Auto Focus, Case 3.

Still working with the Auto Focus cases. Case 3 says, "Instantly focus on subjects suddenly entering AF points." I'm not sure that I have the right method for testing these out. I still can't really tell the difference between how the camera is focusing for each case. I think I need to set up a repeatable test and methodically photograph each case. In other news, my daughter can finally get the ball up to the goal on a regular basis when she shoots now! Clearly, she puts her whole body into it.

Furnas, São Miguel, Azores, Portugal.

On the banks of Furnas Lake, in the island of São Miguel in the Azores archipelago, a recent intervention of re-qualification, introduced several events in the landscape with a touch of surrealism and fantasy. In the middle of the woods, this installation made me remember the tale of Hansel and Gretel as the huge basalt cubes methodically aligned could be the bread crumbs left by the kids to remember the way back. Contrary to what happened in the original history published in 1812 by the Grimm brothers, certainly these wouldn't be eaten by the birds.

Furnas, São Miguel, Azores, Portugal.

Nas margens da Lagoa das Furnas, na ilha de São Miguel do arquipélago dos Açores, uma intervenção paisagística de requalificação, introduziu uns quantos acontecimentos na paisagem com um toque de surrealismo e fantasia. No meio da mata, esta instalação, fez-me recordar a tradicional conto do João e da Maria e os telúricos cubos de basalto metodicamente alinhados as migalhas de pão deixadas pelas crianças para recordar o caminho de volta. Ao contrário do que reza a história, recuperada e publicada em 1812 pelos irmãos Grimm, estes não seriam certamente comidos pelos pássaros.

;//w//; My babies <3

TwT Ah this is kind of random but I spent my Christmas working and playing with dollies and decided to take some pictures of Faustus and Euclid together since its been a while. xD Oh, also to show off Faustus' new wig and eyes a bit more I guess haha.

Euclid in rare form not wearing a long dress for once haha. Need to build up the more androgynous/"masculine" side of their wardrobe since I've tended to favor dressing them more femininely since I don't have any super femme dolls (aside from Rift but can't have her out at the same time as Euclid so xD)

;//w//; Anyways, love these two. They are special not just to each other but also to me as Euclid is my favorite doll and Faustus is my most special/significant doll. xD Canonically in their story just before Euclid gets their hair mended is when Faustus is finally cured of his affliction of burning (basically) everything he touches so whenever Eui wears this wig its totally a-ok in my mind to have them touching. Even though they are just dolls and it doesn't actually matter, I almost never had them touch prior as it would have seemed canonically inaccurate and I CAN'T COMPROMISE MY INTEGRITY ...I mean because i'm a huge nerd xDDD

So yeah, ever since I made this wig for Eui these two have been inseparable ;w;

~

//RANT UPDATE FEELS BLAH

But anyways, these two kind of tie into my current state of thoughts/feelings in the hobby so I might as well give some updates on that while i'm here. To be honest, I thought that I was done with reflections and changes for myself in the hobby for a while as I feel like that's all that's been going on with me lately but I still have the deep yearning to change things, set goals and refocus so I suppose i'm not done yet as annoying is that is for me and probably for you guys to bare witness to as well. To start, a lot of my feelings/goals in the hobby are changing still but the one that hasn't budged is that my ultimate main goal in the doll hobby is to get my little conflicted quartet of Faustus, Euclid, Hyacinth and Petra "complete" and as perfect as possible. Thankfully they are pretty close to getting there as I'm so happy and content with all of their head sculpts and Faustus is the only one who I feel needs a body upgrade. Its been WAY too long for them to still be so unfinished and there are so many fun projects I want to do for them so they are definitely priority number one.

I also decided a while back that I wouldn't be starting my reshelling process of Shu/Calliope/Etzel until these four are at an acceptable level of "completeness" to where it feels warranted to begin a new big project. The prospect of not having Shu as a doll for some time definitely pains me as he's so special to me, but I think it'll ultimately frustrate and confuse me a lot less if I focus on a smaller amount of dolls at a time. They will 100% be coming back in the future of course but i'm not putting any set dates to start on that anytime soon.

But really, my Unicorn character's story and these characters have been my greatest love in the hobby since the beginning and continue to be to this day and the longer i'm in the hobby the more I feel like i'd be happiest if this was the only one of my really complex pre-existing stories that I focused on as dolls. I can imagine just focusing on them exclusively and building up their world and the most important characters in it, constantly improving them and making them more clothes, dioramas, etc. and being completely content. Putting forth all my effort and passion into really fleshing them out, you know? The more time goes by the more that notion comes to the forefront of my thoughts and I think all of my confusion and indecisiveness in the hobby has been culminating to this seemingly inevitable conclusion. I've even been annoying myself with how fickle i've become with my dolls lately and I know that isn't the type of person I am and don't want to continue being. I think back on myself when I first joined the hobby when in the beginning I only focused on my Unicorn characters and I think that was when I felt the most happy and when everything made the most sense to me, you know? And ever since I decided to pursue lots of different characters of mine from lots of different stories it made everything so much more difficult, frustrating and I overall just less fun. That isn't to say I have been devoid of enjoyment in the hobby ever since then because that's absolutely not the case, but I just feel that i'd get even more enjoyment out of it while feeling more productive and fulfilled if I focused more heavily on the one thing i've been inspired by the most from the beginning up to now.

That also being said, because i'd so adamantly chosen the path of shelling characters from so many of my very detailed pre-existing stories I kind of cut myself off from having the ability to just get dolls that inspire me and letting my creativity run wild. My Minifee FLAM, Rift, (and to a lesser extend Rumor before her) really opened my eyes to just how much I love the process of creating something new with a doll and just going where the creativity takes me and prior to her I never allowed myself to do that. I adore Rift so much because she gave me something that I had been hungry for ever since I joined the hobby but was to wrapped up in my own ideas to realize; freedom. I've come to understand that there are two main paths one can go down in the hobby; very methodically shelling your own pre-existing characters as dolls or making completely new characters/concepts for dolls that you want and inspire you. I've always known that sticking exclusively to the later path could lead to having too many dolls you don't know what to do with but I don't think I realized that sticking so exclusively to the first path could become limiting and take away the feeling of freedom. I guess what i'm trying to say is that i've been leaning too heavily to one side for too long and I think what I really want is balance and allow myself to walk down both paths rather than restricting myself to just one. I've noticed lots of people tend to do the same thing, like for example some shell important well-developed characters from their story all in SD but then have a bunch of YoSDs or MSDs as their random "fun" dolls, you know? I think a similar approach is what would work best for me in the long run as well. Shelling my most beloved characters from my most beloved story and having the feeling of accomplishment that comes with bring them to life as accurately as possible, but also having a series of dolls that is nothing but pure art and creativity that has no restrictions. Hopefully that makes sense.

