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Lokking back to where we first saw Lindeman Lake while hiking the Post Creek-Lindeman Lake Trail in Chilliwack Lake Provincial Park. (11-06-28-1838)
Seen at the British Wildlife Centre, Newchapel, Surrey. In between people watching, 'Biscuit' finds time to pose.
Back from it's lawn dart on a F20-4 (which was more like a SEVEN!! POS!) here is the Fatboy on a CTI G88 Smokey Sam with a 4 second delay (that WAS FOUR SECONDS!! Imagine THAT?)
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The Olive-backed Sunbird, Cinnyris jugularis, also known as the Yellow-bellied Sunbird, is a species of sunbird found from Southern Asian to Australia.
The sunbirds are a group of very small Old World passerine birds which feed largely on nectar, although they will also take insects, especially when feeding young. Their flight is fast and direct on their short wings. Most species can take nectar by hovering, but usually perch to feed most of the time.
The Olive-backed Sunbird is common across southern China to the Philippines and Malaysia down to northeast Australia. They are small songbirds, at most 12cm long. In most subspecies, the underparts of both male and female are bright yellow, the backs are a dull brown colour. The forehead, throat and upper breast of the adult male is a dark, metallic blue-black. In the Philippines the males of some subspecies have an orange band on the chest, in Wallacea and northern New Guinea some subspecies have most of the underparts blackish, and in southern China and adjacent parts of Vietnam most of the underparts of the male are greyish-white.
Originally from mangrove habitat, the Olive-backed sunbird has adapted well to humans, and is now common even in fairly densely populated areas, even forming their nests in human dwellings.
The birds mate between the months of April and August. Both the male and the female assist in building the nest which is flask-shaped, with an overhanging porch at the entrance, and a trail of hanging material at the bottom end.
After building the nest, the birds abandon the nest for about a week before the female returns to lay one or two greenish-blue eggs. The eggs take a further week to hatch. The female may leave the nest for short periods during the day during incubation. After the chicks have hatched, both male and female assist in the care of the young, which leave the nest about two or three weeks later.
Lady: Hey my man. I am still waiting for you. Go as far as you want, but come back for me.
Man: I am lost. Direct me please. My hands are empty. I am still looking for the "thing". Have I lost you or have I lost my self. I am tired. Where is home??
Lady: Here I am. Waiting for you. Put your head up and smile as you are are finally home. Lost is he who has no home.
Historic Grade School. Built in 1903 of brick trimmed with native limestone. Used for classes until 1998. National Register of Historic Places. Private property. 4th and Locust Streets.
While I was taking photos, a man came out and he has been doing renovations on this building for 3 or 4 years. He is wanting to develop it to use for condos or apartments. It is on the National Register of Historic places, so I hope that he can get this done, as it is too beautiful to go to ruin.
Babcock family photograph. Back row standinding left to right: Arthur Shattuck, Bill Clark, Havilah Babcock, Frances Kimberly Babcock, Henry Babcock, Helen Babcock, John Bergstrom, Nan Kimberly, Billy Wing and Lucius Bergstrom. Sitting on the ground in front left to right: Caroline Babcock, Vina Shattuck and Betty Babcock. The unidentified girls were friends visiting the Babcock girls from their boarding schools.
Daisy does a back dance trying to get Coco to play with her.
She spins around on her back, kicking her legs.
It's now December, and I've made it back to Maine, the same place where I used to visit my grandma every summer. I walked up to the house, closed up for winter, and peered in the dark windows. The room still looked the same as it had been when I visited 20 years ago. The kitchen with the old green refrigerator. The fireplace in the corner. The bedroom downstairs.
I walked through the cold wind and falling snow till I got to the beach. The snow let up and I walked with my grandma's ashes in the urn clutched between my gloved hands. I looked out into the ocean, and stood there as the bitter chill washed across my face. I looked down at my tall, rain boots and then continued to wade, deep into the water.
I thought it was the best place to put my grandma's ashes. Back where she belonged. And where she felt most at home. Somewhere, where she was happy. And so, I opened up the jar and scattered the black dust into the sea.
As I watched it float away, a tear ran down my face and fell into the choppy waves.