This is my rainy day icon, photographed from my warm and dry bedroom sometime back but it’s raining again today.
This is my rainy day icon, photographed from my warm and dry bedroom sometime back but it’s raining again today.
Still trying with the iPhone and the best luck I’ve had was when of the busy subjects buzzed my red coffee cup. A larger camera could be in the offing but I think I’ll stick with the red-flowered sage instead of a feeder. The sage blooms often with dishwater dumps in addition to fall rain.
This is my favorite picture of myself, though the image may be too telling.
It was a piece of cake job, if you ask me, a junket, especially as a break from the hot, dirty work of cutting fire lines.
I am sitting on the bank of Hot Creek at the foot of the Sierra Nevada, 10 miles or so from Mammoth, California. It is a bright day in 1972. I am marking fins, measuring lengths and weighing luminous brown trout that have just been netted from the stream after supposedly non-harmful electroshocking for a U.S. Fish and Wildlife survey.
I have a Thermos on the stream bank. I sip hot coffee between quick chores with the shining fish. I can absorb the view at the same time. The cold stream with thermal pockets runs through low brown hills below snow-topped peaks.
I don’t know who took the photo but I have managed to hang on to it. I still have the Thermos, too, though the glass inside broke when I took it to a Sierra Nevada reunion on another creek in 2012. I think I can still smell coffee and sunlight is glancing off the water.
Sunrise often wakes me, sometimes before Cowboy 2. I semi-lept out of bed with my iPhone to capture this morning’s debut. My gentle pup moved into my still-warm place.
I know I’ve really got to work on my flower photos but, you know, when you get happy running across this stuff and there’s an iPhone in your pocket …plus this is what I told my sister in Montana I was doing before I saw the result and I’m just following through. But editorial discretion probably is the better part of iPhone valor …
Lightning strike, Cabezon area, 7:23 pm, September 9.
Walking rain north of Cabezón, September 9.
The Sandias — or Bien Mur or Oku Pin — illuminated by lightning, 10 pm, September 9.
First I just take in the blue, in this case in contrast with the white and green and brown. Then, at least this morning, I think of Maynard Dixon, power poles or no power polls, and thank the pueblos of Santa Ana and San Felipe for preserving the land and view.
My Cowboy 2 after hearing this morning’s coyote kerfuffle with dumb neighborhood dogs. He was quote “living outside” before his rescue by the Best Friends Sanctuary in Utah and then Animal Humane in New Mexico. These days in Placitas, he has no use for thunder, lightning or coyotes. He’s not even too sure about hiking. Been there, done that, he tells me.
dreamranch 