T__T Anyway, as much as I think this is ultimately the best course of action for me and what all of the frustration/confusion i've been having these days have been working toward, but this whole thing feels so much more difficult to overcome considering the dolls I currently have on order. Two of them were originally intended to be a part of my Egyptian character's story which if I do commit to pursuing only my Unicorn character's story it just makes it all the more difficult to say goodbye to. (I am thinking that the two who haven't arrived yet I could transition into characters that would fit in with my Unicorn character's story/other plans but we'll see.) I think the biggest thing that has prevented me from really just fully committing to this plan is because I love my Egyptian characters and their story so much as well and I legitimately hate the idea of parting with them as I love both the dolls and characters that they represent. River in particular is a very special doll to me and has always been a huge favorite of mine so the idea of parting with him especially kind of kills me. Like, I consider him my very first real "grail" doll, one that i'd never thought that i'd actually own, so considering parting with him in particular is honestly the hardest decision i've yet had to make and I really don't know yet if I can do it. I desperately want to somehow work him into my Unicorn character's story just so I can justify keeping him. I absolutely refuse to force random new characters into my Unitrios story as I care to much about its integrity for that, but perhaps there may be an existing character in the story that he could suit with minor alterations. I've never successfully been able to give a new character to a doll that previously had one but i'm willing to try again for him~

But as much as I do love River and his story I still feel so much more passionately about my Unicorn characters and could still so easily imagine myself giving my Egyptian characters up in favor of them and not regretting it. No sacrifice i've made for the sake of improving my Unicorn characters i've ever regretted so far since they really do mean that much to me, but still, even knowing that doesn't make committing to this any easier. Again, i'm going to do everything in my power to justify keeping River only as a different character but Raum and the other two dolls I have on order I originally planned for their story I very well may not end up keeping.

Then there is the matter of the other doll I have on order, my F60 Cygne. I think she is really what pushed me over the edge to really understanding just how much I wanted freedom in the hobby and my desire to finally just commit to getting a doll because I love and am inspired by it. It kind of goes against my new course of action if I end up making her my character IbbI as she is also from one of my really complex and pre-existing stories and I really do not want to branch out beyond the one, but really, I find this particular doll to be so inspiring that I could imagine her as a dozen different things and be just as in love with all of them. That kind of leads me into what i'm possibly thinking of for my "fun" group of dolls in the future. I mentioned before that the vast majority of dolls i've been intensely captivated by and consider "grails" in some form or another are SDs. I think logically it just makes the most sense that a size that i've always found so intriguing and inspiring is the size I should devote to my purely creative endeavors. Even before Cygne was a thing I had been thinking for a long time about making a series of dolls that tie together but don't have a super specific story or have really developed characters but are at their core each meant to be a beautiful work of art centered around a theme. They'd all be really intricate and unique projects most involving mods and dyeing and would be the perfect way to own dolls i've always loved but otherwise couldn't justify owning, realize ideas I couldn't do with my specific characters dolls because it wouldn't be canonically accurate, and really challenge my skills and creativity in a way that only having no limits could be possible. Of course, whether or not I actually enjoy SDs in real life is still up in the air as I haven't got to hold a complete one in my hands yet so whether or not I actually pursue this is dependent on how I feel about them when my Cygne arrives, but I am really hoping I end up liking the size as i'm ridiculously inspired by this project. I'll of course share more about it if/when it ends up working out, but yeah, just know that they would be the most unique and captivating dolls ever and i'm sure you guys would absolutely adore them ;w;

If it does end up working it kind of creates another problem with Rift and her little "fun" side project if I wanted to remain size-specific, but I suppose i'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

And as far who Cygne will end up being i'm not entirely sure at this point but i'm alright with waiting until she arrives to figure it out exactly. I'll probably make more mockups and such for some other ideas I have for her but idk if you guys would want to see even more of those at this point haha xD

Ack, anyways rambling as usual, sorry, but hopefully that kind of explains where i'm coming from and how i'm feeling. I swear this is going to be the last reflective/somber update i'm going to have in a LONG time because at this point I know what has been plaguing me and now feel confident in building things up even stronger once things have been sorted out for good. Not certain as to what will happen with River, Raum, my DIM Annabeth or Sio2 Ragdoll yet but hopefully I can work River and Annabeth into my Unicorn character's story and Ragdoll perhaps can be some sort of companion to my Cygne, we'll see.

Despite the idea of possibly having to say goodbye to more dolls/stories i'm actually not sad at all, instead relieved. It feels like a weight has been lifted and I feel more inspired than ever to make the dolls I have something truly special and press forward with both clear goals but also the freedom to go where the creativity lies. This year has been difficult for me both with dolls and with life but I've learned a lot about myself and what I truly want out of my dolls. 2016 was a year of darkness and sad goodbyes for both me and in the perspective of most people in general, but i'm keeping positive that 2017 will be full of creativity, progress and and wonderful new things.

I really appreciate everyone who has stuck with me through this whole process and encouraged me to follow my heart no matter how difficult that can be at times.

*hugs*

---

Faustus (right, boy) is a Soom R. Shale in Cream White skin. Faceup, horn and wig by me.

Euclid (left, gender fluid) is a modded Fairyland Minifee Luka in Beautiful White skin. Faceup, mods, horn, wig and harness by me.

One symptom of my illness was self-harm. Cutting is often a methodical, ritualised act and is a way of keeping control of emotions or situations, or to create pain where numbness only seems to exist. It reminds cutters that we can still feel.

Part of a series called 'Out of My Mind', documenting my personal journey through mental illness, inspired by the works of Jo Spence and Cindy Sherman.

Photographed on 35mm Black and White film and processed and printed by me on 10x8 gloss paper.

Diana and John invited me into their apartment, a room they now rent from a local man. As we entered the elevator a drug dealer held the door for us. Diana said to him, “You can’t make fun of me now. I got a place in here.”

They were happy to be off the streets. "It's amazing to be inside, out of the elements and not freezing where we could die. It's hard, but we got this room for $80 a week."

They had copped six bags of crack and started to smoke them, a quiet ritual that they worked at methodically. Diana cleaned the pipe between hits. "When I'm high I have to clean the pipe. If I'm not cleaning that I have to be cleaning something else."

After twenty minutes she started dressing to work the streets: Wig, make-up, jacket. “Ok, enough. I am tweaking. We need to get out of here.”

Outside, I asked her about the interaction with the drug dealer. “They tell me I am a crackhead. I ain’t a crackhead. I shower. I get my nails and hair done. Crackheads are dirty.”

