I'm here to make some excuses for my less than reliable blogging schedule. Part of it is just being in a new place and falling into different rhythms. Part of it is because it's been a really cold, snowy winter and there's only so much to see and photograph when the world is buried under a few feet of snow, whenever I venture out into the cold. Mostly it's because up here in the country, our only "high speed" internet option is satellite and really, they misrepresent the meaning of speed. A simple upload of a dozen photos to Flickr seems to take a matter of hours with several images timing out and the whole process needing to be started over again. I started an upload about fifteen minutes ago and it's just now retrying the first image after an unsuccessful start. I have yet to find a time of day or kind of weather (that file just timed out again) which facilitates the upload.
Anyway, I'm less inclined to do a series of posts in advance like I normally did because of this. Okay, that's enough complaining. On with this group of photos. I'm sure they'll upload eventually. In fact, if you're reading this, they obviously have.
The things that stand out are often the oddities.
~ Pierre Salinger
Oddities. I'm probably stretching the boundaries a bit here but for the sake of going with a theme, please humour me.
Three suns! Well there you go - that's not true at all. But it is one lovely rising sun and a couple of glares reflecting off of the glass through which I was shooting. That's what happens when you don't follow the rules and end up shooting straight into the sun.
This goes back to late November when we had freezing temperatures but no snow. I was walking Benny one morning and found a dead chickadee on the road. I tried to pick it up so that I could put it on a grassy area - it just didn't feel right to leave it on the road. But I did end up leaving it there because I couldn't remove it - it appeared to be frozen to the road. The next morning, all that was left of it was its wing - still frozen to the road. I guess it became some creature's meal.
Fast forward to February 21. My friend Carol Anne and her significant other, Michael were visiting. The three of us went out for a walk and this shed/garage caught Michael's eye. "Look at the roof. That's about to slide off of there any time now." Carol Anne and I agreed that it was only a matter of time. How long could gravity hold out? Well, fast forward again. The above photo was taken on March 9th. We've not had a notable snowfall since the middle of February and so it has to be the same snow that was saw the previous month. Evidently, gravity is a stubborn old fart.
I snapped this photo because I thought that cloud looked like a distant mountain. If I didn't know the landscape around here, I could have easily been fooled. I never claimed to be clever.
Let's have a look on the other side of the house. The small table on the deck had a fair pile of snow collecting on top of it. I had been watching a blue jay flit about on the deck - probably after it peeled more paint off of the house. For a brief moment, it seemed to perch on a tiny icy shelf on the side of the snow pile. When it took off again seconds later, it left its impression behind. Can't see it?...
Have a closer look.
Frank's friend Peter has been up to visit us a few times. It's been pretty cold his last few times up here. He's no longer in the habit of using the back deck as a refrigerator for his beer supply. Not when Mother Nature behaves more like a freezer. This bottle was nearly frozen solid inside.
I looked out over the lake one day, to see not one but two of these beasties flying fairly low over the water. I was able to grab the camera in time to snap this second of the two planes. The next day, Frank spotted them again, one of them banking fairly close to the tree line - or so it seemed. I knew where to turn in order to confirm which of our Armed Forces aircraft it was. My son, Jeffrey quickly replied to my emailed question and image with the information I wanted. "It's a C-130J Hercules transport aircraft. It would be from 436 Squadron out of Trenton." He also figured that they were in training. The boy knows his stuff.
Early one morning, the sun was rising in shades of gold which reflected off of the snow crystals all over our yard. It glittered like diamonds. The previous night, Frank saw the same sparkles by moonlight. It wasn't as cooperative as the morning light for photography though.
We've had a fair number of ladybugs winter over at our place. They entered the house by the dozens in October, before I was here to stay. Frank would give me the running count in email each day - "I just caught and released ladybug #47 for the day!" Of the dozen or more that we've seen around the place through the winter, some have died but the rest seem to be enjoying the winter sunshine by roaming the kitchen window sill. This one made its way over to the top of the coffeemaker and was having a good look at its reflection.
A little bit of frost on the bedroom window caught not only the glint of the golden sunrise but other jewel tones, as well.
That's it for now. More photos coming before too long - Flickr willing.
