Successful swoop.

Many thanks to all who visit, view and comment upon my efforts

Having successfully survived Valentines Day yesterday, I decided to celebrate today with a photo shoot...

 

I was planning to head south of Half Moon Bay, but as I approached Route 92 I hit the dreaded it's-a-3-day-weekend-let's-all-go-to-the-beach traffic. I made a U-turn and headed back towards San Francisco. While driving I debated if I should just go home and play Call of Duty, or stop at Fort Funston to catch the sunset. I decided to hit Fort Funston.

 

I was planning to take a photograph from the bluffs, but couldn't find a good comp, and ended up wandering down to the beach. I wasn't exactly excited to shoot the often-photographed pilings, again, but figured I'd give it a try. After eating a granola bar, I set up my tripod rather early, strategically using a piling to block the setting sun. There were only light clouds in the sky, so I wasn't expecting a dramatic sunset. I was wrong. As the sun descended to the horizon the sky exploded with color.

 

I had my mind set on a vertical composition, and my eyes were glued to my LCD screen. When I finally looked up I was amazed to see really nice clouds that were out of frame in the vertical orientation. Needless to say, I quickly switched to horizontal, leveled the horizon, and shot away. By the way, not anticipating getting into the water, I had neglected to wear my rubber boots, and was standing in the water up to my knees, in my hiking shoes. Luckily, it was warm, I had also decided to wear shorts, so this was actually quite enjoyable.

 

I wrapped up shortly after this shot and decided to just enjoy the sunset. The sky subsequently lit up with pinks and reds. I fought the urge to set up my camera again and just enjoyed the sunset for a couple of minutes before hiking back up to the car.

 

Single exposure with Lee 0.9H grad ND.

 

O'Neil and his squad reach the the LZ as the Dragonfly Gunship touches down. Another successful mission accomplished. Day 1348 Y4D244

Went to out for NS 4005, and ended up with this shot at Oreapolis, Nebraska instead. Hey I’ll take it

successful solo slut walks through the tenderloin with wardrobe & camera malfunctions to boot

(b sides)

Title:

Society’s Shrew

******************************************************************************

The study below was uncovered through research for the following Doctorial dissertation:

Light to the shadows of their mind:

Criminal tactics and strategies

Criminology Department Dept.

Chatwick University

 

Case Study 14 :

Name: Seth circa 192…

Subject: A rather unprincipled & deviously unscrupulous scoundrel

 

From Seth’s Journal:

Headed as:

Societies Shrew

October 11, 192

It is truly amazing what people will talk about on a train. And I could not say the number of times I had collected a tidy sum by just keeping my ears open to such talk. The following remarkable account centered on a couple named Caboyt is my case in point.

  

I was traveling between cities, after finishing a weeks’ worth of “business”, successfully making a handsome “little” profit on the jewels I collected from several unsuspecting wealthy women.

  

I had spotted a young couple sitting alone at small table in the dining car. Taking a seat in the nearby bar I had taken the opportunity to observe them. They were newlyweds. I could tell by the way they had acted, and by the shiny new gold rings they sported. She was a very attractive long haired brunette, wearing a long flowing skirt and a high-necked satiny blouse with long sleeves. He was wearing a fitted suit, and by his expression, was ignorant of anything else but his bride’s existence. I too noticed her existence. Especially the existence of the solid gold necklace set with tiny rubies and diamonds she wearing, loosely hanging down from around her throat. When she talked, her hands made little motions, and it was a pleasure to watch her rings sparkle from fingers as she did so. When they left the dining car I stayed at the bar, quickly forgetting about the pair. I enjoyed a few drinks while anticipating the new opportunities that should be plentiful at my next stop.

  

Late that evening the newlyweds were abruptly placed back into my thoughts. As I made my way back to my car I saw them in their seats, sleeping soundly. Her head was on his shoulders, an arm curled around him. The head of her husband was back on the seat snoring. I noticed her necklace hanging provokingly down, flickering in the passing lights that lit up the car in ten second intervals. The back two rows of seats were vacant, so I slipped into the seat directly behind them. I slowly moved my fingers up behind her seat, dipping down I felt through her ultra-soft hair until my fingers felt the cold hardness of her necklace. I could feel the slippery sleekness of her blouse, and I will admit I did perk up in doing so. Ever so slowly I pulled it out, exposing its gold chain. Then I slipped it around, silently thanking her for the slickness of the high necked pretty blouse that made my attempt so easy. Finally I expose the clasp, and leaving it hanging sat back for a minute to let them settle. I watched it there, as the flicking lights lit it up, my hunger increasing in a prickling sensation I knew and loved so well, the thrill of the hunt. When I could contain myself no longer I reached up again and undid the clasp, then I began the delicate operation of slipping it from her throat. It took almost fifteen exhilarating minutes as I worked it free, exposing it’s; length over the seat ever longer. Then it came loose, and with a swish curled up into my palm. As the last of it slipped away my victim stirred a little, sighing in her sleep, she cuddled in even more. I waited a few more minutes, all was calm around me.

  

I eyed the sleeping couple. Following her arm that lay around her husband’s shoulder I could see her hand. A glittery ruby ring sparkled merrily in the passing lights. The ring was definitely not as valuable as the necklace in hand, but the allure of acquiring it overwhelmed me. Now slipping a ring from a ladies finger is of course, no great trick. If she happens to be sleeping soundly, like this one, its rather as easy as taking it from a baby.

******************

(Which for the record I have never done, preferring my victims to be of a mature age. A mantra from which I have only strayed from once, for every rule commands an exception!

 

The exception for this rule was a matching set of sparklers; dangling cascading earrings, wide “lace” style necklace, bracelet and a brace of rings, all of it small and dainty, all of it quality diamond ,and best of all, invitingly obtainable.

 

Because the young miss laden down with those petite diamonds was all of fourteen years of age. And, as for the glossy taffeta gown that clung charmingly to her girlish figure? It cried out to even the most novice of us pickpockets to use its sleekness to execute a nimble “slip up and flick” maneuver to relieve this little squirming princess of some piece of her jewelry.

 

It had definitely been worth the Crown I had expended to the well-dressed young lad with a solid gold pocket watch hanging from his vest, to spend at the penny arcade, located in the bazaar across the street…. It successfully lured him temporarily away from the richly attired kid sister wearing the diamonds in question. He had been keeping an eye over her, a job for which I could tell he had been grudgingly delegated with, and which he happily abandoned; leaving the diamond laden impish young sister vulnerably exposed to the harsher realities of life.

 

I used the procured opening to cross the young sister’s path and with a perfectly timed ploy caught her in mid stride, the fingers of my right hand grabbing her by the gown’s sleek midriff causing her to totter over my arm. The fingers of my left moved in at the same moment.

 

The gown had indeed tingled quite pleasantly underneath my left hands fingers as they glided up along her taffeta slick back to lift up and break open the clasp of the silver chain, from which hung the dangling diamonds dripping down along her gown’s full neckline; As I gently plucked and straighten her gown with my right hand, my Left hand delicately began to pull away the necklace. I asked the young miss her where she was off to in such a hurry. She told me, in quick nervous breaths, that she was looking for her brother. As I listened intently, my left hand tugged, then slipped free her necklace, spiriting it away from her heaving chest with a muted swish. I watched it disappear, flickering its protest, as I held its pretty mistress’s attention. I pocketed it as she followed my pointing finger to the bazaar across the street where I explained her brother had gone.

 

I watched as she happily scurried away from me, blissfully naive that her necklace no longer was merrily bouncing along her chest as she moved. It was just then a rather full bosomed lady passed me by, nose in the air, a ruby brooch precariously perched in the cleavage of her low cut rustling gown. I followed, my mind calculating the risk.

 

***************************

 

As the train gently rocked back and forth I kept my eyes focused on the sleeping woman’s ring, first I licked my lips, then my fingers. Reaching up I gently slipped my fingers along hers, moistening them. Then I felt for her ring, and slightly lifter her finger, carefully worked the jewel off by rocking it back and forth between my fingertips. Once I had it over her knuckle, I stopped to catch my breath and look around, all was still quiet. I easily pulled it off the rest of the way, than lay back and closed my eyes. Soon both of them were snoring regularly. I than arose, stowing away the necklace securely, and walked silently amongst the other sleeping passengers. Unnoticed by anyone, I regained my car, took my seat, and laying back I closed my eyes, and happy with myself, fell into a deep sleep.

   

October 12, 192

 

The next morning I awoke to a bright sunrise, refreshed and satisfied with the previous evening’s effort. I now settled back comfortably and watched the scenery. There appeared to be no noticeable commotion at my end of the train over my nighttime activities. But it is the reason I stayed glued to my seat for the rest of my journey, and the reason I would make a rather informal acquaintance with Sophia and Arthur Caboyt.

  

The seat in front of me was occupied by a priest traveling with his rather ancient mother. Nothing that they were discussing had captured my interest the day before. The priest was spending the morning reading his bible, his mother snoozing, so it appeared neither would be saying anything to peak my interest this morning. So I closed my eyes, placed a thought in my head, and started dozing…….

 

***********

She was a beauty, a ravishing brunette clad in a long purple satiny number. Her jewels were all sapphires, sparkling as she walked somewhat unsteadily up the path leading her away from the sanctity of the castle keep. I was following with curiosity, having seen her slip out the back way, looking for the entire world like a child sneaking out on her parents. She reached the top of the hill where it opened into a small glen. Off to the side lay a dark lake of calm water. As she stood by a cement bench on the bank of the lake the moon peeked out through the clouds, placing her in a pool of light. A pair of white swans swam over in curiosity. She bent down and lifted out her gloved hand to them, her rings and bracelet glistening radiantly.

She was not yet aware of being followed……

******************************

  

I must have fallen asleep, for next thing I knew I was rudely awakened as the train was ratcheting to a stop, whistle blowing. When the train finely halted, The priest and his mother departed. I still was going on for a distance so I kept my seat. I bid them a silent adieu; nothing about them had held my interest in any shape or form.

  

But the newcomers who took their seat turned out to be a whole other story.

  

A rather stern faced husband had escorted his chattering wife and basically maneuvered her into the seat. She was clad in a long silky, rather form fitting dress. She was wearing a nice display of glistening white pearls, and her fingers were home to several sparkly rings. By the way the pair carried themselves; I had no doubts the fair maidens jewels were the real McCoy. As I watched the diamond clasp of her pearl necklace from behind I again closed my eyes, once more reminiscing about the train ride on my first leg of the journey.