This massive buck is the largest one I've seen at the Palmyra Cove Nature Park over the three years I've now been visiting. I've spotted him several years in a row, as have some of my friends who also visit here. He is built like an NFL linebacker; a thick neck and a wide and impressive rack. I came across him by chance as I was leaving the park. A doe was by the roadside, so I eased the car to a stop near the doe. As I scanned the nearby woods, I noticed this monster buck about 25 feet behind the doe. He slowly and methodically moved closer to the doe and where I was positioned. As he got closer, I must admit that I did get a bit nervous as the doe began stomping her foot very purposefully which is an alert sign to the other deer. The last thing that I wanted was to be charged by this testosterone loaded giant. Thankfully, that did not happen. Best viewed large (L).

It's Monday and the week begins. Enjoy the day!

This little cutie must have made dozens of trips back and forth, methodically emptying out the contents of this jack-o-lantern Goodie Bowl. Said contents being a variety of mixed nuts, both whole and shelled - both ready for immediate consumption and/or immediate burial for later consumption.

Our Backyard Harvest Fest, for or backyard visitors, hopefully met its goal this year in helping out our furry and feathered friends in fueling up for winter, which is just the corner.

Canon AE-1

FD 50mm f/1.8

Kodak Ektar

Hong Kong // Lantau Peak

The right side of this image is a result of an imperfect double exposure; I accidentally moved the rewind crank slightly. I kind of like it however, I think it adds some spice to an otherwise boring shot. I recently bought a bright yellow Holga 135! The little thing is so fun to shoot. I have no idea how anything will turn out, so I'm free to shoot carelessly which is quite a relief from my normal, methodical pattern. To keep the lomo trend going, I just loaded my AE-1 with some lomochrome purple, after saving it for around a month. Intensely excited to see how everything turns out

Took another trip to Heybridge, Maldon, on 7/1/24 (Essex, UK) to get better views of the Northern Waterthrush, and it didn't disappoint. This bird breeds in North America and normally spends the winter in the mangroves of South and Central America. It most likely arrived in the autumn, when there was an unprecedented arrival of Nearctic landbirds in the UK, thanks to the remnants of Hurricane Lee.

It had no trouble finding food, and was feeding on what looked like fly larvae, and would methodically work its way along the margins of the the sluice ditch, and floating vegetation while almost continuously bobbing its tail. And would occasionally give a hard “chink” call, especially in flight.

There have been eight recorded sightings of Northern Waterthrush in the UK between 1958 and 2024.

A couple of days ago I met this young man walking his baby dog..They seemed to have a great friendship,which I'm sure will be lifelong :) After reading the moving story Jacii posted below his awesome shot,I thought it could symbolize that friendship... Unfortunately ,if there's nobody at home to help me ,I cannot do even the simplest things such as posting the link of my contacts ..I expect Jacii will help me with that ..or by showing his presence with that beautiful yet sad story he'll make his address known..

Sevgili arkadaşlar,

Bir iki gün önce bu ikilinin arasında ,belli ki hayat boyu sürecek bir dostluğa şahit oldum

Jacii'nin resmi altındaki etkileyici öyküyü okuduktan sonra o dostluğu sembolize edeceğini düşünerek bu kareyi yüklemeye karar verdim...ne yazık ki link yüklemeyi beceremiyorum...jacii'nin bana bu konuda yardımcı olmasını bekliyorum...Ancak öyküyü buraya eklerse de Türkçe'sini bulmam mümkün değil..Çok özür dilerim !

The Old Man and the Dog

by

Catherine Moore

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me.

"Can't you do anything right?"

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.

"I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack

competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it;

but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to

the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We

hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week

after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was

satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody.

Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.

Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman

set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he

prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and

God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called

each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my

problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I

was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read

something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she

read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home All of

the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes

had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a

questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of

disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained

five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted

dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one

after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I

neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his

feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of

the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had

etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in

lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention.

Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. "Can

you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.

"He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?"

"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

"Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I

don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

"You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty

lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for

tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting

in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a

favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.

The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see

the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers."

"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article...

Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter... his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father...and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood.

I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly.

Live While You Are Alive.

Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.

And if you don't send this to at least 4 people - who cares? But do share this with someone.

Lost time can never be found .

#278 July 22,2008 Thank you all :)

Indian Cuckoo (Cuculus micropterus)

The generic name derives from the onomatopoeic name for a cuckoo, based on the bird's call, in Old English = coccou or cukkow, in French = coucou and in Greek = kokkux or kokkyx. The specific name results from a combination of two Greek words: micro = little or very small and ptero = wing. Together, the name literally means "small winged cuckoo" which is reflected in an early common name.

Other common names: Short-winged Cuckoo, Indian Hawk-Cuckoo.

Taxonomy: Cuculus micropterus Gould 1837, Himalayas.

Sub-species & Distribution: Two races are recognised, both of which are found in this region:

micropterus Gould 1837, Himalayas. Ranges from India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Myanmar and Thailand, east to E China, Mongolia, Korea and E Russia. It winters south to the Andamans and Nicobars, West Malaysia, Singapore, Sumatra, Java, Borneo and the Philippines.

concretus S. Müller 1845, Borneo. This smaller resident form is found in Borneo, Sumatra and Java. It is also found from Phattalung, in S Thailand, south to Johore (Medway & Wells 1976).

Similar species: It is very similar to two other Cuculus species. The Common Cuckoo C. canorus does not occur in this region. The Oriental Cuckoo C. saturatus is a rare winter visitor and passage migrant. Both these birds do not have a broad black sub-terminal band, tipped with white, on the tail.

Size: 12½ to 13" (31 to 33 cm). Sexes differ slightly.

Description: Male: Head and neck dark ashy-grey tinged with brown, paler on the lores, chin, throat and upper breast. Remaining upperparts, scapulars and wing coverts dark ashy-brown, the primaries and secondaries similar but barred with white along the inner webs. Tail dark ashy-brown with a broad black sub-terminal band and tipped with white. Basally, the tail feathers have a series of alternating white and black bands, more on the outer feathers than the inner ones, often with white or rufous notches along both edges. Lower breast and abdomen creamy-white, boldly barred with dark blackish-brown bars, the vent, axillaries, undertail and underwing coverts more narrowly barred with blackish-brown.

Female: Very like the male, with the throat and breast tinged with rufous.

Immature birds: Juvenile birds appear largely white to rufous-white with dark brown bars on the head, nape, upper back, chin, throat, sides of neck and breast, the face and ear coverts less heavily marked. Remaining upperparts, including wing coverts more rufous, the feathers broadly edged with rufous-buff and tipped with white. Lower breast, belly and vent pale buffy-white, broadly barred with blackish-brown, more so on the flanks. The tail appears largely to be barred with rufous and black, with more numerous bars than adult have. They, too, like the adults, have a broad black sub-terminal tail band.

Gradually, the white and rufous edges on the upperparts disappear, the throat and upper breast turn ashy, and the bars on the underparts become more defined. Within five months of leaving the nest, the young are almost in adult plumage, the rufous band across the upper breast being ultimately lost except in females. However, they often have rufous or whitish tips to the flight feathers and upperwing coverts (Oates & Blanford 1895).

