Why don’t we check out the lake?

Later in the morning yesterday – much later than I should’ve – I decided to take a quick trip down to Jordan Lake, see if there was anything happening down there. I had no intentions of spending a lot of time, and in fact was planning to meet someone for lunch, so, whatever I could find in 90 minutes or less (or it’s free!)

Not too shabby, for all that.

pair of osprey Pandion haliaetus wheeling overhead
I feel like I need to keep reminding people (dunno why,) but nature photography is very unpredictable; even if you know the habits and habitats of any given target species, even if you plan meticulously, you can see nothing worthwhile for your efforts. Or you may just snag a few good frames with only trivial preparation. A flight of turkey vultures was wheeling overhead, taking advantage of a small thermal (rising warm air mass) on the edge of the lake, but among them, slightly higher in altitude, were a pair of osprey (Pandion haliaetus.) As I watched, they converged in banks briefly, and I was already backing off the focal length to get them both in the frame.

But that’s too small to see detail, so we’ll go in tighter on that one on the right.

osprey Pandion haliaetus banking
The day was a bit hazy, with a largely boring, colorless sky, but I got lucky with the timing on this one and had a bit of blue to work with, while the sun remained low enough to get some acceptable lighting on them as they banked. Early and late sunlight hours are almost always better for the birds, since the birds are most active then, as well as providing light angles that work for our vantage underneath.

A great egret (Ardea alba) cruised in and landed nearby, but stayed in a cluttered region that sucked for photos, then flew a little ways away when I tried to creep over to a better vantage. But, this allowed me to get better angles.

great egret Ardea alba peering over snag on lake
This is a fairly tight crop, because the suspicious expression comes through better this way. It would be easy to believe that I was the target of this look, but I was quite a distance away, farther than when it had first landed, plus it wasn’t staring, but examining the area. Impressions can be misleading, even if fun.

Soon afterward, a great blue heron (Ardea herodias) revealed itself in the immediate vicinity, and since I didn’t see it fly in, I am presuming that it was very close by but hidden. That’s it over on the left, trying to look like a stick (and you can see how well their coloration works now.)

great blue heron Ardea herodias and great egret Ardea alba sharing hunting ground by snag on lake
Now you know why the previous tighter crop worked better, because there was nothing I could do about that boat ramp in the background. It might have been better had it not been painted bright yellow, but I guess someone thinks boaters should be able to find it in foggy conditions or something. Very typical: no consideration of the nature photographers at all.

For a few minutes, it appeared that the two species were quite fine sharing the spot, but this was, again, the wrong impression.

great blue heron Ardea herodias chasing off great egret Ardea alba
By the way, a word about photography habits. While I might give the impression here that I was closely observing their behavior the entire time, in truth I’d watched for any initial drama, fishing behavior, or good poses, then turned my attention elsewhere. The big lens is too heavy to maintain ‘on target’ for long, plus the narrow field of view means you might miss something happening just outside the frame. Not to mention that I was still looking for more interesting shots, perhaps overhead, perhaps out over the open lake more. So I had to hastily re-aim when I heard the warning croak of the great blue – but I still had exposure compensation on for the brighter sky shots that I was taking in the interim. Thus this frame was mildly overexposed, and has been darkened in post. I’m not happy about all the clutter around the great blue, and if I’d been quicker might have had a better composition a moment earlier, but whatcha gonna do?

Because, keeping my eyes open and watching the entire area for activity netted me the frames that I was happiest to get for the day.

juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus passing overhead
This is what a juvenile bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) looks like – kinda. I mean, it’s one phase; their appearance differs from year to year until their fourth, when they take on the classic adult coloration that we all recognize. Except, this looks like a mix between second and third year plumage, with some indications that it’s in the process of molting. So, someone else can fill in the pertinent details.

By the way, this one has been lightened in post, since I spotted the eagle as it was passing close to the sun (because I’m alert as hell, boyo,) and even though I had exposure compensation dialed in for shooting into the sky, it wasn’t set for shooting the sun, so the eagle was more silhouetted than seen here – I just brightened the darker areas and left the sky alone. And I was glad I listened to that inner voice that told me something was different, because the eagle appeared not far from the vultures. There are some subtle differences in silhouette/body shape, but more distinctly, they have different flapping patterns; vultures tend to flap to gain altitude, but otherwise glide as much as possible, while eagles are more constant flappers, gliding in patches.

Another pic in closing, for the detail.

juvenile bald eagle Haliaeetus leucocephalus overhead showing talon detail
Actually, I just liked seeing those talons tucked up in there, and the fact that it never seemed to close its mouth. Allergies, man – I can relate.