  

But this couple did not appear to be of the snatch and slip into the shadows type of prey to me. I opened my eyes, wide awake, my interest peaking as the wife’s shrill voice penetrated into me. No, I smelled real opportunity being handed to me by fate. Let me explain. In my line of business I had become a quick study of a person’s character. His was obviously that of an important ( in his mind) president( probably a bank) used to controlling all aspects of his life, including his wife. She was a quarrelsome chatterbox who was as opinionated as they come. My guess is that that he only had married her for her money, why else would he have put up with her? His name was Arthur, Hers was Sophia, and the last name was Caboyt, which perked my interest even more. Caboyt being a well-known name of a wealthy family from the large city where I had grew up as a child. The couple was attending a Charity Ball at some rather ritzy sounding establishment in a City four stops before mine. The more I heard, the more I smelled money to be made. So it was without a thought that I rose a minute after they did, and got off on the same stop, forgoing the rest of my travel plans. I quickly stashed my luggage in a locker and got out onto the street in time to see them getting into a hotel taxi.

  

I went in, collected my bags and hired a taxi to take me to an inexpensive hotel that he recommended. I checked in, prepaying for three nights to cover my tracks, threw my luggage on the bed. I looked in my stage case, and selected a reddish wig and matching moustache, trying them on for effect. Adding a pair of black, horn rimmed eye glasses completed the disguise

  

I grabbed another taxi had him drive me to the hotel they were staying at. Paying him off ,I crossed the street and positioned myself in a park. It was now early evening, the sun just dipping below the tall buildings.

  

I studied the situation from the park while sitting on a bench. It was older, with balconies extending outside each of the rooms. The balconies were cement rimmed, with low rails. If I could get a room above or below theirs, It would be a short, easy rope climb to their balcony. I went inside and inquired about available rooms for the next evening, the evening of the ball. As the clerk leafed through his book I studied the registry and soon located Sarah and Henry Caboyt’s listing. It was better than I had hoped. They couple were in room 311. 313, 413 and 213 were taken for the weekend but 315, right next door was available. Containing my excitement I took it, prepaying for two nights, giving the clerk a false ID . I explained that my luggage had been delayed, and that when it came I would just take it up myself.

  

I returned to the other hotel, and dressed and went out for dinner, forming my plans as I ate. Returning I packed a small valise, put on evening attire, and snuck out via a back stairway that led to a now shadowed alley.

  

Walking out I went up the street bus stop and hailed a taxi. He gave me a suspicious look as I gave him the name of a fancy hotel that was a couple of blocks away from where the Cabot’s, and I, were staying: but I put on my bigwig demeanor and ignored him. He let me off and as I made sure he drove off, went up the block and entered my new hotel, heading straight for the elevator, not even gaining a second glance from the well trained operator. I went into my room, whistling at the fancy digs, before setting up the groundwork for my little operation.

  

That evening I sleep soundly, almost falling deeply again into a dream.

***********************************************

I found myself in her room once again. There were two of them. Identical twin sisters who occupied adjoining rooms in the old keep of the ancient stronghold that had been turned into a posh resort for the ultra-rich.

 

They had both been attending the extravagant ball being held in the old main chamber of the castle. But one had been ill and left early, planning to take a strong sleeping draught to fight her ailment.

 

Making sure the remaining sister was still going strong at the ball, I melted away into the shadows, breaking into her room before the twelve strokes of midnight had sounded in the large grandfather clock at the end of the hall. It took no effort on my part; she had conveniently left her velvet jewel pouch on the nightstand. I quickly scooped out its contents in a couple of shimmering handfuls. It was going to be a good night I told myself happily.

 

I went to the door that joined the room where her twin was sleeping. I cautiously opened it, and then slipped inside.

 

She looked so beautifully innocent as she slept, her brown satin pajamas shimmering in the light of the full moon streaming through an open stone cased window. After a bit of searching I found her jewel case tucked under the pillow she was laying on. I had discovered it while sliding my hand underneath, and I now began to work the calfskin leather case free. As I did I saw something glimmer faintly in the moonlight? Looking closer I realized she had no removed the pendent she had been wearing around her neck. It was on a gold chain, a ruby surrounded by small diamonds. I freed her jewel case and quickly emptied its contents, only one brightly glistening handful, which joined her sister’s collection in my satchel. I then pulled back her hair and felt for the clasp of her necklace. Locating it I slid it into my view and unclasped it. Picking up one end I lifted it from her throat, and gently pulled the other end from beneath her. It went perfectly; she never stirred as I took it from her. One a whim I peeled back ever so gently the long sleeves of her pajamas, . One her left wrist she still wore a ruby and diamond bracelet. Lifting her wrist up enough so my fingers could reach I undid the clasp and pulled it free, hanging like a wide sparkling snake.

 

I listened at her door, all was quite. I stole away, sneaking down the old servants back stairway. It was as I was edging around the building to make a bolt for the woods and my escape, that I saw her. The twin, who had stayed at the ball while her sister slept, was now lurking outside. She had no idea she was being watched. I eyed her sapphire jewelry sparkling along her pretty satin gown. I could tell she was up to something, as she hesitated, then assuming no one was around, headed off onto the path leading to a small lake. I followed without a second’s hesitation……..

 

************************************************

 

October 13, 192

  

The next morning I arose late, refreshed and ready for whatever exploits the day would hold for me.

  

After checking out my surroundings, including the balcony, I took a long hot shower and stretched out, waiting like a lion in the brush. Late afternoon I made my way down to the lobby with a book and nestled in a shadowy corner to wait. My plan was to watch them leave, follow them to gauge how long it would take them to return, head back, enter their room via the balcony and pilfer the room of its valuables and exit stage right, before they returned. I was banking on a fat jewel case. The rooms had no safes.

  

I sat, I observing my fellow guests coming and going about their personal business. Soon I noticed more and more of them in evening dress, heading out for a night on the town, which was a treat in and of its self. I did perk up when a lady clad in a long black velvet dress, matching gloves and pearls, walked down the stairs. As a pearl hanger, she would have been a tempting target. Pearls were always easy to pawn, and hers were a rather nice set. She seemed to be the easily distractible type, and easily distractible types who wore expensive jewels had always been my specialty. But I already had my mind set on Sophia Caboyt’s jewels that evening, So I let her slip away, watching her long gown swish about her pleasant figure.. Bird in the hand I thought, wistfully hoping that would prove to be the case.

  

An hour later I was rewarded as Sophia and Arthur came down. The couple was dressed to the nines for the evening, he was in a tux, she was in a long flowing glossy gown and gloves. She was dripping in diamonds, a full set. My heart sank, I wanted those diamonds, Quickly as I watched them I revised my plan. She was wearing a small fortune. I was sure that whatever was left in their room was probably not worth nearly as much, even the pearls.

  

I than sat and pretended to read my book for about another two hours while my mind went over several new plans of action. Accepting one of them as feasible, I rose and headed back up to my room. Lost my disguise, packed my valise for a hasty exit, put on my mask and gloves, turned out the lights, carefully opened my balcony door, and from a vantage point where I could see their room, I waited for their return. Breaking into a room with sleeping occupants was something I would rather not do, but oh, well, I would have to creep a little more carefully. Hopefully they would return home tipsy and sleep deeply.

  

Three and one half hours later the lights went on in their room. The balcony door was opened and Sophia came sweeping out, her jewelry blazing in the street lamps light from below. I watched with growing anticipation as she leaned out and looked onto the view below, her necklace and long earrings swaying out over the void, careful I thought, don’t let the pretty things fall. Her husband voice came out of the room inside, calling to her in an angry tone. “Sophia, I don’t believe it, they gave me the wrong top coat.” She sighed, gathering air, Are you sure she snapped, yes he said, my gloves are not in the pocket. She turned and went to the door, Go back tomorrow she decreed. I am going back now, he rebelled, and giving them a piece of my mind, I tipped that idiot 5 shillings. I heard the door slam. As it did, she had continued telling him not to go.

 

He had left and my mind started buzzing. What is he up to? He had no real reason not to wait, unless he was really that much of a hot head. If that was the case, He would easily be gone for an hour, which would give me at least 45 minutes to work with. They didn’t appear to have been drinking, If I stuck with my original plan, when he returned, things would be a lot more sticky, especially if he was in a foul mood and couldn’t sleep.

  

My window of opportunity, small already, began to shrink even more. I could have just let it go, but no I scolded myself, I would forever be berating myself for letting the chance to make a major coup slip through my fingers. I decided to risk it. Sometimes you just have to roll the dice and see how things lay and hope, luck will travel with it. I quickly reformulated my plan.

  

I went back and pulled a small derringer and some rope from my valise. She had been wearing a satin sash encircling her waist, held with a brooch. Once she handed me the brooch, I would use the sash to gag her; and my rope to tie her securely to a chair freeing me to search her and her room for valuables. I smiled in wicked anticipation; I have always liked a good old fashioned hold-up. I looked at my watch, still a good 32 minutes to obtain her jewels.

  

Climbing between the two ledges I slipped onto their balcony, ducking below the side and waited. Nothing stirred. I slinked over to the window and peered inside. No movement. Waiting another eternal minute I decided to enter, Carefully opening the glass door so it let out only the slightest of clicks I entered. I saw a door on the opposite side of the room, slightly ajar I could hear the sound of water running. Sophia was drawing a bath. I couldn’t believe my luck. I wedged myself in a corner and waited. I could see her shadow in the crack of light emitting from the door, and then I heard her slide into the tub. Immediately I was on the move.

 

I had seen a glistening pile on top of a small table by the bathroom door. I went there first. On the table were spread out in a sparkling array the diamonds she had been wearing earlier. I carefully lifted each magnificent piece and secreted them into my small satchel, one eye on the outer door, and one ear on the occupant of the bath tub. As I made a complete sweep of the table I saw her silvery, shiny jeweled purse off to one side, lying on her satin gloves. I went through it and found a the wad of notes and a heavy gold compact and matching cigarette holder. Putting the items back inside, along with her gloves, I pocketed the shiny purse. Then I noticed her jewel case when I had come in laying on the vanity. I went over and opened it, my eyes rewarded by a satisfying collection of glittery jewels, gold and pearls. I and quickly emptied it of its valuable contents, a set of emerald with diamonds( necklace, earrings, ring and bracelets), several gold chains, two pairs of gold earrings, one set with small diamonds, a thick solid gold bracelet, and a rather nice 3 strand pearl choker, as well as the pearls she had been wearing on the train. I hadn’t seen this much ice lately outside a jewelry store. Closing the case, I slipped it into a drawer out of sight..