Soft parts: Iris dark yellowish-brown, orbital ring orange-yellow. Upper mandible black, lower mandible greenish-horn tipped with black, gape orange-yellow. Legs and feet orange-yellow, claws black.

Status, Habitat & Behaviour: A common winter visitor and passage migrant, is found throughout Singapore, the earliest date being 14th September, the latest date 19th May (Wang & Hails 2007). Between these two dates, this bird has not been recorded in Singapore, which suggests that C. m. concretus, the resident form found south to Johore in west Malaysia, does not occur in Singapore.

The nominate form is a vagrant to Borneo where C. m. concretus, a smaller and darker form, is also the resident race (Smythies & Davison 1999), up to 1100 m (3300 feet) in the Kelabit Highlands of Sarawak. In Sabah, it is found in primary, peatswamp and logged forests (Sheldon et. al. 2001).

In Singapore, it is more usually found in forests, along forest edges, in mangroves, secondary scrub and, occasionally, in gardens and parks (Wang & Hails 2007). In West Malaysia, both resident and migrant forms are found to 760 m (2500 feet), in the canopy of lowland and hill forests, as well as on offshore islands (Medway & Wells 1976). In India and Nepal, where it is very common in summer, it can be found in fairly wooded country to 2300 m, even up to 3700 m (Baker 1927).

A solitary and shy bird, it is generally found singly and easily overlooked, keeping to the treetops or flying hawk-like over the forest canopy. During the breeding season, however, it becomes very vocal, calling incessantly during the early hours of dawn and again at dusk, far into the night, especially on moonlit nights, even calling on the wing during courtship chases (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Food: It mainly eats caterpillars, ants, locustids, fruit, butterflies and grasshoppers (Smythies 1968), sometimes coming down to the ground, hopping about awkwardly to pick up insects from within the leaf litter (Ali & Ripley 1969). In Singapore, it was found feeding at a termite hatch (Subaraj 2008).

Voice and Calls: In India, its most common four-note call is a fine melodious pleasing whistle from which evolved some of its popular local names, Bo-kota-ko in Bengali (Jerdon 1862), Kyphulpakka (Oates & Blanford 1895), and the "Broken Pekoe" bird in English (Baker & Inglis 1930). The call has also been variously annotated by several other authors: as "crossword puzzle" (Ali & Ripley 1969), a far-carrying wa-wa-wa-wu (Medway & Wells 1976), a flute-like ko-ko-ta-ko (King, Woodcock & Dickinson 1975), as reminiscent of the beginning of Beethoven's 5th symphony (Sheldon et. al. 2001). There are several other interpretations of its call (Tsang 2010).

In the Kelabit Highlands of Sarawak, its call was continuously heard in late February over sub-montane forest at 900 m (3000 feet). The loud four-note call was fairly musical, koh-koh-koh-kok, the first three syllables on the same pitch, the third sometimes higher, the last note always lower. It was persistently uttered for several minutes at a time, each burst of four-note lasting slightly over one second with about two seconds between each burst, occasional with a fifteen to thirty seconds break between each set of notes. Once or twice, it made a more rounded fluting and musical variation of the same four notes. Most of the time, the call was echoed, almost synchronously, by a four-note squeaking call, much more shrill and softer, sometimes in a lower key (Sreedharan 2005).

It usually calls from the tops of tall trees or when flying from tree to tree (Jerdon 1862), and much more persistently during breeding season, often calling all night long (Smythies 1968). The call is uttered intermittently for hours on end, for more than five minutes at a stretch, at about 23 calls per minute, and, while courting a nearby female, the wings are dropped, the tail spread wide and erected, the bird pivoting from side to side (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Breeding: Very little is known of the breeding of this Cuckoo. It is brood parasitic and, instead of building its own nest, it surreptitiously lays eggs in the nests of several host species, its choice of victim varying from location to location. The nominate form, C. m. micropterus, does not breed in our area. The local form, C. m. concretus breeds in peninsular Malaysia.

The breeding season varies from May to July in northern China, March to August in India, January to June in Burma and January to August in the Malay Peninsula.

In India, the host species are said to be Streaked Laughing-Thrush Garrulax lineatus, White-bellied Redstart Hodgsonius phoenicuroides, Indian Bush-Chat Saxicola torquata and Indian Blue Robin Luscinia brunnea, all of which lay blue or bluish eggs, similar to those of this Cuckoo (Baker 1927).

Additionally, it is said to victimise species such as Fork-tailed Drongo Dicrurus adsimilis, Ashy Drongo Dicrurus leucophaeus but other species, "in whose nests putative eggs of this cuckoo are claimed to have been found, or have been observed feeding its young", include the Asian Paradise-flycatcher Terpsiphone paradisi, the Streaked Spiderhunter Arachnothera magna and, in Sri Lanka, the Black-hooded Oriole Oriolus xanthornus (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Given the difficulty in determining the identity of young cuckoos, it is hardly surprising that these two authors have included a caveat, stating that the available data on the breeding biology of this bird, indeed, of all parasitic cuckoos are, "by and large, meagre, and of dubious authenticity. Most accounts are vague, largely conjectural and often contradictory. The whole subject calls for a more methodical de novo re-investigation".

Currently, this picture (Ong 2008), of a juvenile Indian Cuckoo fostered by a Black-and-yellow Broadbill Eurylaimus ochromalus provides the only incontrovertible evidence of a confirmed host in Malaysia. In Amurland, Siberia, its main host is the Brown Shrike Lanius cristatus, the cuckoo's eggs hatching in about 12 days, two to three days sooner than that of the shrike (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Oviduct eggs from females are said to be of two types: whitish with small reddish-brown dots, closely matching drongo eggs, or pale greyish-blue, like those of the Turdinae, the eggs c. 25 x 19 mm in size (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Migration: Seventeen night-flying migrants, attributed to C. m. micropterus, were caught at Fraser's Hill from 10th October to 27th November and 7th to 14th April between 1966 and 1969. Birds on passage were also collected in November at One Fathom Bank Lighthouse and on Rembia and Pisang islands. None of these belonged to the resident races have been handled (Medway & Wells 1976).

Moult: In the Family Cuculidae, moult strategy is quite complex, occasionally suspended. The primaries moult from two centres, P1 to P4 descendantly, P5 to P10 ascendantly. The secondaries, too, have two centres, S1 to S5 centripetally, S6 to S9 ascendant and alternate. Tail moult is irregular. They moult twice annually, undergoing a partial summer moult and a complete winter moult which finishes in early spring (Baker 1993).

None of the migrant birds from the off-shore sources were in moult. The migrants caught at Fraser's Hill in autumn were all in post-juvenile or adult plumage, indicating that the annual moult is completed in the breeding grounds, before they reach winter quarters (Medway & Wells 1976).