At the forefront

August 28th is (don’t you hate when someone comes out and announces something that even a pre-schooler already knows, as if you are the sole idiot in the world who doesn’t, or maybe it’s simply laziness in finding an opening sentence?) Get Up In Phymata’s Phace Day, and yes it’s spelled that way. I won’t insult you by trying to tell you what a Phymata is, but the alliteration worked much better than the alternative, common name, which I’m not telling you. Anyway, there are no days of the week that start with the same letter; perhaps they could have made it an entire month, but Phymata aren’t as active in June or July.

Ignoring all that, I’m on the case.

jagged ambush bug genus Phymata on butterfly bush Buddleia davidii
As luck would have it, there was a jagged ambush bug Phymata hanging out on one of the butterfly bushes, so I could celebrate the holiday as necessary. But that’s not close enough – we’ll go in tighter on the same frame.

jagged ambush bug genus Phymata in close detail
This close, it’s easy to see where they get their name which I’m not telling you. But there’s some other details which bear noticing (aside from that captivating, hypnotic compound eye,) because. Notice the whiskers under the eye? Yeah, Phymata don’t have whiskers; they’re from something else, and if you look closely you can see evidence of them elsewhere too. This revealed what the Phymata’s last meal was, indicating that the perch was effective, at least.

Another shot, hinting that I might not have been the only nature photographer taking advantage of the holiday here at Walkabout Studios, and the Phymata was getting quite tired of the attention.

jagged ambush bug genus Phymata lifting foreleg near face
While it certainly looks as if it’s shying away and shielding its face, that seems unlikely, because Phymata are attention whores. No, I keed, that would work against them, but I’ve never seen one posing like this, anyway, and this was as I had backed off a little for a more full-bodied grape juice view. Bearing in mind that my subject here is roughly 8mm in body length, able to perch comfortably on your pinky fingernail without overlapping the edges, I was thus using the high-magnification lens, and focus range is eentsy. So, yeah, the occasional frame didn’t quite nail intended focus, but in one case, it showed other details.

closeup detail of jagged ambush bug Phymata foreleg, with clasping surfaces and moth remains
Here we get to see some of the detail on those forelegs, with the serrated grasping surfaces, and once again the remains of the Phymata’s last meal, or at least the attempt at such: the scales and body hairs of some kind of moth. Probably not a big one, considering, but Phymata are fairly capable predators, so the meal might easily have outmassed the jagged ambush bug – strike that name from the record. I actually went looking for the corpse underneath its perch but found nothing – not surprising, considering how little it might have been, the amount of leaf litter underneath the butterfly bush, and the bare fact that ants may have made off with the remains.

In closing, a photo from last night, but this was before the holiday so I was not allowed to get as close as I did today. I had gone through the region with the mist sprayer, so this was one beneficiary; others will be along soon enough.

jagged ambush bug genus Phymata nestled in among blossoms of butterfly bush Buddleia davidii

On this date 35

unidentified white flowers in unidentified locale
On this date in 2012, I was… I don’t remember where I was, to be honest, but I was taking photos of… I don’t know what these are. I just happened to like this little patch of white wildflowers, and I think it was off the back of the property at the old place – other photos from that date indicate that I was home that day, anyway.

But you know? This date in my personal history wasn’t a particularly productive one, so we don’t have much to show for it – it had to happen sometime. Just for the sake of it, I’m doubling up on the next year to be featured, which is 2017, because I got bupkiss to show otherwise.

unidentified crab spider on blossoms of butterfly bush Buddleia davidii
Three years ago, I was encouraging another butterfly bush to grow in the yard, another Black Knight variety, because of just subjects like this: an unidentified crab spider that would lie in wait for whatever pollinator of the right size to come along. In that respect, it’s distinctly similar to this year, because I have several photos of a crab spider about this same size to feature a little later on, even though it’s on an entirely different butterfly bush; the one from 2017 didn’t winter well, and I made a mistake in the spring that pretty much spelled its death (a tragic mowing accident.)

That day, I also spotted, only for the second (and so far the last) time, a curious type of beetle.

golden tortoise beetle Charidotella sexpunctata on sweet potato leaf
I should be keeping a close eye out for another of these, because they seem to like sweet potato plants and we have them again flanking the front door. This is a golden tortoise beetle (Charidotella sexpunctata,) which show a distinctive brilliant gold color and sheen – at least when unthreatened. When danger is detected, they immediately switch to a bright orange color, reminiscent of lady beetles, and they consider nature photographers leaning in close with macro lenses to be ‘danger’ – I know, right? It is in transition here, just starting to turn orange, so my goal is to get some photos of the nice gold hue, which may be challenging, especially given how rarely I see them.