  

I did not see her gown with its sash and brooch. I snuck a peak into the bathroom; I saw a long flowing satin bathrobe, but no red gown visible. I hesitated, for I could see her outline in the tub, she was laying back with her eyes closed, a hand hung down, from which glittered a pair of rings. No, I thought, letting them go. I went to her closet; there was a gold gown, but not the gown she had been wearing. I looked at my watch, 9 minutes left; I was running out of time. I went back to the bed and circled it, keeping a close eye on the two doors. Looking over on the opposite side by the wall I saw something glossy on the floor.. There it was, the little darling had slid off and was hiding on the floor. Lifting it up, I let the smooth material run through my hands, feeling it through the thin gloves I was wearing. I felt nothing hard, laying it across the chair I looked under the bed, saw something silky and pulled at it. It came out like a shiny snake, with a large diamond studded head. There was the prize. I took the sash and the brooch and stuffed them in my pocket. 3 minutes left by my watch.. I went back to the closet and felt along a couple of her things hanging there, hoping to find a clip , or possibly another brooch, one a silky jacket I felt something hard, it turned out to be a gold pin of a humming bird with jeweled wings. I pulled it free. My time was up, and I had plenty,

  

Turning out the lights I Heading to the door of the balcony fortunately I heard them just as I opened the glass door. I peeked to the balcony next door, on the opposite side of mine. A couple was in the middle of an argument. A quite pretty lady was giving a tuxedo shirted male a piece of her mind. She was a long haired brunette clad in a long silk sheath, gold and black descending stripes. She was lecturing a harried thin gentleman in a white tux shirt, chewing him out in rapid Italian. I was caught between a rock and a hard place. I stepped out in the shadows, closing the door behind me. I did not want to chance having the dejewelled princess or her husband walk into the bedroom and find me there. The minutes ticked by. I was mesmerized by the hand the Italian woman was shaking under his nose. The ladies’ Jeweled rings and bracelets flashing extravagantly in and out of the light. I will admit that after 6 excoriatingly long minutes I started to sweat a little. The show was quite fascinating, but I was expecting company at any time. And three would definitely be a crowd. She was not running out of steam, I felt sorry for the little guy.

  

Finally the Italian banshee ended her tirade. She ran into the room sobbing, he meekly followed. Just Than I about jumped out of my skin when I head Sophia calling out her husband’s name. Arthur she screeched, are you there yet, I have soap in my eyes. Do I dare, I thought to myself, those magnificent rings flashing back into my mind.

  

I moved swiftly back into the room, stealthily going to the bathroom door, looked around the door and stole a peak. She was holding her eyes closed, searching in vain for a towel, which had fallen just below her searching hand. The hand where the expensively jeweled rings she had worn into her bath resided. I moved swiftly, rapping on the door. About time she said as I handed her a towel. I took her hand, and kissed her soapy wet fingers. She smirked; don’t try to make up with me Arthur. I let go of her now ring less fingers. Turning I walked out swiftly, closing the door behind me before she had a chance to clear her eyes. Swiftly going back out the balcony door, I flew over the rail into my own balcony, and into the door. I waited for a minute without moving. The coast seemed clear.

  

I felt safe to turn the lights on. I hid her sash, brooch, jewels, and the silvery jeweled purse in the false bottom of my small valise. I put back on the red wig moustache and glasses and evening clothes. Then snatching up my case, I went to the door after a final inspection of the room. 65 minutes now had ticked by since the husband had left the apartment, leaving his wife and her jewels behind unprotected. It was time to make a hasty exit. As my white gloved hand touched the knob I heard voices in the hall. Damn I thought, she had taking the argument out of the room. Thankfully I heard the door slam. This was becoming a circus I thought, opening door a crack. The hall way was clear. I moved quickly down the corridor turning into another , down with lay my exit down a rear stairwell. I froze in my tracks. Now what I thought!

  

At the far end of the corridor, just passed my exit, was a wall where a full length painting of the battle of waterloo hung. The lady in velvet and pearls that I had been scrutinizing earlier in the evening sashaying through the lobby, was standing with her back to me mesmerized by the painting, her hands clasped behind her while she swayed to and fro studying it.. She was so enthralled by it that I probably could have walked right up to her and slipped the pearls from her throat and wrist without her even noticing me. Why not, I asked myself rhetorically. Setting the valise by the exit, I began removing my gloves as I walked up to her on the balls of my feet, silent as a cat. Pretty is it not I asked in her ear, she started, backing into me. I caught her as she twittered nervously. Sorry I said, steadying her. She blushed as she turned to me, giving me full view of the pearls around her throat. I kissed her hand, asking for her apologies as I turned and left her standing there. I heard the swish of her dress. I had been right about her being vulnerably captivated by the painting. The proof was in the pudding, or in this case the triple string pearl bracelet I had slipped away from her gloved wrist as she had bumped against me

  

I started down the stairs leading down to the lobby silently thanking whatever distraction it was that was holding Arthur up from returning home. Then, I saw him. I was coming down to the bottom of stairs I saw Arthur cutting through the lobby. I walked past him nodding as he passed raising my valise in salutation. He nodded back passing me without another look. He had a smile on his face, so he had received satisfaction from something. I too had a smirk on mine, garnering some satisfaction that he was totally unaware that a small fortune in his wife’s jewels was walking out the door right under his nose.

 

I left, holding my valise and headed down the street. I hailed a taxi, had him drop me off at the bus station, then went into my hotel and packed, before falling again into sound , pleasantly dream filled , sleep.

  

October 14, 192

  

I arose early the next day, leaving by the same back door to the alleyway.

Flagging a taxi I had him drive me to the shopping area by the train station.

I meandered around a bit and then, sure I was not being watched, made my way to the train station.

  

I than caught the next train heading to my original destination. After a long, leisurely meal, and a couple well-earned drinks at the bar I headed back to my seat. This time there were no brides with shiny necklaces, or Caboyt’s with their pompous arrogance and fancy jewels to entertain me. So I found one of my own making. As the train rumbled into the night I snuggled down and replayed the whole adventure, savoring every aspect until I fell into dream filled sleep.

****************************************

  

She must have imbibed more than I thought, for she walked to the bench, and taken a careful look around, began to undress. Watching the swans, she started by removing her jewelry, placing them in a pile that glistened in the moon’s light. She then stepped behind some bushes, and I observed her laying her gloves, gown and some silky nickers over a tree limb. I began to move back and cut along the woods to where she had undressed. A soft, subtle splash of water let me know she had entered the pool. Reaching her things hanging on the tree limb I looked out, she was in up to her chest, back to me, still watching the swans that had moved off a small distance when she had entered. I carefully pulled her clothes off the limb, then hid them behind a tree, , feeling the hardness of her broach, I unfastened from her gown. Then on all fours, keeping below the bench, I carefully crawled forward, inching ever closer to the glistening pile of rich jewels that beckoned me…..

 

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The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.

 

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Home with a mouse. The red eyes still stand-out, despite the dim light of late afternoon.

 

Black-shouldered Kite, Jerrabomberra Wetlands, A.C.T.

a successful salesman always keeps his important documents on the passenger seat.

 

check out the lith print.

 

on an outing with sol exposure.

 

nikon fa

nikkor 50mm f/1.2 ais

ilford hp5+@1600

xtol 1:1, 18 minutes, 20 ℃

30 sec continuous agitation initially, 2 inversions / min

Successful morning walk - pine, palm, and yellow-rumped warblers, tree swallows, bluebirds, redwing blackbirds, great blue heron, and yellow-bellied sapsuckers.

 

Pine Warbler is a lifer

Among the many successful businesses in Eudunda was Wiesner and Company, timber and hardware merchant. Their impressive warehouse and store still remains in the town.

The Wiesner family started a blacksmith and foundry business in Eudunda in 1884 which eventually employed 50 people. In 1905 they sold that business and opened the iron mongers and furniture store in large two storey premises to which they added. It became the largest hardware and furniture store outside of Adelaide. It sold everything from pianos, china, glassware and silver cutlery to iron, nails, tools and timber and sewing machines.

Johannes Wiesner and his son Adolph ran the business until it was sold in 1951 but they had downsized it in 1945 when they sold part of the warehouse to the Masonic Lodge.

 

Interestingly Adolph married an English girl Mary Cranston and he became a Methodist and his grandson became a Methodist Minister. [Ref: A Future Unlived]

  

Eudunda is a quiet town in the Mid North of South Australia.

Notably it is an historic German settlement.

 

Eudunda came into existence as an important watering hole for cattle and horses which were being overlanded to South Australia from western Queensland in the late 19th century. Their destination was Kapunda, at that time effectively owned by Sir Sidney Kidman.

 

Eudunda was the birthplace of the educationalist and novelist Colin Thiele who achieved fame with his hugely successful books, Storm Boy, Blue Fin and Sun On The Stubble.

Thiele’s presence is evidenced by the silhouette of one of his characters, ‘Gustav” and his kelpie dog.

 

A pair of common moorhens has hatched in a pond within sight of my office.

We saw initially only two chicken, which even disappeared somewhat. But last week was a surprise with six others suddenly appearing.

The parents are really taking care of their breed, if any bird comes close to them, they will attack it to get the intruder away.

Engineers successfully fired a 2-foot-diameter, subscale solid rocket booster June 1, 2022, at NASA's Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama. The test, conducted in Marshall’s East Test Area, produced 92,000 pounds of thrust and was done as part of the booster obsolescence and life extension (BOLE) program, providing an upgraded booster design for the evolved configuration of the Space Launch System (SLS) rocket for Artemis IX and beyond. The BOLE booster will be a larger and more powerful solid rocket motor to make the SLS rocket capable of sending heavier payloads to the Moon and beyond.