A recent acquaintance loves to photograph architecture when she travels. She is so methodical about it that she keeps a log with the address of each building she photographs.

I do something similar in museums, where I photograph the label as well as the object on display.

The advantage of recording the addresses of architectural subjects is one can research the building later.

The disadvantage is that walking tours would take even longer because of the need to maintain the address log. Also, the time spent researching the structure and writing up the results would greatly delay posting the photos to Flickr. Had I done that, I estimate I'd be posting my photos from the end of this tour in Vilnius, Lithuania some time in 2020.

yep, some methodical strategic munching - nom ,nom ,nom .

Been settlin’ in here pretty well. Got all my old books, Amanda gave me all the patient files we’ve accumulated so far, and Pammy even sent me a plant! I hope she doesn’t expect it to survive though, I just haven’t got the green thumbs she’s got. But hey! Who does! Anyways, I’m not gonna lie, it’s pretty wild seein Belle Reve change so much. This place used to be a white-walled hell. Now it’s almost an actual functioning mental hospital. I wonder if Arkham could ever reach even this point. Even Amanda’s different. Sure she’s still hard-ass, made-of-stone Waller, but now there’s somethin’ different, even in just the way she talks. I mean she gave me this position for gosh sake’s! I never expected to go from bein holed up in one of the cells downstairs to havin’ my own office, but here I am, and I got her to thank for it of all people.

June Moone on the other hand, feels different. Turns out, when Floyd and the boys went to nail that Pentagram cult, they got sucked into the same dimension Juney was sucked into a while back and came back with not only her, but two of the Pentagram creeps, and of all people, Prometheus. How he got there I have no clue, Waller hasn’t let anyone talk to him. Instantly, ole purple-pants got locked away in the basement somewhere.

Anyways, June. To her, most of the last year of being trapped in The Enchantress was partially Waller’s fault. Not only that, but June’s only used to being exploited by Waller, despite the initial offer to help June get more control over her headmate, that never really happened, and now I can’t blame June for wantin’ to get as far away from here as possible now that her headmate’s moved out. I’m sure it was a genuine surprise to her when Amanda offered to let her go. Amanda didn’t even consider keepin’ the kid. Makes me wonder how she makes decisions. Maybe some time she’ll let me dig into that brain of hers (that’s a pipe-dream Harls, face it now). Either way, It’s a stroke of pure coincidence that the people to get her back out were Digger and Floyd of all people (also note to self, Angelo Bend’s gonna need a metric ton of therapy. Bito Wladon seems to be as smug as ever.)

As for June herself, I got to catch up with her a little bit. For someone that’s been locked in the portal from Event Horizon for a year, she’s takin’ the trauma real well. But I suppose when you transmogrify into an eldritch witch on a daily basis, you get kind of used to living in a horror movie. Not to toot my own kazoo, but I know firsthand how much trauma a girl can take. Turns out when she turned into Enchantress, she didn’t lose her memories completely, but it plays out like a bad nightmare. She just comes back with fragments. A couple horrifying visions, a few lasting scars (a real big one on her side now thanks to Floyd), and some severe nausea. She’s learned to take in stride though. For everything she’s been through, June Moone seems surprisingly well adjusted.

But boy howdy does she miss that crocodile.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Amanda Waller’s office has never been what’s considered “inviting”, but then again, neither has she. Over years, she has cultivated its atmosphere to be as spartan as possible. One chair rests behind a long, plain desk. One lamp, sits upon that desk, and another light, bare and sparse, hangs from the ceiling. There are no other pieces of furniture, merely dozens of filing cabinets, lining the walls like steadfast tin soldiers, stuffed with decades of paperwork. It is a place of business, for a woman of business.

To Doctor Quinzel, it’s another prison cell, as cold and gray as the hollow rooms she herself has spent many a month in. If she were on duty, she’d describe Amanda Waller as in a prison of her own making, surrounding herself with this sort of atmosphere on purpose, because deep down, she knows she’s just a prisoner herself, with no chance of escape.

But Harleen isn’t here for Amanda.

Waller taps her fingers together dramatically. Methodically. Weighing her options.

Waller: So Enchantress is gone.

June: Yes, Miss Waller.

Waller: . . . prove it.

June, casually: Enchantress.

There is a crackle in the air, but it’s of anticipation. Nothing happens.

Waller: I see. Well, Miss Moone, we’re going to have to come to some kind of arrangement. Doctor Quinzel, is it advisable that Miss Moone here be allowed on the street?

Harley: Clean bill of health, boss.

June: Wait, you’re letting me go?

Waller: Frankly, girl, there’s no reason to keep you. I assume you’ve still got that little firecracker in your head, we’ll have that removed tomorrow morning. All we ask is for you to sign these contracts of utter and complete secrecy.

June, reaching for a pen: The Squad has changed a lot, hasn’t it?

Waller: Less than you think. Say word one to anyone that the Squad still exists, and you know who’ll come to collect. Read it all there in the fine print.

There is an unnecessarily tense moment as June scrawls her name deftly over the blank line. Once, twice, in triplicate, and sets the pen on the desk.

Waller: Thank you. You’ll be free in the morning, Miss Moone. Now if you two will excuse me.

Amanda Waller moves to file hours’ worth of paperwork. It’s the most dreary part of the job, but also the part that she knows can’t go wrong. Unlike with people, who oftentimes refuse to do as they’re told. June Moone, for instance, hasn’t left her seat yet.

Waller, flatly: Can I help you, child?

June: Do you have Waylon here?

Waller looks at June over her glasses, looks at Harley, then back at June. Her expression is unreadable.

Waller: No.

June: Is that a truthful no, or an Amanda Waller no?

At that, Waller smiles.

Harley: We don’t have him, Juney. No one’s seen him since the whole Cloudburst thing.

Waller: Well, that’s not entirely true.

June, accusingly: You do have him!

Waller: Simmer down, girl, we don’t. He’s in Arkham’s basement where, no offense to your little romance, most people would say he belongs. Now before you say another word, if it ensures your silence, I’ll make a few calls and get you in to see him. Now. Can I help you with anything else?

June smiles, it’s faint, but it’s cheerful, and shakes her head gently.

June: Thank you, Miss Waller.

Waller: Don’t mention it, girl. Now please, I’ve got stacks of transfer sheets to go through. Report to John, the ‘official’ warden tomorrow at seven. He’ll see you out.

June: Of course, of course. Thank you again.

Doctor Harleen Quinzel watches June Moone go. Amanda Waller, already nose-deep in paper, does not.

Harley: If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re getting soft, ‘Miss Waller’.

Waller: You don’t know better, doc, now do me a favor and leave me in peace.

Harley smiles: Sure, boss;

And shuts the door behind her.

