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Photographed at my private feeding station. If you'd like to join me for a workshop, please get in touch.
(repost)
That is what the California Highway Patrol officer said.
We were ensconced in an open garage waiting out an armed 211 suspect when those words were spoken.
My call came in at 2:30. A man was barricaded in his apartment after a shootout with police. At the time, I was home sick with a headache the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. But a barricade is a barricade and I threw on some clothes and rushed to the scene.
I stopped at the road closure and was waved through by one of the CHP guys that yelled, “Hey, I know you....go ahead.”
“OK”
After parking the car where the chippy said I should, I asked our esteemed parking enforcement officer (also known as the Parking Nazi) who was standing guard, where was everything happening and where should I go.
He motioned somewhere down the street towards some low-rent apartment complexes and told me to walk on the right side of the street through a vacant lot - nothing but dirt and a creosote bush.
“OK.”
I kept an eye out for what was going on and watched as the guys from the PD’s Special Response Team ( SRT) moved into place.
“Cool,” thought I and grabbed a few shots of one of the guys creeping across the roof, rifle in front of him, pack behind. I thought, “If I get nothing else this will be good art."
I heard people yelling at me and here comes the PIO from the Barstow Police running across the street telling me that hey, I was right in the line of fire and I should like move.
“OK.”
“Don’t go south of the palm tree,” he said, “that way you won’t be in the line of fire.”
“OK. Can I stand behind the palm tree?”
“Sure,” he said, “but I’m not responsible if you get shot.”
“OK”
Seemed to be my thought processes at the time, singular “OK’s”
I stood behind the palm tree for a little bit and then moved — I really wasn’t in the mood to get shot.
The reporter showed up, a radio guy showed up, a small TV station guy showed up and we all sat around in the heat waiting for something to happen....for a long time.
Negotiators were on the phone, relatives got on the phone to try and talk this guy out. The man had been wounded slightly in the first shootout — shot in the hand and the arm — and yelled out to his friends that he was afraid the cops were going to shoot him on sight.
We all knew that this would never happen, but the guy wouldn’t come out. The cops even brought him cigarettes when he asked for them - actually threw them up to him on the balcony. If they had wanted to shoot him, they could have at that time.
I got permission to wander a bit, down in parking area where the CHP rifle shooters were set up — watched them concentrate completely down their black gun sites. I was close enough that if I stuck my head out I could see the guy’s balcony — really, really well — with bloody curtains swaying in the wind.
Time wore on, heat got worse, men got shifted around so as to give the ones sitting in the sun a break.
We waited. Cops gave me Gatorade and water. It was hot.
As dusk set in I kept hoping this guy would come out with his hands up while I still had light to shoot by. Even with my new digital camera (YEA!) I was still a newbie at using the flash in low light situations so I wanted halfway good light.
I simply couldn’t figure out why this guy would NOT come out.
Was it the macho mentality of the whole gang banger personality? Was it that he knew he was facing some major jail time? He was already a loser in that department. What possibly could be worth prolonging this stand-off?
Time wore on some more. The apartment complex residents started getting restless. Hoots and hollers and jungle-like monkey noises came from the apartments and from those watching and waiting behind the lines. A bottle was thrown.
I have to admit, this made a me a tad nervous. I could just see this thing erupting into an all-out riot. Half the people in the complex were convinced the cops were going to gun the guy down and the other half were afraid of the first half.
Soon the cops had enough waiting and started firing tear gas canisters into the apartment. Oh my! Horrible sound those loud guns. Once that tear gas thing started I didn’t stick my head out any more. I crouched down behind a car. I could still see the CHP shooters but wasn’t in the line of fire.
Good thing.
Several minutes after the first rounds of tear gas were volleyed into the apartment there came three quick shots - pop - pop - pop — out the sliding glass door — over the balcony.
“Holy shit,” thought I, “that guy is firing at us.”
“Hey,” I yelled, “Was he shooting this way.”