 

Image Credit: NASA/Samuel Lott

 

#MoontoMars #NASAMarshall #nasasls #artemis #NASA #NASAMarshall #MSFC #MarshallSpaceFlightCenter #SpaceLaunchSystem

 

Read more

 

More about Artemis

 

More about SLS

 

NASA Media Usage Guidelines

on explore #295 Sehen sie nicht aus, wie eine chinesische Seidenmalerei? Als Teil eines Paravents? Oder wie eine wertvolle Porzellanmalerei?

Magnolien haben eine ganz eigene faszinierende Schönheit.

 

Die Magnolien (Magnolia) sind eine Pflanzengattung in der Familie der Magnoliengewächse (Magnoliaceae), die etwa 230 Arten enthält. Die Gattung wurde nach dem französischen Botaniker Pierre Magnol benannt. Es sind Bäume oder Sträucher, sie stammen aus Ostasien und Amerika. Einige Magnolien-Arten und Sorten sind beliebte Ziergehölze.

 

Die Universität Bournemouth teilte am 4. April 2007 mit, die Rote Liste der Magnoliengewächse führe 132 von insgesamt 245 Arten als gefährdet. Als Hauptursachen der Bedrohung werden die Zerstörung der natürlichen Lebensräume der Magnolien für die Landwirtschaft sowie deren übermäßige Ausbeutung angesehen.

 

Magnolia is a large genus of about 210 flowering plant species in the subfamily Magnolioideae of the family Magnoliaceae.

 

The natural range of Magnolia species is rather scattered and includes eastern North America, Central America and the West Indies and east and southeast Asia. Some species are found in South America. Today many species of Magnolia and an ever increasing number of hybrids can also be found as ornamentals in large parts of North America, Europe, Australia and New Zealand. The genus is named after French botanist Pierre Magnol, from Montpellier. See Origin of the name Magnolia.

 

Magnolia is an ancient genus. Having evolved before bees appeared, the flowers developed to encourage pollination by beetles. As a result, the carpels of Magnolia flowers are tough, to avoid damage by eating and crawling beetles. Fossilised specimens of M. acuminata have been found dating to 20 million years ago, and of plants identifiably belonging to the Magnoliaceae dating back to 95 million years ago. Another primitive aspect of Magnolias is their lack of distinct sepals or petals. The term tepal has been coined to refer to the intermediate element that Magnolia has instead. Magnolias are used as food plants by the larvae of some Lepidoptera species including Giant Leopard Moth.

 

Magnolia grandiflora is the official state flower of both Mississippi and Louisiana.The flower's abundance in Mississippi is reflected in its state nickname, "Magnolia State". The magnolia is also the official state tree of Mississippi.

 

One of the oldest nicknames for Houston, Texas Is "The Magnolia City" due to the abundance of Magnolias growing along Buffalo Bayou.

 

In general, Magnolia is a genus which has attracted a lot of horticultural interest. Hybridisation has been immensely successful in combining the best aspects of different species to give plants which flower at an earlier age than the species themselves, as well as having more impressive flowers. One of the most popular garden magnolias is a hybrid, M. x soulangeana (Saucer magnolia; hybrid M. liliiflora x M. denudata).

 

The bark from M. officinalis has long been used in traditional Chinese medicine, where it is known as hou po (厚朴). In Japan, kōboku, M. obovata has been used in a similar manner. The aromatic bark contains magnolol and honokiol, two polyphenolic compounds that have demonstrated anti-anxiety and anti-angiogenic properties. Magnolia bark also has been shown to reduce allergic and asthmatic reactions.

 

Magnolia has attracted the interest of the dental research community because magnolia bark extract inhibits many of the bacteria responsible for caries and periodontal disease.In addition, the constituent magnolol interferes with the action of glucosyltransferase, an enzyme needed for the formation of bacterial plaque.

 

A stick cracked to my left, sounding like a deafening yell in the serene silence of the forest.

I stopped, holding absolutely still, and was rewarded with the heart-warming sight of a doe and her calf making their way through the woods.

Smiling, I continued on my way after they passed, heading more or less in the vague direction of Durrough.

I had ditched the wagon several miles and two nights back, after coming to the realization that if someone was hunting me, it probably wasn’t the best idea to travel out in the open, driving a conspicuous wagon. Now, I was on foot, going through some of the more difficult, less traveled paths through the eastern-most portion of the Wandering Woods. It would take longer to reach my destination, but it would also draw less attention to myself, thus making it worth the longer journey.

Squaring my shoulders, I forged onwards.

————————————

The next morning,

 

I awoke to something sharp jabbing into my back from beneath my bedroll. Groaning, I rolled over, and extracted……a rock.

Muttering in disgust, I threw the rock aside, and groggily disentangled myself from my cloak, which had been serving as my blanket, climbing to my feet with an audible cracking of joints.

“Well,” I said to no-one in particular, “Time to start the day I guess.”

I had killed a small rabbit with my crossbow last night, and I cooked him up now, along with a few edible greens I found near my campsite.

After breakfast, I packed up my bedroll, checked to make sure I still had that sealed letter, gathered my things, and kicked out the fire.

Then, I headed off in the same direction as yesterday. I estimated I only had another day at most before I reached Durrough. Fortified by this, (as well as that rabbit), I set off for another day of hiking.

Little did I know today was not going to be like the days before it.

————————————

 

A few hours later, I stopped for a rest, and possibly lunch, if I could find some game large enough to make a meal out of.

Making sure my crossbow was loaded, I began to stealthily advance through the woods, keeping a sharp eye out for prey. I spotted a couple of squirrels, but neither one was large enough to warrant taking a shot at.

Watching the second one run off, I detected movement out of the corner of my eye. Moving slowly, so as not to scare whatever it was, I turned towards the spot I saw movement from.

Expecting to find a deer, or even better, a wild hog, I was shocked to discover it was a BEAR!

I froze. The bear was staring right at me, not moving either.

As the seconds dragged on in our stand-off, I realized this wasn’t just any bear, it was a grizzly bear!

And to make matters worse, it was a very hungry-looking grizzly bear.

Keeping my eyes fixed on the bear, I began to slowly back away, taking micro-steps so as not to startle it into action. After a few steps, the bear began to move forward, as I moved back.

That was definitely not what I wanted the bear to do, and I realized this was not going to end peacefully.

Just as I was coming to this conclusion, the bear charged.

Given less then a second to react, I dropped and rolled to the side, feeling a rush of air as the bear breezed by. Rolling to my feet, I saw the bear stop and start to turn around, for another go at me. Pre-empting this, I turned and ran, as fast as my legs would carry me, hearing the bear charging up behind me.

Now, I know that everyone says the stupidest thing you can do when facing a bear is run, but A; not everyone is me, and B; I wasn’t trying to outrun the bear, I just needed a few seconds to get my shot, pardon the pun.

As I ran, I checked hastily that my crossbow was still loaded, and, finding it was, judged that the bear was too caught up in chasing me to slow down or avoid this, whipped around, bringing the crossbow to my shoulder, sighted, and pulled the trigger.

The bolt flew seemingly in slow motion, as the bear charged at me, straight into the grizzly’s right eye, killing him instantly.

The bear’s momentum kept his body moving forward, even as it started to hit the ground, forcing me to quickly step to the side, to avoid getting pinned as the corpse slid to a stop where I had been standing moments before.

I staggered against a nearby tree, sliding to the ground with my back against the trunk, staring at the bear’s corpse, feeling the adrenaline from my near-death experience pumping through my veins, and my breath coming in ragged bursts.

It was then, sitting on forest floor, waiting for my body to clam down, that the sound of rushing water penetrated my senses. I got up, and, turning around, surveyed my surroundings, which I hadn’t even registered yet.

My jaw dropped.

Hardly believing my eyes, I stepped out of the tree line.

I was on the bank of a river, that forked around the spit of land I was standing on. Both ends of the river wound away through the trees.

Directly across from me was the source of this river;

A magnificent (although not very large) waterfall, pouring majestically down the side of sheer rock face. The sound of it filled the air, which was the sound I had noticed minutes ago.

The rock face the waterfall poured over continued beyond to the right, slowly curving outward.

A huge old oak tree grew near this face, on the opposite bank. Over on my side, a large pile of boulders sat jumbled to my right, a tree growing up from their midst.

The whole area was overflowing with bright colors and abundant flora and fauna.

Looking around, I felt at peace for the first time in several days.

Putting down my crossbow, I flopped in the grass with a grateful sigh, content just to lay there in the soft grass for awhile.

As I lay there, I tried to come up with a suitable name for this hidden gem of the forest. Nothing I tried sounded right, and it wasn’t until I sat up and took another look at the place that the perfect name popped into my head.

“Heaven’s Lagoon,” I said out loud, trying it out. It fit perfectly.

It was then, as I was sitting there, enjoying the feeling of having this beautiful place all to myself, plus the fact I had just named it, when I noticed something I had missed before. Or maybe it hadn’t been there before, because I never missed anything.

Almost directly across from me was a cave.

As I stared at it, trying to figure out why I hadn’t seen it the first time I looked over there, I began to feel a strange sensation. It felt like the cave was calling to me, inviting and drawing me in.

That should have been more than enough warning to not go in the cave, but I had never been able to resist something like this.

So, curiosity getting the better of me, I got up, picking up my crossbow on the way, and moved to the edge of the bank, looking for a way across.

Finding it, I went over to the boulder pile, climbed up on the largest one, and, balancing carefully, hopped to a rock in the middle of the river, then over to the far bank, right in front of the cave.

Having reached my goal, I stopped to examine the cave opening. It was a little over six feet high, irregularly shaped. Other than that, there was nothing to suggest it was anything other then a normal cave. Anything besides that the tugging feeling in my gut had gotten stronger.

Fashioning a makeshift torch from a tree branch and some spare cloth I kept in a pocket, I took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

Instantly I was hit with a prickling sensation, a magic ward being tripped.

Damn, I thought, and then the cave walls disappeared.

 

————————

 

I am standing in the middle of a glade, surrounded by ages-old oak trees. A gentle breeze blows through, swirling leaves around, and tousling my hair. The afternoon sun shines down through the leaves, casting a golden light over everything. It would be the perfect day, if it weren’t for what I knew was about to happen.

Across the glade from me, shock mixed with horror etched on his face, stands my best friend, Trevor Mortlen. He has a hunting spear in one hand, as do I. Mine has the blood of a deer on the tip.

“S-Skye,” the other says, “What-how?”