Excerpt from battlefieldhouse.ca:

Samuel Nash immigrated to Upper Canada from Connecticut in 1800 and married Susannah Gage ten years later. The newly married couple was deeded land from Susannah's father, William Gage. On this land, a house would be built that witnessed two centuries of local history. In fact, the homestead was used as a hospital during the Battle of Stoney Creek in 1813. Moreover, the house is truly unique because five successive generations of the same family inhabited it.

A log cabin was built first on the property, as was typical of most settlers in the area. By 1810, a two-storey Georgian-style dwelling was complete, and Samuel and Susannah Nash's farm prospered.

Throughout the years, the Grandview (Nash-Jackson House) would be remodeled mostly due to the growing needs of the family. For instance, Anna Catherine Nash, who lived in the home with her husband Samuel Nash II, built the side addition between 1870 and 1880 (as shown in the picture above) because she wanted a little more room.

In subsequent years, the gingerbread porch was also replaced, and a second bathroom was constructed adjacent to the master bedroom.

Leone (Nash) Jackson and her husband Angus Jackson, were the fourth generation to live in the house, and together they had three children. Mrs. Leone Jackson died in 1996, and through the generosity of her family, the home was donated to the City of Stoney Creek. The house will be used as a gift shop and tearoom to complement the site, and will stand as a permanent dedication to the family that once lived in it.

On November 7, 1999, the Grandview (Nash-Jackson House) was moved to Battlefield Park, and with the house came two centuries of a family's heritage which intertwines with Stoney Creek's social history. This is not a separate realm of social accounts, but one that is historically linked to Battlefield House and Stoney Creek. Family surnames such as Gage, Quigley, Burkholder, Munn, Nash, MacDonald, Jackson, Potruff, Jones and Spera all contribute to a rich history which involves thousands of descendants.

The Grandview (Nash-Jackson House) is a Georgian-style dwelling completed in 1810. It is accompanied by a unique collection of antique furniture and decor. In the future, the historic home will complement Battlefield Park by providing a tea room, gift shop and social function facility. Of course, the house will always stand as a living commemoration to the family that once lived there.

In writing about her family's background, Leone (Nash) Jackson remarked, "I find now that my ancestors were not sufficiently methodical to keep family records... but I do think it is interesting to [do so]." When your family history includes stories of joy, tragedy, prosperity and success, keeping family records becomes increasingly appealing. The Grandview (Nash-Jackson House) was on a Crown grant of land, which five successive generations of the Nash family inhabited. Moreover, the house was used as a hospital for the wounded during the Battle of Stoney Creek.

Around 1800, Samuel Nash came to Upper Canada from Connecticut. He married Susannah Gage and the family tree took root on the corner of Nash Road and King Street. Together, Samuel and Susannah had six children. Unfortunately, Susannah died in 1823, and Samuel subsequently remarried "the widow" Barbara Spera. Spera had eight children from her previous marriage. Samuel had such a large number of children enrolled in school from both marriages, the school board would not accept them without payment of an additional tax. Samuel asserted that he only paid taxes on land, and not on children. Around this time, a young teacher was visiting the area and stopped near the Nash House to retrieve water for his horse. Samuel was so delighted that he promptly hired the young traveller for f50 a year. To accommodate a school setting, Mr. Nash built a schoolroom on his property. These decisions regarding his children's education likely cost more than the tax addition initially requested, but they show Samuel's determination.

This story had a rather romantic ending because the teacher, Mr. Dunning, married Hannah, the oldest daughter of Samuel and Susannah Nash. They moved to Chicago, but visited Stoney Creek periodically.

Oddity.

I was trawling through my old 365s earlier looking for inspiration and found an iteration of this and decided to give it a redo.

I managed to get the bedroom dark enough then got set up. Tripod 1 facing the only bit of bare wall big enough to fit me in and framed myself. I tucked 1 x Yongnuo 560iv in the back of my shorts with an old orange water pistol tank over the end, then once happy I added the blue fiber optics from lp brushes. Once happy with that I set up tripod two facing a piece of black card covered in pin pricks and worked on placement of the main flares and their formation. I boxed that off and returned to tripod 1.

I fired the shutter which fired the flash then reached for the blue fibers gripped between my thighs. I worked on my left hand first and my torso then my head before swapping hands and lighting my right hand. I replaced the lens cap, swapped tripods and lenses from 20mm to 50mm. I removed that lens cap and methodically created the stars back lighting the card until happy. Job done.

Originally inspired by the sublime work of R Digi.

All shot in a single long exposure with some light tinkering in Lightroom for mobile.

Happy days.

L found a place to park his cars! I didn't dare move them so I could practice, but instead asked him sweetly to move them to another place (where we wouldn't trip over them!). He agreed without a fuss :-) ...no meltdown...everyone's happy. But how creative of him...the cars fit so snuggly between the keys!

Methodically patrolling the strip between land and sea.

Brahminy Kite, Port Macquarie, N.S.W. North Coast

Hermann Melville, Moby Dick, 1851

"Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can"

Can't wait to get to the sea again, this year, somewhere, just to get lost in its beautiful vastity and contemplate my beloved clouds playing above it.

Hermann Melville, Moby Dick, 1851

"Chiamatemi Ismaele. Alcuni anni fa – non importa quanti esattamente – avendo pochi o punti denari in tasca e nulla di particolare che m'interessasse a terra, pensai di darmi alla navigazione e vedere la parte acquea del mondo. È un modo che ho io di cacciare la malinconia e di regolare la circolazione. Ogni volta che m'accorgo di atteggiare le labbra al torvo, ogni volta che nell'anima mi scende come un novembre umido e piovigginoso, ogni volta che mi accorgo di fermarmi involontariamente dinanzi alle agenzie di pompe funebri e di andar dietro a tutti i funerali che incontro, e specialmente ogni volta che il malumore si fa tanto forte in me che mi occorre un robusto principio morale per impedirmi di scendere risoluto in istrada e gettare metodicamente per terra il cappello alla gente, allora decido che è tempo di mettermi in mare al più presto."

Non vedo l'ora, quest'anno, di ritornare sul mare a perdermi da qualche parte nella sua affascinante immensità e contemplare le mie nuvole adorate mentre vi giocano sopra.

They are very methodical about looking for food crumbs dropped by passing tourists around the Manning Park lodge.

This is a tighter crop of the picture below, there were three Gulls intimidating the Buzzard, he did move on eventually, but in his own carefree methodical time, circling to get hight and leave them behind :-)

REAR VIEW of Indian Cuckoo (Cuculus micropterus)

The generic name derives from the onomatopoeic name for a cuckoo, based on the bird's call, in Old English = coccou or cukkow, in French = coucou and in Greek = kokkux or kokkyx. The specific name results from a combination of two Greek words: micro = little or very small and ptero = wing. Together, the name literally means "small winged cuckoo" which is reflected in an early common name.

Other common names: Short-winged Cuckoo, Indian Hawk-Cuckoo.