“Yes, Lara, he was shooting this way.”
I crouched down lower. Just about fully dark now. The people that had come out to watch were yelling the guy was yelling babies were screaming and one Barstow cop remarked, “I can’t believe these people brought their kids out to a gunfight.”
Law enforcement did not return gun fire but more tear gas was used.
Still no sound, no reaction from the barricaded man.
One of the CHP guys came back down into our spot and said that after the three rounds fired by the suspect, one more shot was heard a few minutes later - muffled. Not aimed out the sliding glass door — inside the building.
He said quietly that he had heard _that_ sound before.
Time was starting to lose meaning. Amidst the noise and chaos I had been on the phone relaying the latest developments to the reporter who had gone back to write his story. More tear gas was lobbed into the building but the feeling was that the man had offed himself with that final fourth shot.
My deadline to leave was fast approaching — close to 9 p.m. I had the images from the afternoon’s deployment and some close-ups of the guys close to me. But no resolution. No closure.
The crowd up the street was really starting to turn ugly and I debated going up to photograph that, but figured that a camera flashing would trigger the already riotous behaviour that was growing.
Two guys threw bottles at the sheriff’s SWAT team. Ooooh, not a good idea. Those SWAT-dudes are bad-asses with attitudes and guns. They do NOT take kindly to being pelted with bottles. The bottle-throwers were arrested and the crowd scene cooled after that.
No lights were on in the apartment, no movement was seen and all negotiations had long since broken off. The man’s last words and comments to the negotiator were pretty much that the only way he was going to leave was in a body bag.
I still hoped not, but I left to file my art. Before I left the center of the action, which is where I had been allowed to stay (don’t ask me why, I was just allowed to stay.) I made sure the police chief and one of the LT’s knew I was returning and wanted to be back close to where things were happening.
“Sure.” they said, “Just show your press pass, tell whoever we said it was ok and come on back - stay out of the line of fire.”
“OK”
I left, filed the creeping-across-the-roof pic and one of two officers and a bullet proof shield and came back.
Things were as I left them — no more noise, no more nothing.
About 11 p.m. the sheriff's office took over. The Barstow PD SRT and CHP back-ups had been on duty squinting down their sites for almost 8 hours, it was time for a relief team.
I watched the camouflaged SWATs come in, dash about the courtyard smashing out the remaining lights that would put them in danger and get into place, covering each other with guns pointed toward the apartment as they ran across the courtyard.
I couldn’t help myself, I thought “Jeez, this is just like in the movies.” Only this time it was for real — surrealistic, but real.
When the Barstow guys and CHP left I was still standing there all by my lonesome. One of them yelled back at me, “You probably ought to come out too.”
“OK.”
That seemed like a good idea to me — it was dark and I didn’t like being alone.
I came up out of the garage hole and plopped down on the front of a fire truck. Sheriff’s homicide detectives were wondering who the hell was I and why was I there. I smiled, introduced myself and sat back quietly on the fire engine, hoping that no one would actually notice me. I even put my camera down.
The sheriff’s Captain saw me, smiled and let me stay. I was now considered a “friendly.” Cool.
I had kept in contact with the night editor at our sister paper, even after the Dispatch went to bed, did some interviewing, got the correct on-the-record-quotes that supported the police’s version of what happened and waited — and waited.
For almost an hour after the SO took over a deputy called out over a loud speaker. “Aaron. Come out with your hands up. The building is surrounded.” Every few minutes for almost an hour. Over and over. The same tone of voice. No emotion. It could have been a computerized recording it was so precisely repeated, but it wasn’t.
Aaron didn’t come out.
Talking time was up and the SWAT team started in with more powerful tear gas. Volley after volley. No Aaron. He was either immune to the gas or dead.
Soon the team took out the doors and entered the building using flash-bang devices before going into each room - “auditory and visual distractions” they call them.
Hell honey, those are bombs.