At first, I am not quite sure what he is trying to say, then it dawns on me: He saw what I did, how I drew the spear back to me from the deer, twelve feet away, clear across the glade.

“Trevor,” I say calmly, forcing myself to look him in the eyes, “There’s something I’ve never told you about myself. I think it’s time I rectified that.”

I see the the hurt and fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Skye, but it’s too late for that. You’re not who I thought you were.” The other says, and begins to back away.

Panic starts to take told of me. I know how this ends. I know because I have relived this moment in my mind so many times, always trying to find an ending different than the one I know is about to happen, never being successful.

“Trevor,” I hear myself say, “Please, you must listen to me. It’s not what you think. I can explain everything, if you just let me.”

My plea falls on deaf ears.

“I’m sorry Skye,” he says again. “I don’t trust you anymore. You’re not someone who should be free to cause harm.”

Each word is like a dagger to my heart. I can barely believe what I’m hearing. This couldn’t be my Trev, the very best friend I had in this world. The person who meant so much to me.

“Please, “ I begged, tears beginning to blur my vision, “Trev, don’t do this.”

He looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t want to. But I have to. I don’t know you anymore Skye.” And he turned away, heading out of the glade, bound for the sheriff’s office in our village.

I was torn apart in that moment, as Trevor turned his back on me. I knew if he reached the sheriff, my life, my parent’s life, maybe even my cousin’s lives, would be ruined, if not over completely.

There was only one way to stop this.

Only one way to ensure the safety of myself and my family.

Screaming my fury at the unfairness and helplessness of my situation, I throw the spear at my love’s back.

I could feel the scene beginning to change. Afraid of what I would be forced to relive next, I pushed against the memories, tearing myself free.

“NNNOOOOO!”

—————————

 

And then I was back in the real world, still standing in the same spot. My legs collapsed beneath me, and I barely managed to catch myself before I hit the floor.

Lifting my torch, I was able to clearly see now that the cave was man-made, probably by some old wizard with elemental powers, which would also explain the ward guarding the entrance.

Finding my mind starting to drift back to the memory that had been triggered, I forced myself to redirect, settling on the the fact that the tugging in my gut hadn’t lessened any, despite the ordeal I had just gone through.

Getting to my feet, crossbow in one hand, torch in the other, I cleared away my jumbled thoughts, and focused solely on the feeling.

It was definitely coming from deeper inside the cave, so despite my growing reservations, I allowed myself to be led into the bowels of the earth, winding downward, past branch tunnels and rooms, drawn ever deeper by the steadily increasing tugging, til' finally, I arrived at the end of the tunnel. Before me was an absolutely ancient oaken door, fastened into the rock via some very rusty iron hinges. The source of the tugging sensation was on the other side of that door, I was sure of it.

Studying the four rusty hinges, I set down my crossbow and torch, stretched out my hands, palms outward, and concentrated.

A second later, the hinges tore free of the rock and zoomed into my hands.

Smiling, I dropped the hinges on the ground, and, retrieving my torch and crossbow, kicked down the old door.

Beyond, the room inside was circular, about twelve feet in each direction, walls, floor, and roof all made of carved stone. Carved into the floor, all around the edge of the room, were strange runes, in a foreign language I didn’t understand. But that wasn’t what drew my attention the second I stepped into the room, nor was it the faded mural-like pattern scrawled across the back wall.

It was the perfectly symmetrical pedestal, placed in the exact center of the room, with a second ring of runes around it’s base.

Atop the pedestal sat………..a gleaming, perfectly polished nautilus shell.

I could instantly tell the tugging sensation was originating from the mysterious shell.

Why, I didn’t yet know.

I slowly approached the pedestal, as if in a trance, and reaching out, picked up the shell.

Instantly the tugging sensation disappeared. I turned the shell over in my hands, studying it. Other then being extra shiny, it didn’t appear any different than any other nautilus shell.

“So what caused the tugging feeling?” I asked into the silence, not really expecting an answer.

But I got one.

A faint sound became discernible in the room, and it seemed to be coming from the shell in my hand.

Lifting it to my ear cautiously, I was surprised to hear the sound of waves, mixed with the chirping of birds, (though I couldn’t tell what species they were from), along with other sounds I didn’t recognize. This close to my face, I noticed for the first time there was something different about this shell.

The stripes on the nautilus were translucent, and in the one closest to me, I could faintly see a beach, made of white sand.

I blinked, and the image was gone.

Shaking my head to clear it, thinking maybe I had imagined it, I turned away from the pedestal, placing the shell in a pocket on my belt.

It was then I realized, without the tugging feeling leading me, I had no idea where I was.

I was lost down here, in this maze of tunnels.

As this set in, my shadow flickered, and disappeared, as the room went dark.

My torch had just gone out.

 

————————————

  

Previous Chronicle stories start here.

  

I was out with the dogs between the snow showers, and we came across this swan with it's head stuck in the fence..

So, after several minutes of "swan wrestling" I finally managed to get it free, and off it went on it's merry way relatively unscaved ..

 

And yes, I think a swan can break your arm !!

 

Poor quality phone shots...

At a local park this morning.

The VortEx 2 rocket flies high over Andøya.

View large.

 

Special NOTE: On Feb. 8, 2012 I attached a comment, readable & easily discoverable on Page 2 of the comments below, that details the vast corporatist scheme, fronted by Jeb Bush, financed in part with hundreds of millions from Rupert Murdoch (FOX nooze), to privatize American public education & reduce it to 'virtual' schools - not to improve anything (as national & international educational research studies clearly show), but rather to become the final recipients of the taxes people pay so that they can skim huge profits off of the top while providing grotesquely inferior services & lots of lying propaganda to keep the public bamboozled. I beg everyone to read the report.

 

The McGuffey's Ecclectic Spelling Book was published in 1879.

 

Raymond Cyrus Hoiles (1878-1970) founded Freedom Communications, a newspaper publishing & broadcasting company that has never hesitated to shape the news to fit right wing ideology. When Hoiles was alive & roaring I lived in Orange County, California, home of the equally right wing Walt Disney & Walter Knott, & was frequently compelled to suffer people who agreed with Hoiles' constantly editorialized insistence that public education was a form of theft & communism that must at once be got rid of. Hoiles was motivated by his fundamentalist Christian persuasions, & quite serious. We should restrain our laughter at the abysmal stupidity of his example, because in many ways he & people like him won & are still winning control of public education. - To introduce the article below, I'll say a little about the Christian strategy.

 

For many years Orange County's teachers worked under a Draconian ruling that forbade the teaching of values. There is no way around the fact, however, that the statement, "Values may not be taught," is itself a value statement belonging to a class of propositions known as Epimenidean Paradoxes. A comparably illustrative sentence would be, "This is not a sentence." Or, a favorite of the best hypnotists, used when addressing a resistant subject, "Do not obey any instruction which I give you."

 

What, then, was intended by those who created the paradoxical Orange County law? Well, if any teacher dared to say or imply something that would be disagreeable to any person whose beliefs began & ended with church, flag & free-for-all capitalism, then that teacher could be charged with teaching values & be suspended. One family friend, a young man teaching at an elementary school in Anaheim, was charged, hounded, publicly disgraced, threatened with death & discharged from his post, immediately after which he died from a heart attack. The case was depicted in Life Magazine. His only crime was that he was Jewish. His wife, also a teacher, remained bereft & embittered the rest of her long life.

 

These people became increasingly invisible over time, largely by devising ever more clever ways for gaining control of both education policy & the public dialogue about education.

 

Ralph Reed, working for Pat Robertson & the Christian Coalition, devised the "stealth agenda" to place fundamentalists in every local school board in America. The plan helped select & fund candidates, who in accord with Reed's instructions never mentioned their religion or religious connections when campaigning for office. In 1983 Reed rigged an election at his university - he got started early, in other words. Recently we learned that Mr. Reed & Jack Abramoff were associate crooks. The revelation forced Reed to abandon his run to become the lieutenant governor of Georgia. Mr. Reed will not disappear, however. He remains a darling of the far Christian right, & owns Century Strategies, a dirty-tricks political consulting & lobbying organization. In 1999 Karl Rove got reed a nice contract with Enron, which was paying Reed $30,000 per month. And guess who recently went to Georgia to try to save poor Reed? Rudy Giuliani, who has the hots to be the next U.S. president & is pandering to the Christians so he can be their new burning Bush.

 

Stealthiness did not go away when the Christian Coalition folded & Reed went off on his own to rig elections for big bucks. Rather, the stealth moved into policy matters. For instance, all the phony propaganda claiming religious & private education is more successful, creating the excuse to promote vouchers (for which the motives are both religious & racist). Or, most recently, Bush's No Child Left Behind Act, which was sought by the Christians not because they believed all the testing of students would lead to improved education, but rather because they wanted teachers to be made too busy preparing students for endless tests about facts to find time to do the great evil thing, which is the teaching of concepts. Teaching concepts leads to teaching logic, scientific & other academic methodologies which by their nature instill respect for critical - read, skeptical - thinking. Dogmatists, advertisers & con men have equal cause to fear skepticism.

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

 

From: Truthdig.com

 

Taking Back Our Schools--and Fixing Them

 

Full text with links: www.truthdig.com/report/item/20060425_taking_back_our_sch...

 

Posted on Apr. 25, 2006

 

By Wellford Wilms

 

The recent news reported in The New York Times that schools are throwing out science, social studies and art to make time for drilling students in remedial math and reading is a sign of things gone terribly wrong. Former New York State Commissioner of Education Thomas Sobol told the Times that narrowing education to just math and reading would be akin to restricting violin students to playing scales day after day. “They’d lose their zest for music.” But most schools that serve poor populations, like those in Cuero, Texas, are squeezed to meet federal math and reading standards. Cuero Superintendent Henry Lind told the paper, “When you have so many hours per day and you’re behind in some area that’s being hammered on, you have to work on that.”

 

But by the looks of things, hammering students for higher test scores isn’t making much of a difference. Most students have already lost their zest for learning. How do we know? In Los Angeles, upwards of 50% of Latino and African American students never finish high school. This is just the tip of the iceberg.