Taxonomy: Cuculus micropterus Gould 1837, Himalayas.

Sub-species & Distribution: Two races are recognised, both of which are found in this region:

micropterus Gould 1837, Himalayas. Ranges from India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Myanmar and Thailand, east to E China, Mongolia, Korea and E Russia. It winters south to the Andamans and Nicobars, West Malaysia, Singapore, Sumatra, Java, Borneo and the Philippines.

concretus S. Müller 1845, Borneo. This smaller resident form is found in Borneo, Sumatra and Java. It is also found from Phattalung, in S Thailand, south to Johore (Medway & Wells 1976).

Similar species: It is very similar to two other Cuculus species. The Common Cuckoo C. canorus does not occur in this region. The Oriental Cuckoo C. saturatus is a rare winter visitor and passage migrant. Both these birds do not have a broad black sub-terminal band, tipped with white, on the tail.

Size: 12½ to 13" (31 to 33 cm). Sexes differ slightly.

Description: Male: Head and neck dark ashy-grey tinged with brown, paler on the lores, chin, throat and upper breast. Remaining upperparts, scapulars and wing coverts dark ashy-brown, the primaries and secondaries similar but barred with white along the inner webs. Tail dark ashy-brown with a broad black sub-terminal band and tipped with white. Basally, the tail feathers have a series of alternating white and black bands, more on the outer feathers than the inner ones, often with white or rufous notches along both edges. Lower breast and abdomen creamy-white, boldly barred with dark blackish-brown bars, the vent, axillaries, undertail and underwing coverts more narrowly barred with blackish-brown.

Female: Very like the male, with the throat and breast tinged with rufous.

Immature birds: Juvenile birds appear largely white to rufous-white with dark brown bars on the head, nape, upper back, chin, throat, sides of neck and breast, the face and ear coverts less heavily marked. Remaining upperparts, including wing coverts more rufous, the feathers broadly edged with rufous-buff and tipped with white. Lower breast, belly and vent pale buffy-white, broadly barred with blackish-brown, more so on the flanks. The tail appears largely to be barred with rufous and black, with more numerous bars than adult have. They, too, like the adults, have a broad black sub-terminal tail band.

Gradually, the white and rufous edges on the upperparts disappear, the throat and upper breast turn ashy, and the bars on the underparts become more defined. Within five months of leaving the nest, the young are almost in adult plumage, the rufous band across the upper breast being ultimately lost except in females. However, they often have rufous or whitish tips to the flight feathers and upperwing coverts (Oates & Blanford 1895).

Soft parts: Iris dark yellowish-brown, orbital ring orange-yellow. Upper mandible black, lower mandible greenish-horn tipped with black, gape orange-yellow. Legs and feet orange-yellow, claws black.

Status, Habitat & Behaviour: A common winter visitor and passage migrant, is found throughout Singapore, the earliest date being 14th September, the latest date 19th May (Wang & Hails 2007). Between these two dates, this bird has not been recorded in Singapore, which suggests that C. m. concretus, the resident form found south to Johore in west Malaysia, does not occur in Singapore.

The nominate form is a vagrant to Borneo where C. m. concretus, a smaller and darker form, is also the resident race (Smythies & Davison 1999), up to 1100 m (3300 feet) in the Kelabit Highlands of Sarawak. In Sabah, it is found in primary, peatswamp and logged forests (Sheldon et. al. 2001).

In Singapore, it is more usually found in forests, along forest edges, in mangroves, secondary scrub and, occasionally, in gardens and parks (Wang & Hails 2007). In West Malaysia, both resident and migrant forms are found to 760 m (2500 feet), in the canopy of lowland and hill forests, as well as on offshore islands (Medway & Wells 1976). In India and Nepal, where it is very common in summer, it can be found in fairly wooded country to 2300 m, even up to 3700 m (Baker 1927).

A solitary and shy bird, it is generally found singly and easily overlooked, keeping to the treetops or flying hawk-like over the forest canopy. During the breeding season, however, it becomes very vocal, calling incessantly during the early hours of dawn and again at dusk, far into the night, especially on moonlit nights, even calling on the wing during courtship chases (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Food: It mainly eats caterpillars, ants, locustids, fruit, butterflies and grasshoppers (Smythies 1968), sometimes coming down to the ground, hopping about awkwardly to pick up insects from within the leaf litter (Ali & Ripley 1969). In Singapore, it was found feeding at a termite hatch (Subaraj 2008).

Voice and Calls: In India, its most common four-note call is a fine melodious pleasing whistle from which evolved some of its popular local names, Bo-kota-ko in Bengali (Jerdon 1862), Kyphulpakka (Oates & Blanford 1895), and the "Broken Pekoe" bird in English (Baker & Inglis 1930). The call has also been variously annotated by several other authors: as "crossword puzzle" (Ali & Ripley 1969), a far-carrying wa-wa-wa-wu (Medway & Wells 1976), a flute-like ko-ko-ta-ko (King, Woodcock & Dickinson 1975), as reminiscent of the beginning of Beethoven's 5th symphony (Sheldon et. al. 2001). There are several other interpretations of its call (Tsang 2010).

In the Kelabit Highlands of Sarawak, its call was continuously heard in late February over sub-montane forest at 900 m (3000 feet). The loud four-note call was fairly musical, koh-koh-koh-kok, the first three syllables on the same pitch, the third sometimes higher, the last note always lower. It was persistently uttered for several minutes at a time, each burst of four-note lasting slightly over one second with about two seconds between each burst, occasional with a fifteen to thirty seconds break between each set of notes. Once or twice, it made a more rounded fluting and musical variation of the same four notes. Most of the time, the call was echoed, almost synchronously, by a four-note squeaking call, much more shrill and softer, sometimes in a lower key (Sreedharan 2005).

It usually calls from the tops of tall trees or when flying from tree to tree (Jerdon 1862), and much more persistently during breeding season, often calling all night long (Smythies 1968). The call is uttered intermittently for hours on end, for more than five minutes at a stretch, at about 23 calls per minute, and, while courting a nearby female, the wings are dropped, the tail spread wide and erected, the bird pivoting from side to side (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Breeding: Very little is known of the breeding of this Cuckoo. It is brood parasitic and, instead of building its own nest, it surreptitiously lays eggs in the nests of several host species, its choice of victim varying from location to location. The nominate form, C. m. micropterus, does not breed in our area. The local form, C. m. concretus breeds in peninsular Malaysia.

The breeding season varies from May to July in northern China, March to August in India, January to June in Burma and January to August in the Malay Peninsula.

In India, the host species are said to be Streaked Laughing-Thrush Garrulax lineatus, White-bellied Redstart Hodgsonius phoenicuroides, Indian Bush-Chat Saxicola torquata and Indian Blue Robin Luscinia brunnea, all of which lay blue or bluish eggs, similar to those of this Cuckoo (Baker 1927).

