedby retrieved; ‘CT-6125/Judge’

//:logretrieved;

‘By the time we put together the pieces of a Mandalorian-shaped puzzle that led to downtown Corellia, it looked as though we were too late. A group of rogue Mandalorians had slowly slipped through the planetary blockade with smuggled shipments of weapons - all part of a plan to sabotage Republic shipyards supplying the Open Circle fleet. As I had stood next to the data officers at the local command post it was obvious that the Separatists were planning a full-on coup, led by fanatical gangs and nationalist groups.

Republic intelligence was terrified, to put it lightly. Without the new air reinforcements that Corellia’s ship-building industry was preparing, the Outer Rim Sieges could be slowed significantly - if not brought to a halt.

Along with several other units across the planet, a plan was developed to make a coordinated strike at the Separatist cells, and hit ‘em hard. Along with a small squad, my task was to move into the nasty end of town and capture a warehouse containing what reconnaissance identified as rocket launchers, artillery and other munitions. Rounding a corner, we closed in on the target. A Mandalorian stood guard besides a blaster cannon, and I waited for the signal.

BEEP. Two shots from my pistols took the target in the shoulder and then the helmet, leaving him sprawled on the ground. The time to strike was now - or never.’

//:END OF FILE

————————————————

SigFig

Name: CT-6125 ‘Judge’

Home World: Kamino

Age: 14

Species: Human

Class: Trooper

Faction: Galactic Empire

Brutal when compared to the other clones that emerged from the training programs, Judge is a Clone Trooper raised on Kamino like all others. He excelled at strategy tests but sparked concern for his use of unconventional - and often merciless - tactics. Initially given his nickname as an insult, ‘Judge’ came from CT-6125’s quickness to make serious decisions - often leading to casualties, which he never considered a concern. A supporter of the Empire’s relentless crackdown on resistance, Judge is willing to see through an assignment no matter the human costs.

This image was taken a year and a half ago and I, just now, got around to developing the roll. I still remember the circumstances of this image quite well though. It was a rainy September day (I don’t remember the exact day anymore) and I was shooting along the Sauk River in a nearby park. I was getting wet and impatient. I was using my iPhone as a light meter and I put it in my front shirt pocket. When I leaned over to check something it slipped out of my pocket and into the river. I managed to retrieve it quickly; unfortunately, it was a bit worse for the experience and stopped charging soon after.

Hoe vind je gemakkelijk je fiets terug.

Amsterdam - Stationsplein

www.kijklens.nl

Retrieving the ball in the K9 Aqua pool at the All About Dogs show in Norfolk.

After retrieving several empty boxcars from a local business in downtown Ely, Nevada Northern Locomotive #40 brings her train of empties into the snowy East Ely Yard for disposition. The train is pictured passing a string of ore hoppers next to the RIP shed, with the engine house in the background. This image was captured during a February 2010 winter photo shoot at the Nevada Northern Railway Museum in Ely, NV.

The tracks of the Nevada Norther Railway used to run from the East Ely Yard to a passenger depot downtown, but that trackage was removed in the late 1930s when passenger traffic on the line was rapidly being replaced by bus service. For many years, the track which had gone downtown literally dead-ended right behind the engine house. In recent years, the present-day Nevada Northern Railway Museum has proposed rebuilding the line to downtown, and some track has been laid. It remains to be seen if that project will come to fruition.

Pinhole snaps on the way to pick up my car.

By xxMACExx - Za'Roshi Photography

Models - xxMACExx and Roisin Rose

We introduced the dumbbell to our hold/retrieve exercises a few weeks ago. I've been very careful in trying not to 'poison' the dumbbell and make it a negative association, and so far I think we're doing ok. Part of the training I'd like to pursue with him requires a dumbbell retrieve so we keep on practising.

While Della was at the beach with her Lab friend she learned how to fetch a bumper. She was a little tentative at first but learned very quickly!

Image retrieved from corrupted compact flash card , using rescue pro software.

Had the card a year , time on my hands this afternoon , downloaded the software , it works, happy days . :o)

More rescued images here andrewhaynes.zenfolio.com/p944917342

Can you tell I had a bad day , today

Sutton, Golden Retriever, 1, enjoys his mid-February swim in Lake Ontario. Beaches, Toronto.

New Germany lake

Eagle hunter from western Mongolia, ready to retrieve his bird of prey