 

I’ve been a professor of education at UCLA for more than 25 years and am convinced that despite the fads that come and go, nothing has put a dent in the public schools’ failure to educate inner-city children. In fact, things are getting worse. But I am also convinced that we’ve been looking in the wrong places for solutions. My own research across a wide array of organizations—corporations, trade unions, public schools, colleges, teacher unions and police agencies—suggests another way of looking at the problem and that solutions will come from a new direction.

 

This essay is a proposition—one that I hope will spark a lively debate among Truthdig readers and inform policy leaders. Future essays will examine Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa’s campaign to take over the public schools, analyze whether teacher unions can be a force for productive change, and expose promising ways to rebuild public investment in the schools.

 

Let’s start with Jonathan Kozol’s new book, “The Shame of the Nation: The Restoration of Apartheid Schooling in America.” It is a scathing indictment of American social policy that banned racial segregation in public schools in 1955 and then turned a blind eye to its implementation. Today, Kozol says, schools are more segregated than ever. But he fails to explain why resegregation has occurred. Because Kozol overlooks the root causes of the problem, his solutions—spending more money on dysfunctional schools and wishing for a social mandate to desegregate the schools—miss the point.

 

To be sure the problems are undeniable. Kozol examines the appalling condition of big-city schools. In school after school we see children who are brimming with potential but who are walled off from the larger society and abandoned by the schools. Most middle-class white Americans simply cannot comprehend the horrid schools that Kozol describes. Ceilings fall in, toilets are filthy, libraries, music and arts have been stripped away. Teachers in these schools, who are paid 40% less than teachers in the suburbs, are forced to teach “scripted” lessons that are written for children who are deemed incapable of learning.

 

It is all part of the latest reform pushed by the Bush administration’s No Child Left Behind initiative, a reform aimed at the singular pursuit of increasing test scores. Learning has been stripped of its intrinsic meaning and reduced to simplistic steps—“Authentic Writing,” “Active Listening,” “Accountable Talk”—that hamper teachers in teaching anything but how to take a test. Behind it all is an attempt to impose control, much as mass production techniques were used a century ago, to standardize instruction to fit new immigrants to the system.

 

Meanwhile, millions of children are failing. In nearly half of the high schools in America’s 100 largest districts, fewer than 50% of students graduate in four years. Most of these students are from poor Latino and African-American families. And from 1993 to 2000 the number of failing schools has mushroomed by 75%. Mayor Villaraigosa calls Los Angeles’ high dropout rates “numbers that should put a chill down your spine.”

 

The reasons, Kozol argues, are lack of money and racial discrimination that produce inferior and segregated schools. No doubt this is partly true. We have tried to desegregate the schools for a half-century and failed. Middle-class white parents have voted for individual freedom with their feet, enrolling their children in private schools, leaving the public schools more segregated than ever. The same is true for middle-class black families. Gail Foster, an educator who has studied black independent schools, was quoted in 2004 in The New York Times as saying: “Many of the most empowered parents and families are removing their children. What’s left, in even working-class communities, are schools filled with the least empowered families. Families with the least parent involvement to offer, families with the least help with homework to offer. There’s been a continual outflow for at least 10 years, and it isn’t stopping now.”

 

More money is not the answer either. Kozol points to wide disparities in educational expenditures ranging from $11,700 per student in New York City to $22,000 in suburban Manhasset. Disturbing as that is, study after study shows that equalizing money does not necessarily equalize learning.

 

In 1966, sociologist James Coleman conducted the most extensive study ever made of desegregating education and found that what mattered most in students’ learning was the economic status of their peers rather than the racial makeup of the school. He also found that school funding was not closely related to students’ achievement—their families’ economic status was far more predictive. Coleman’s findings were controversial and led to a bitter debate, but they have been replicated many times. Daniel Patrick Moynihan summed it up best when he commented shortly after Coleman’s groundbreaking study, “We should begin to see that the underlying reality is not race but social class.”

 

Since social class matters because money follows privilege, and since desegregation will take generations to eradicate, what can be done now? Are poor children doomed to attend grossly inadequate schools? Surely not. We must find ways to remove the influences that have crippled the schools. Money must be diverted from bloated bureaucracies that snuff out innovation. Instead it must go directly to schools where principals and teachers can influence what is taught and what children learn, and help bring parents back into the fold. Otherwise, it is going down a rat hole.

 

Parents have a significant role to play in their children’s education, but their voices have been largely silenced. Over the last 40 years, we have witnessed the decline of civic involvement and the growing dominance of self-interest over the greater good, a social deterioration that sociologist Robert Putnam calls “hollowing out” in his 2000 book “Bowling Alone.” One result, as the old saying goes, is that “the rich get richer” and the poor fall ever further behind in crumbling schools.

 

Over the last 25 years, education in general has been taken from ordinary citizens and teachers by politicians, administrators, union leaders, publishers, test makers, consultants, university professors, hardware and software developers and the media, each playing its part in keeping alive the illusion of reform. All in all, this $1-trillion industry has replaced the common interest, and no one, it seems, can muster the will to rein it in.

 

Local control is only a dim memory. Decisions now come from the top—from the federal and state governments, school boards and high-level administrators who have little knowledge of what goes on in the classroom. Teachers are left out of these decisions, carrying on the best they can, safe in the assumption that the newest fad, like those before it, will blow over. Parents are all but forgotten.

 

While command-and-control management may seem to produce results in the short run, it strips schools of the capacity to develop the stable leadership that is necessary to sustain success. Principals are besieged with demands from district offices and from the educational fads that emanate from publishers and university researchers. Many principals know that they put their careers in peril unless they do what their bosses want. One elementary school principal told me, “District directives undermine our own abilities to think for ourselves, to believe in what we see and know.” When schools discover something that works, it is rarely sustained because they lack authority or stable leadership.

 

In 1969 when I worked for the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare, I monitored the schools in impoverished Ocean Hill-Brownsville in New York City. The local school board hired a charismatic superintendent, who fired incompetent teachers and hired young and idealistic ones. The firings set the local board at odds with the huge teachers’ union, which demanded due process for the fired teachers. The superintendent, Rhody McCoy, was convinced that good teachers had to respect the children they taught. He put it in plain words: “If you’re convinced that this kid is doomed by nature or by something else to lead a shrunken and curtailed life, then you’re basically incompetent to teach that child.” The experiment worked. Observing classrooms left no doubt in my mind that students were learning. Eager first-graders sat attentively on the floor in semicircles shouting out answers to fraction problems and reading aloud. The schools buzzed with excitement as parent helpers streamed in and out of classrooms. But in a bitter power struggle the board seized authority and the experiment ended.

 

Years later, in 1985, Deborah Meier, a passionate educator who founded Harlem’s Central Park East Secondary School, achieved stunning successes that led the school to be celebrated as a model alternative school in Time magazine. But it could not be sustained beyond Meier’s unique leadership. Today, 10 years after Meier left, a respected children’s advocacy group, Insideschools and Advocates for Children, reports that the Harlem school “…has fallen on hard times in recent years with rapid staff turnover, low staff morale and uneven discipline.”

 

In risk-averse environments like public schools, few principals will stick out their necks, because they don’t want to buck the bosses downtown. Courageous and visionary principals like Rhody McCoy and Deborah Meier keep coming. But charismatic leadership is no match for heavy-handed district management, which always wins out.

 

Take Foshay Learning Center in Los Angeles, for example. In 1989, Howard Lappin took over a failing middle school. With the help of teachers and an infusion of money, Lappin wrested control from the district and transformed Foshay. The school expanded into a K-12 “learning center” and became largely autonomous of the district’s bureaucratic requirements. Teachers and administrators decided who would be hired and what would be taught. Foshay succeeded, and in 2000 its high school was selected by Newsweek as one of the 100 best in America. But in 2001 Lappin retired, and his unique leadership was lost. Today Foshay is being threatened with sanctions by the district and the county because gains in students’ test scores have stalled. As the school has fallen under the district’s “one-size-fits all” bureaucratic requirements, the impact has been to undermine the once vibrant teacher leadership that made the school so enviable.

 

The problem with public education is not with the teachers, or with the children, but the way we organize the schools. Probably the greatest casualties are teachers themselves, who are forced to accept decisions by authorities about teaching that they know to be nonsense. One professor interviewed by Kozol said that forcing an absurdity on teachers teaches something: acquiescence. For example, in study after study, teachers report that relying on test scores as sole marks of student achievement and teaching scripted lessons destroy students’ natural love of learning. And such practices also erode teachers’ professional authority, which is fundamental to student learning.

 

Why is it so hard to foster the only kind of reform that really works, which is right in the schoolhouse? Because politicians, school board members and administrators are under intense pressure to produce immediate results, i.e., higher and higher test scores—a goal that is pursued through directives from districts with little input of principals, teachers and parents. Superintendents serve at the pleasure of school boards, and most board members are elected or appointed and have limited terms of office. As test scores have become the measure of educational quality, everyone is under immense pressure to show fast results or be turned out.

 

No wonder that school boards hire superintendents who promise to deliver quick results. But few do. Superintendents last on average only three or four years. Many are thwarted by outmoded bureaucracies that were designed a century ago using top-down control practiced in American industry to mass-produce learning. Within these organizations, power has quietly accumulated, making them all but impervious to outside influence. Sid Thompson, former superintendent of the Los Angeles Unified School District, told me: “Trying to change the district is like trying to change the direction of a fast-moving freight train. You might knock it off course for a moment, but before you know it it’s rattling right down the tracks again.”

 

Frustration and suspicion about who might emerge from the shadows to sabotage their plans often lead superintendents to jealously guard their power. In 2002, Day Higuchi, then president of United Teachers Los Angeles, the Los Angeles teacher union, had high hopes for working with the school district’s new “can-do” superintendent, Roy Romer. Higuchi hoped that Romer would endorse a new union initiative called Lesson Study, a plan to help teachers work collectively to improve classroom lessons. At a breakfast meeting that I attended, Higuchi presented Romer with an invitation to work with the union to develop and spread Lesson Study across the district. When Higuchi finished, Romer flipped over his paper placemat and with a red felt pen drew a box with an S in it. “That’s me,” he said. Beneath he drew 11 boxes with smaller s’s in them, representing the 11 local superintendents, and below that, a number of small boxes with roofs, representing schools and teachers. Then, pulling his face near to Higuchi’s, he drew bold red arrows pointing downward from the top. Romer jabbed his pen in the air to accentuate each word: “You cannot usurp my authority to manage this district!” It was a dumbfounding moment, one that revealed the true underside of the use of power. Here was a chance for a new superintendent to forge a small but significant step with the union, but Romer, who recently announced his resignation, explained that he was “in a hurry.” He clearly had little time for ideas that were at odds with his own. In the end his refusal to work with the union undermined the possibility of creating a broader base of power that could transcend self-interest.