Additionally, it is said to victimise species such as Fork-tailed Drongo Dicrurus adsimilis, Ashy Drongo Dicrurus leucophaeus but other species, "in whose nests putative eggs of this cuckoo are claimed to have been found, or have been observed feeding its young", include the Asian Paradise-flycatcher Terpsiphone paradisi, the Streaked Spiderhunter Arachnothera magna and, in Sri Lanka, the Black-hooded Oriole Oriolus xanthornus (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Given the difficulty in determining the identity of young cuckoos, it is hardly surprising that these two authors have included a caveat, stating that the available data on the breeding biology of this bird, indeed, of all parasitic cuckoos are, "by and large, meagre, and of dubious authenticity. Most accounts are vague, largely conjectural and often contradictory. The whole subject calls for a more methodical de novo re-investigation".

Currently, this picture (Ong 2008), of a juvenile Indian Cuckoo fostered by a Black-and-yellow Broadbill Eurylaimus ochromalus provides the only incontrovertible evidence of a confirmed host in Malaysia. In Amurland, Siberia, its main host is the Brown Shrike Lanius cristatus, the cuckoo's eggs hatching in about 12 days, two to three days sooner than that of the shrike (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Oviduct eggs from females are said to be of two types: whitish with small reddish-brown dots, closely matching drongo eggs, or pale greyish-blue, like those of the Turdinae, the eggs c. 25 x 19 mm in size (Ali & Ripley 1969).

Migration: Seventeen night-flying migrants, attributed to C. m. micropterus, were caught at Fraser's Hill from 10th October to 27th November and 7th to 14th April between 1966 and 1969. Birds on passage were also collected in November at One Fathom Bank Lighthouse and on Rembia and Pisang islands. None of these belonged to the resident races have been handled (Medway & Wells 1976).

Moult: In the Family Cuculidae, moult strategy is quite complex, occasionally suspended. The primaries moult from two centres, P1 to P4 descendantly, P5 to P10 ascendantly. The secondaries, too, have two centres, S1 to S5 centripetally, S6 to S9 ascendant and alternate. Tail moult is irregular. They moult twice annually, undergoing a partial summer moult and a complete winter moult which finishes in early spring (Baker 1993).

None of the migrant birds from the off-shore sources were in moult. The migrants caught at Fraser's Hill in autumn were all in post-juvenile or adult plumage, indicating that the annual moult is completed in the breeding grounds, before they reach winter quarters (Medway & Wells 1976).

It was a few nights ago that I came across this Red-tailed Hawk. While driving through town, I saw him perched atop a heavily manicured shrub with a kill. Not the most pleasing setting for a photograph. He didn't stick around for long, quickly vanishing into a dense tree nearby. This encapsulates most of my encounters with birds of prey. One moment they're right in front of you, the next, gone. Oh well, there's always next time, I thought. Well, the very next day, I returned to the scene. I wasn't expecting to see anything significant. Maybe I'd come across an egret or a few deer. As I was walking, I noticed a light colored object protruding from atop a different shrub. It took me a minute, but I soon realized what I was looking at. The very same hawk, perched a few hundred feet from where I had seen seen him just days prior. I began sauntering in his general direction, without looking directly at him. This, I find, is the best way to approach wildlife. The key is to not look like you are hunting. I see people do this all too often. They crouch down and move like a dog on a rabbit, making slow, methodical advances, pausing when the subject looks at them. Had I creeped directly up to the hawk while making eye contact, he would've certainly flown away. By acting distracted, I managed to get within a workable range. Over the next hour, he made his way around, landing on an assortment of perches. In this particular shot, he had landed on a less than ideal perch, so I did what I could to produce a natural looking scene. Using some bushes, I covered the distracting element. All in all, I think it worked out nicely.

Long-eared Owls are nimble flyers, with hearing so acute they can snatch prey in complete darkness. In spring and summer, listen for their low, breathy hoots and strange barking calls in the night.The long-eared owl has mottled orange-brown feathers, distinct white eyebrows and striking orange eyes. It has large head feathers or ‘ear tufts’ which become raised when the owl is alarmed; normally the tufts are flattened. It is medium in size, with a wingspan of 95cm. It looks deceptively long and thin when in flight, but is actually no bigger than a wood pigeon.

Interestingly, Long-eared Owls don’t actually have long ears. The tufts perched atop their heads are not ears at all; instead, they are small groups of specialized, long feathers that stand up when the owl is alarmed and in need of camouflage. By resembling sticks, these feather tufts enable them to blend into trees and dense foliage when feeling threatened. Tiny muscles control the rise and relaxation of these tufts.

These nocturnal hunters roost in dense foliage, where their camouflage makes them hard to find, and forage over grasslands for small mammals.

Long-eared owls live in mixed and coniferous woodland, preferring the cover of dense, shrubby thickets, hedgerows and conifer trees. They are found across the UK, although there are fewer birds in Wales and the South West.The species appears to be more abundant in Ireland than it is within Britain, perhaps because of reduced competition from the Tawny Owl,

Long-eared Owls are secretive, nocturnal, and superbly camouflaged. One good way to find them is to listen at night in spring and summer for their long, low hoots. During winter these owls often roost in large numbers, and this can make them easier to find. Methodically search pine stands or shelterbelts near grassland or pasture for roosting owls, often close to the tree trunk among dense branches. Also look along the ground for pellets (gray, roughly oval cylinders of regurgitated fur, feathers, and bone).

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Sunday, October 9, 2016 was a big migration day in eastern Ontario, Canada. The air had turned sharply colder overnight and the wind had picked up from the northwest. Just at sunrise as we drove out to Prince Edward Point, a peninsula jutting into Lake Ontario, we could tell that birds had moved en masse through the darkness.

In contrast to the day before, when the road had been quiet, this morning thousands and thousands of Dark-eyed Juncos flew up into our vehicle's headlights in the final kilometres out to the lighthouse. As we set out on foot for the walk to the water's edge, big flocks of blackbirds and Blue Jays drifted high overhead, approaching the lake shore then wheeling back towards land. Turkey Vultures began to tilt in the wind and hawks soon appeared, mostly Sharp-shinned and Red-tailed, floating along following the contours of the shoreline.

We birded the county from dawn until noon, refuelling for lunch at the Norman Hardie Winery pizza oven, and then heading back out in the late afternoon to check the point again. I wasn't really able to capture the fantastic migration spectacle on camera, this Palm Warbler was feeding methodically on the pebble beach at Point Traverse Lighthouse, a calmer end to a hectic day for us and the birds.

How appropriate that today is International Coffee Day. Coffee is quite the habit around our house. Here you have brewed coffee, roasted beans and green (unroasted) coffee beans all on a coffee sack from El Salvador. Once again I got to consume the photo prop, I'm beginning to like this habit too!