Every time they said over the radio they were setting off another one, all the law enforcement guys, suits, SWAT dudes, everybody around me, put their fingers in their ears. I wish I had photographed that, but it is hard to hold a camera with your fingers in your ears.
Time moved faster, soon after the SWAT guys entered they called for the SO medics that had flown in on a chopper. Word came out fast that it was over, Aaron was dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.
It was one o’clock in the morning. There was almost a palpable sigh, a slumping of the shoulders when it was over. I had been at the scene for almost ten hours.
It was not a good resolution. Not the one that everyone; law enforcement, medics, firefighters, friends and family had hoped for.
I remembered what the CHP shooter said after word came in about the fourth shot — “We are in a stand-off with a dead man.”
He was right.
•••••••••••••
Rest in Peace Aaron
These huge boulders are called glacial erratics ... dropped here like this eons ago when the glaciers that covered the island during the last ice age melted.
This is not really erratic behaviour for erratics, since it is not uncommon to find them perched in precarious places such as this. These are up on top of the Annieopsquotch Mountains. I have a photo on my photostream taken from the other side. A photo that really is an optical illusion. This one is a straight on photo taken just today.
www.flickr.com/photos/33774669@N00/4463751866/in/dateposted/
This Australian wood duck is also commonly known as the maned duck. Medium sized with a dark brown head and a pale grey body with two black stripes along the back. Males such as here, have the darker head.
I learned that wood ducks are known to nest above or near water in tree hollows high off the ground - seemingly in contrast to behaviour we expect from ducks.
45 cm length
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This sequence of shots shows a Song Thrush dealing with a snail. It took about four sessions of bashing to break all the shell off the snail. As the bird brings the snail down on the rock the nictitating membrane (third eyelid) covers the eye to prevent it from damage
OBSERVE Collective
All images are © Copyrighted and All Rights Reserved
germanstreetphotography.com/michael-monty-may/
The Weasel's curious behaviour suddenly became a little clearer when it re-emerged from the deeper vegetation carrying one of it's young.
Having seen footage on tv programs about Weasels and Stoats moving their young from one den site to another it was quite an engrossing experience to get to watch it play out for real in front of you.
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bullfinch ~ pyrrhula pyrrhula (behaviour)
RSPB Amber status list.
While I was sitting in the garden I saw a pair of bullfinches. Even though the female kept flying off I thought it was worth trying to take a photo of them both together. As soon as she came back I took this photo as I watched while she accepted food from the male. 1/400 was not a fast enough shutter speed to freeze her movement and flapping wings unfortunately.
A pair of Rufous-necked Hornbill (Aceros nipalensis) was kissing each other in a romantic ambience in their natural habitat. It was the best luck I got after some repeated efforts for four days and even in the final day I had to wait for long three hours for this very precise moment. It lasted for 2-3 seconds. All their behavioural displays were done on branches behind some dense leaves but this time, they changed their display branch and made love in open. Pics was taken from Mahananda Wildlife Sanctuary, West Bengal, India.
Shorebirds of Ireland, Freshwater Birds of Ireland and The Birds of Ireland: A Field Guide with Jim Wilson.
www.markcarmodyphotography.com
The Great Cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo) is a widespread member of the cormorant family of seabirds. It breeds in much of the Old World and the Atlantic coast of North America. In European waters it can be distinguished from the Common Shag by its larger size, heavier build, thicker bill, lack of a crest and plumage without any green tinge. In eastern North America, it is similarly larger and bulkier than Double-crested Cormorant, and the latter species has more yellow on the throat and bill. Great Cormorants are mostly silent, but they make various guttural noises at their breeding colonies.
Many fishermen see in the Great Cormorant a competitor for fish. Because of this it was nearly hunted to extinction in the past. Thanks to conservation efforts its numbers increased.
Cormorant fishing is practiced in China, Japan, and elsewhere around the globe. In it, fishermen tie a line around the throats of cormorants, tight enough to prevent swallowing, and deploy them from small boats. The cormorants catch fish without being able to fully swallow them, and the fishermen are able to retrieve the fish simply by forcing open the cormorants' mouths, apparently engaging the regurgitation reflex.