 

Nor are the unions exempt from self-interest. A few years ago I helped establish a national group of union presidents called TURN (Teacher Union Reform Network) who were dedicated to remaking their unions as forces to improve education. One way was to cooperate with administrators and encourage teachers to use their classroom know-how to redesign teaching at the schoolhouse. But hostility and mistrust run deep. The union leaders became nervous, fearing that fellow unionists would attack them for “collaborating” with the enemy and that if the effort to collaborate failed they would share the blame. Don Watley, president of the New Mexico Federation of Educational Employees, commented: “It’s like the Normandy landing. We’ve got the best troops in the world. We’ve got the best officers in the world. And we’ve got the best equipment in the world. But at 0800 when we hit the beach half of us are going to get killed!” Sadly, in the years to come, the ingrained mistrust, and the unpredictable dance of union politics, prevented these unionists from becoming a positive force in educational reform. Instead, they have been reduced to stockpiling power, much as the Soviets and Americans stockpiled nuclear weapons during the Cold War, to oppose any hostile moves the other side might make.

 

So what can be done to break the standoff between teacher unions and districts? How can teachers’ professional authority be restored? How can parents be awakened and brought back into the fold? Experience shows that it can be done. Schools such as Harlem’s Central Park East Secondary, Los Angeles’ Foshay Learning Center, those in Ocean Hill-Brownsville, and many others attest to the fact that schools can be made into safe places where children learn. Sustaining them is the hard part.

 

There is little doubt that trying to build good schools with command-and-control management doesn’t work. School boards, superintendents and union officials need to clear the obstacles—unnecessary bureaucratic requirements and outmoded work rules—to make innovation at the schoolhouse possible. These top-level educational leaders also must make resources available to support new ways of teaching. Jonathan Kozol has it right. Teaching is the only reform that counts and it can be done only at the schoolhouse by teachers, principals, parents and students working together.

 

Turning school districts upside down will also mean turning a century of top-down management on its head. But where is such bold leadership to be found? One promising place is among big-city mayors. But they must resist trying to take over the schools, as they did in New York, Chicago and Boston with mixed results at best. Instead, popular mayors could use their influence and visibility to tell the truth about the condition of education and to build a popular consensus about how change must occur.

 

In the next essay I am going to examine what mayors can do. Waiting for the schools to be saved by someone else is nonsense. Only concerted local action offers a chance. Doubters should recall Margaret Mead’s observation: “Never doubt that a small group of concerned people can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

 

A Progressive Journal of News and Opinion. Editor, Robert Scheer. Publisher, Zuade Kaufman.

Copyright © 2006 Truthdig, L.L.C. All rights reserved.

 

###

  

Having successfully photographed both red line Yutong E12s with the 50 branding, my task now is to get them both with the new 45 number. Half the job is already done with 202 seen here on Canal Street, in a photo very similar to my one with its original branding.

 

YD73 FSJ

2.9.25

 

Successful hunt

 

💙 #LoveBreak - 246 BARRICADE 💙

 

This BARRICADE comes in 12 METALS 6 ADULT VERSIONS + 6 PG VERSIONS all includes 11 COUPLE POSES with the ADULT VERSION includes 5 NAUGHTY POSES which are copyable and modifiable for slight adjustments to fit your avatars perfectly.

 

Exclusively at the TRES CHIC EVENT from 08/19 to 09/12

 

- LANDMARK: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Tres%20Chic/165/56/146 -

 

•SL Mainstore: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Oceania%20Islands/228/66/3504

•Marketplace: marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/227049

•Facebook: www.facebook.com/LOVEBREAKSL

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Pose being displayed: Couple Pose 2

 

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Male Model

•Body Type: Legacy Athletic

•Head: LeLUTKA Noa

•Top: CHEERNO W21 Shirt

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•Backdrop: Synnergy/Tavis Spring Courtyard

successful.

this bar was a hit.

A successful venture for a Jumping Spider (Salticidae sp.) hauling a fat caterpillar up for supper.

 

It was no easy feat; the caterpillar was not giving up life for free and it fought hard to escape. But these incredible little hunters don't throw things back. Eventually the caterpillar gave up the fight and the spider enjoyed its supper.

 

The comment fields show other scenes from this epic battle.

 

View Large And On Black

...on the food swing.

 

Western Jackdaws☻ (Corvus monedula) ☻ Dohle

 

Erfolgreiche Landung ...

... auf der Futterschaukel.

 

I had seen this dress at the Boscov's in Butler Pa and fell in love with it but they didn't have it in my size. I tried ordering it at the Boscov's close to my home but they didn't have my size there either and couldn't order it from another store for me. I took a chance and drove to the Boscov's in Warren Ohio and amazingly they had it in my size. I'll be wearing it out Saturday and taking more pictures then.

This successful mother Cheetah had managed to bring down a small Thompson's Gazelle early in the morning. Having dragged the carcass into the long grass, the two cubs got busy eating whilst Mamma sat on a grass mound scanning the surroundings on the lookout for any approaching danger as a Lion pride was resting not very far.

Photographed in the Ndutu Plains of the Ngorongoro Conservation Area, Tanzania.

Successful marriage takes love, devotion, patience, laughter, hard work, and support of friends and family.

 

I took this candid shot while the "official" wedding photographer was setting up for a group picture. Lucisart.

 

Explore / Interestingness #10 - 22 May 2007 - Thank you!

 

View large - 'We're behind you all the way!' On Black

View my - Most Interesting according to Flickr

A successful industrialist, the archduke has accumulated more than enough wealth through the production and sale of his robots, vehicles and weaponry to sustain himself indefinitely, but he continues to operate his business, continually creating new designs and technologies, at this point simply for the love of seeing his projects succeed

Tap twice for large...Photo number 1 in a series of 10

 

'Busy Parents'. One of a pair of Great Crested Grebes that I watched tending their nest of floating vegetation with three successful fledgling chics...both the parents sharing the duties of bringing food and keeping the nest in tip-top safe condition, West Yorkshire.

 

Many thanks for visiting my Flickr pages...Your visits, interest, comments and kindness to 'fave' my photos is very much appreciated, Steve.

 

Great Crested Grebe Notes:-

 

Reproduction

Once populations arrive on breeding grounds, courtship displays begin and pair bonds form. Pair bonds are usually seasonal, although some pairs have been seen overwintering together. Great crested grebes have an elaborate courtship display. It begins with the male and female facing each other, necks held up straight, showing the whites of their necks. Their ears are vertical, the crest is erected, and the tail is cocked. They both shake their heads from side-to-side, alternating between fast and slow. Between shaking bouts, a preening-like behavior occurs, and then more shaking with wing lifts. Sometimes this display incorporates an outward wing display, in which the tops of the wings are brought forward and the crest is erected. A diving behavior is sometimes incorporated into the display, and occasionally, one bird offers an aquatic weed to the other. Another notable courtship behavior is the advertising behavior, which has only been observed being performed by the female. It consists of a loud, metallic sounding note followed by a quieter purr-like sound. They make this sound with the neck elongated, the lower neck thickened, and the crest flattened. They do not move very much while making this call. The purpose of this behavior is either to attract a mate or to reform an existing pair bond. After pair bonds are formed, pairs look for nest sites together and continue to perform courtship behaviors. Copulatory behavior, such mounting one another, may be performed far before egg laying, and thus does not lead to fertilization. Many nests may also be built, possibly as a form of courtship behavior, before the final one is used to lay eggs. When this nest is chosen, courtship behaviors cease and true copulation, resulting in fertilization, occurs. (Huxley, 1968; Simmons, 1954; Simmons, 1974)

 

Mating Systemmonogamous

Great crested grebes breed once individuals arrive at breeding territories. Pairs can begin forming as early as January. Once on the breeding grounds, they are opportunistic breeders and begin their breeding efforts only once conditions are appropriate. The most important factor that determines the start of breeding is the amount of covered habitat available to build protected nests. Other factors, such as weather, water level, and food supply also determine when breeding begins. For example, if water levels are higher, more of the surrounding vegetation will become flooded. This provides more cover for protected nests. Warmer temperatures and abundant food can also cause breeding to start earlier. Nests are made of aquatic weeds, reeds, thickets, and kelp fronds. These materials are woven into existing water plants. The nests are suspended in the water, which protects the clutch from terrestrial predators. They are built in a few hours and are built equally by the male and the female. The "true nest," where the eggs are laid, rises out of the water, and is distinct from the two surrounding platforms, one of which may be for copulating and the other for resting during incubation and brooding. Nests need to be accessible from water because grebes are aquatic specialists and cannot travel across land. Nest size is variable; for example, larger nests are built in the Baltic Sea than in nearby lakes. Clutches range from 1 to 9 eggs, but average between 3 and 4 eggs. Incubation lasts 27 to 29 days and both males and females incubate equally. Incubation begins after the first egg is laid, which makes embryo development and hatching asynchronous. This causes a sibling hierarchy once the chicks hatch. The nest is abandoned once the last chick has hatched and sometimes viable eggs are abandoned. Brood sizes are usually 1 to 4 chicks. This number differs from clutch size because of sibling competition, bad weather, or egg desertion. There is usually only a single brood, although some pairs double brood, and up to 5 nesting attempts may be made if nests are unsuccessful. Young fledge at 71 to 79 days. (Hughes, 1982; Huxley, 1968; Simmons, 1974; Ulfvens, 1988)

 

Key Reproductive Featuresiteroparous seasonal breeding gonochoric/gonochoristic/dioecious (sexes separate) sexual fertilization oviparous

Breeding interval

Great crested grebes breed once annually.

Breeding season

Great crested grebes breed from January to August.

Range eggs per season

1 to 9

Average eggs per season

3.5

Range time to hatching

27 to 29 days

Range time to independence

11 to 16 weeks

Average age at sexual or reproductive maturity (female)

1 years

Average age at sexual or reproductive maturity (male)

1 years

Parents both incubate eggs and brood and care for their young. Once the chicks leave the nest, the parents take turns carrying young on their back out into the water for up to 3 weeks. The parents still guard the chicks in the 4th week. After the chicks get bigger, the brood divides, and the male and female both choose chicks, which they solely feed and look after. This forms two family sub-groups, which no longer associate and are sometime hostile toward each other. Within the sub-group, there is one chick favored by the parent, who gets fed more often. The chicks stay with their parents for 11 to 16 weeks. (Simmons, 1974)

 

Parental Investmentaltricial male parental care female parental care pre-fertilization provisioning protecting male female pre-hatching/birth protecting male female pre-weaning/fledging provisioning male female protecting male female pre-independence provisioning male female protecting male female

Lifespan/Longevity

There are no data on the average lifespan or longevity of great crested grebes. The oldest known bird was at least 11 years, 10 months, and 5 days old. It was banded as an adult in Britain and found again shortly after death. (Robinson and Clark, 2012)

 

Range lifespan

Status: wild

11.8 (high) years

Behavior

Individuals are not territorial in the winter months and most birds are solitary. During the breeding season, pairs are formed and there is usually little association between different pairs. Occasionally, loose colonies are formed, consisting of multiple pairs. Colonies are more likely to be formed if there is a shortage of suitable nesting habitat or if prime nesting habitat is clumped. Breeding pairs defend nest sites. The size of the territory itself is highly variable among pairs and populations. The male and female in the pair both defend their mate, nest, and young. Frequent fights were observed at one breeding ground in Britain over territorial boundaries during the breeding season. Territory defense ceases once breeding is finished. Great crested grebes exhibit an interesting feather eating behavior. They ingest their feathers more frequently when their diet is low in indigestible matter, this is thought to be a way to create pellets that can be ejected in order to decrease the occurrence of parasites in the gastric system. Great crested grebes are mainly diving birds and prefer to dive and swim rather than fly. (McCartan and Simmons, 1956; Piersma and Van Eerden, 1989; Stanevičius and Švažas, 2005)

 

Key Behaviorsflies natatorial diurnal motile migratory sedentary solitary territorial

Home Range

Home range size of great crested grebes is not reported in the literature.

 

Communication and Perception

Great crested grebes communicate mainly with visual and acoustic cues. They detect prey in the water using visual cues. Mating pairs communicate by producing calls, such as during their advertising behavior. They also perform elaborate courtship displays, which consist mainly of visual cues. Other than communication between pairs, great crested grebes are solitary. Nothing specific is known about olfaction in great crested grebes, but other species of grebes have relatively large olfactory bulbs, which indicates that they may use olfaction for uses such as finding prey. There is also evidence that great crested grebes have a sense of taste. One great crested grebe rejected a fish that was later found to have epidermal infection. Video recording showed that the grebe held the fish in the front of its beak before rejecting it, as opposed to the middle of its beak, which is where grebes hold healthy fish. The front part of the beak used for rejection was later found to contain taste buds, which suggests that taste was the mechanism for rejection. Also, because they are a migratory species, great crested grebes may use magnetic cues to map their routes. (Berkhoudt, 1985; Clowater, 1993; Huxley, 1968; Piersma, et al., 1988)

 

Communication Channelsvisual tactile acoustic

Other Communication Modesduets

Perception Channelsvisual tactile acoustic chemical

Food Habits

The diet of great crested grebes consists mainly of large fish, but also includes insects, crustaceans, molluscs, adult and larval amphibians, and invertebrate larvae. Their favored foods include roach (Rutilus rutilus), perch (Perca fluviatilis), and smelt (Osmerus eperlanus). Great crested grebes catch their prey by diving under the surface of the water. They forage the most during dawn and dusk, possibly because this is when their prey are closest to the surface. This makes the fish easier to detect visually and also reduces diving distance. (BirdLife International, 2013; Piersma, et al., 1988; Simmons, 1974)

 

Primary Dietcarnivore piscivore insectivore eats non-insect arthropods molluscivore

Animal Foodsamphibians fish insects mollusks aquatic crustaceans other marine invertebrates

Predation

Parents perform an interesting egg-covering behavior in which they cover the eggs with nest material before leaving the nest. This behavior has been found to effectively protect against their main predators, Eurasian coots (Fulica atra), which prey on eggs. When the nest is disturbed, the parent covers the eggs, dives into the water, and resurfaces in a location farther away from the nest. Another anti-predator behavior that great crested grebes share with all grebes is the building of nests that are fully or partially suspended in water, which protects the eggs from any terrestrial predators. There is no information in the literature about specific predators of juvenile or adult great crested grebes. However, chicks of another grebe species, western grebes (Aechmophorus occidentalis), are preyed on by fish such as bass species (Micropterus) and pike species (Esox). To avoid juvenile predation, adults carry chicks on their backs for up to 3 weeks after hatching. (Keller, 1989; Ulfvens, 1988)

 

Known Predators

Eurasian coots (Fulica atra)

Ecosystem Roles

Great crested grebes are predators to large fish, such as roaches (Rutilus rutilus) and perch (Perca fluviatilis), small fish, such as smelt (Osmerus eperlanus), insects, crustaceans, molluscs, adult and larval amphibians, and invertebrate larvae. (BirdLife International, 2013; Piersma, et al., 1988; Simmons, 1974)

 

Economic Importance for Humans: Positive

Great crested grebes were hunted for food in New Zealand. Their breast plumage and head plumes were also used for decoration on clothing during Victorian times in Britain. This, however, greatly threatened the species and a group of women formed the ‘Fur, Fin and Feather Folk’ in 1889 who were against killing birds for clothing. (Arkive, 2013; BirdLife International, 2013)

 

Positive Impactsfood body parts are source of valuable material

Economic Importance for Humans: Negative

Some fish farmers complain that great crested grebes eat too many fish and cause economic losses. However, a study showed that grebe feeding only affected fish populations marginally. (Ulenaers and Van Vessem, 1994)

 

Conservation Status

Great crested grebes were historically hunted for food in New Zealand and for plumage in Britain. They are no longer threatened by hunting, but may be threatened by human impacts including modification of lakes, urban development, introduced competitors, introduced predators, fishing nets, oil spills, and avian influenza. However, they currently have a conservation status of least concern according to the IUCN. (Arkive, 2013; BirdLife International, 2013) ADW Notes.

  

I am floating on air as i have today obtained the next level at the Royal Photographic society for this panel&can now use the letters ARPS after my name. In order to get this level the RPS say that they must be "images of 'exceptional standard' This is a significant step up from the LRPS. At this stage a creative ability and a personal style (what makes your work unique to you), along with complete control of the technical aspects of photography must be evident."

Photo of the Painted Hills captured via Minolta MD Zoom Rokkor-X 24-50mm F/4 lens and the bracketing method of photography. Near the Observation Point. John Day Fossil Beds National Monument: Painted Hills Section (managed by the National Park Services). John Day/Clarno Uplands Area. Blue Mountains Region. Wheeler County, Oregon. Early April 2017.

 

Exposure Time: 1/320 sec. * ISO Speed: ISO-100 * Aperture: F/8 * Bracketing: +1 / -1

a week or so ago I posted The female humming bird incubating some eggs on this nest.... Looks like a success. I would have loved to see mom feeding the babies but I didn't want to hang around too much.

White Tailed kite lifting off with the prey

osprey catching a trout

Successful with nesting this year.

Im Chobe Nationalpark in Botswana konnten wir miterleben, wie ein Leopard ein Impala erlegte.

A9, 200-600

On the Fraser River this Ring-billed Gull (?) has caught some king of fish.

LUFTHANSA

 

----- AIRCRAFT INFO. -----

Registration: D-AIMB (München)

Aircraft: Airbus A380-841

Maker: Airbus Industrie

Serial No./ MSN: 41

Delivery date: 21JUL2010

  

----- FLIGHT INFO. -----

Flight #: LH 9919

Origin: Maintenance Testflight

Destination: Maintenance Testflight

Date: 06APR2016

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

 

// The 2nd Lufthansa A380 testflight in Manila. Seen here arriving after a 6hr. long testflight. (Callsign: Mike Bravo 9919 )

The redesign of the Delft train station started in 1999. The project's goal was to move the two tracks underground in order to reduce noise pollution in the tiny, quaint city centre. In 2015 the new station building opened and trains ran successfully through the new tunnels. By 2020, they aim to have the old infrastructure (platforms and viaduct) removed.

 

Again the rear view. Most of what you see here of the new building is inaccessible to the public. In the foreground, emergency vehicle access to the old platforms. Storm clouds rolled in, threatening the last of the evening sun.

After a successful launch on Feb. 15, six NASA science instruments and technology demonstrations continue their journey to the Moon aboard Intuitive Machines’ lander named Odysseus. The company confirmed communications contact with its mission operations control in Houston, and its lander continues to perform as expected.

 

Known as IM-1, Intuitive Machines successfully transmitted its first images back to Earth on Feb. 16. These were captured shortly after separation from SpaceX’s second stage, on Intuitive Machines’ first journey to the Moon as part of the agency’s Commercial Lunar Payload Services initiative and Artemis campaign.

 

All powered NASA science instruments on board the Intuitive Machines Odysseus lander have completed their transit checkouts, received data, and are operating as expected, including LN-1 (Lunar Node 1). LN-1 has made three successful passes with NASA’s Deep Space Network, establishing real-time communications with ground stations on Earth. The anticipated landing time is now 4:24 p.m. EST on Thursday, Feb. 22.

 

This image is a view of Earth captured by a 186-degree wide field of view camera aboard Intuitive Machines’ Nova-C lunar. The start of this image sequence occurred 100 seconds after separation and lasts for two hours.

 

Credit: Intuitive Machines

 

#NASAMarshall #NASA #NASA #moon #CLPS #CommercialLunarPayloadServices #Lander #RoboticLander

 

Read more

 

Read more about NASA’s CLPS (Commercial Lunar Payload Services)

 

NASA Media Usage Guidelines

 

Bald Eagle nabs at alewife at the fish ladder.

“Wouldn't take nothing for my journey now.”

― Maya Angelou

 

Another moment in time...treasure it.

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While I was taking pictures of this jumping spider, a fly had the bad idea to land nearby. The spider approached it swiftly, froze, then suddenly jumped on the naive insect and catched it in an admirable manner. Here is a picture of the agile hunter enjoying its prey.