In North Norway, cormorants are traditionally seen as semi-sacred. (wikipedia)
There are many Cormorants that fish along the shoreline of Dublin Bay. This adult was coming into the base of the east pier, Dun Laoghaire, Dublin.
Jerusalem residents were greeted with a rare snowfall Friday when a storm dumped 10 inches on the city.
Historically, the city sees an average of just four inches a year!
Photo taken in downtown Reykjavík.
P.S. Many of those people are foreign visitors.
Tourism to Iceland has formally exploded in the years after the famous volcanic eruption in the glacier Eyjafjallajökull, which caused delays in flight all over North and Western Europe. Foreign tourism has remained at an extreme level; today more than a million tourists visit Iceland yearly, while the population is only about 330.000 - was around 200 thousand a decade and a half ago.
India, Kerala, Nelliampathi, Wanderoo or Lion-tailed macaque.
…just his kind of macho behavior, or really being angry,
…I decided rather to move on, instead of finding out.
📍….sometimes it is helpful to know someone who knows someone who is friends with a ranger & who is responsible for monitoring the endangered Lion-tailed Macaque...thanks Sania...🙏
So we were able to observe & photograph them in their natural habitat with the necessary distance to the animals & without tourist hype.
There is rarely & only in the company of a ranger individually or with maximal a handful of observers, feeding is absolutely forbidden, after about 2 hours the fun is over & we have to leave, so the monkeys don't get used to people & change their instinctive behaviour.
It is a zestful thing to observe the Wanderoo in the Forest Reserve of Nelliampathi, approximately 70 km straight line between the forest reserve & Kochi on the coast.
Lion-tailed macaques are omnivorous but their diets consists mainly of fruits, but also eat a wide variety of vegetation such as leaves, stems, flowers, buds fungi, occasionally insects, lizards, tree frogs & small mammals are part of their diet.
The Wanderoo monkeys live exclusively in southwestern India in the southern regions of the mountain range Western Ghats. They are diurnal rainforest dwellers & good climbers, spending most of their lives in the trees. In contrast to other macaque species, they avoid human contact & do not colonize plantations.
In their group behaviour they are similar to the other macaques: they live in groups of mostly ten to twenty animals, which are made up of a few males & many females.
There is a distinct hierarchy within the groups. Wanderoos are territorial animals, they initially defend their territory with loud screams against other groups. If this doesn't help, aggressive fights can also occur.
📌….In 2003 a report stated 3000–3500 of these animals live scattered over several areas in Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka. The lion-tailed macaque ranks among the rarest & most endangered primates. Their range has become increasingly isolated & fragmented by the spread of agriculture, tea, coffee, teak wood & cinchona trees, construction of water reservoirs for watering & power generation & human settlements to support such activities. They do not live, feed or travel through plantations, destruction of their habitat & their avoidance of human proximity have led to the drastic decrease of their population.
📌….however, there is hope, actually are about 32 zoos worldwide that have this species in their zoo & participate in a common breeding program.
There are 5 zoos in Germany, 4 in China & 2 in the USA - San Diego, Birmingham, 1 in Canada, 2 Russia, the rest are spread out in zoos in Europe & a few other countries around the world....except India.
👉 One World one Dream,
🙏...Danke, Xièxie 谢谢, Thanks, Gracias, Merci, Grazie, Obrigado, Arigatô, Dhanyavad, Chokrane to you & over
17 million visits in my photostream with countless motivating comments
Ruddy Turnstone has a Conservation Status under the IUCN of Near Threatened
www.iucnredlist.org/species/22693336/254413189
This Ruddy Turnstone was in a group foraging on a pebbly beach on the Yucatan Peninsula in the state of Quintana Roo, southern Mexico. It is showing the characteristic behaviour of turning over stones to locate food.