And yes, they really are completely transparent around the edges, because they’re wanton little things. But without it, they wouldn’t see much, certainly not looming nature photographers, so I suppose it serves a non-lewd purpose too, or at least that’s what they try to tell their mothers. I don’t judge, myself, but you’d think beetles could find more respectable ways to behave…

It was a year ago this very night…

… on a dark and stormy road – no, that’s not right at all. It was a clear and warm evening, but it was when we first saw The Monster.

Well, not exactly monstrous in appearance, anyway…

Taz as an adolescent looking out the doorStopping into work for a trivial task, I found a note on one of the vehicles that said someone had seen a kitten sheltering underneath – the initial story is here. The follow-up to that, which I’ve been meaning to get to for some time now, is that we did indeed keep her, once it became clear that the other two cats, while not exactly delighted at this new boarder, could at least tolerate her. Most times.

She’s been named Taz now, though in reality we usually just call her Monster, based on an irrepressible and impish demeanor that is not at all visible in her photos, as well as far too much energy most of the time. It took Kaylee some months to figure out the best way to manage the attacks (some well-timed dodges and otherwise ignoring them,) while Little Girl just bears an underlying resentment; they get into slap fights from time to time, Little Girl seriously trying to get Monster to leave off, while Monster thinks it’s a game. She remains a friendly, inquisitive, and charming cat, with a curiously plush tail for a domestic short-haired, and unlike the other two cats, she plays no favorites among the humans in the house. She was initially completely silent, making the motions of meowing while not uttering a sound, but occasionally she would squeak and, prompted by our imitations, she will now issue a more elaborate version in response, often when I tell her, “Say ‘meek.'” So just as often, I call her Meekers.

And she sleeps with such utter abandon.

Taz/Monster sprawled asleep in the office of Walkabout Studios
I had intended to have some video of her energetic battles with toys, or attempting to tackle Kaylee, or wooing the bird and lizards on the porch, but it simply wasn’t coming together this week, and as it is this is posting late, plus who was waiting for this update anyway? But this is just as much a marker for us, a little chronicle of what’s happening.

Taz/Monster peering down from upstairs balconyFor instance, when a little younger, she was very fond of leaning through the railing of the upstairs balcony, as well as occasionally walking on the thin edge outside of the rails, with a 3-meter-plus drop to the living room; I have no photos of this because whenever we saw it, we tried to convince her to desist, especially since she’s demonstrated that she isn’t the most sure-footed of felines. I know she actually fell at least once, having heard it from the office, with no ill effects other than Monster being a bit startled, and it’s likely she’s done it again, since she’s far less inclined to be outside the rails now. Watching her learn the hard way about wasps was also amusing, again, with no lasting adverse effect.

And just this evening, The Girlfriend’s Sprog was playing with the cats with a fishing style cat toy, a stuffed whatsit on a string and long handle, when Monster somehow got it entangled around a hind leg, freaked, and did a very high speed multiple circuit of the entire house, dragging the toy along in full panic mode, before going to ground upstairs under a bed. She wasn’t hurt in the slightest, just confused by the pursuing creature that wouldn’t release her leg. Yet she recovered her aplomb faster than Kaylee recovers from electrical storms.

Maybe at some point I’ll get to editing some illustrative video clips, but for now, we simply have a shot from today, showing how Monster has claimed The Girlfriend’s sea turtle bowl – she’s also fond of sleeping in my bathroom sink. She seems very happy with the overall turn of events in the past year, and while we weren’t looking for another cat, we’re not complaining either.

Taz/Monster lounging in The Girlfriend's sea turtle bowl

Always with the lizards and pollen

Yeah, I know: trite, trite, trite. But if I didn’t post my latest efforts, someone might believe that I was avoiding such subjects, like some kind of hipster. And I’m far from having a manbun, believe me.

So, briefly, we’ll review some of yesterday’s photos – some from the botanical garden, and some from the sprawling estates of Walkabout Studios.

The NC Botanical Garden reopened recently, and The Girlfriend and I did a brief tour yesterday to get back into the swing of things. On the previous trip, taken the last day it was open, we’d witnessed no small amount of reptile drama; this one was a bit less active, but we likely saw the same black rat snake as earlier (same size, in almost the same location,) and just a few lizards.

large ornate eastern fence lizard Sceloporus undulatus hiding within foliage
I spotted a couple of eastern fence lizards (Sceloporus undulatus) that went for cover immediately, but this one paused within the foliage and I was able to lean in and get a little detail. It had the most vivid markings that I’d ever seen, and was pretty large as well; I wish I’d been able to get a clearer shot, but the defocused foliage is a nice effect, and at least I know where to find the lizard again. Maybe.

While in another part of the garden, a very small juvenile Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis) might have avoided my attentions entirely if it had held perfectly still, rather than leaping to a new perch as I approached, but fine – if you ask me to take a picture, I’ll do it. And I’ll spare you The Girlfriend’s reaction to it, partially because I couldn’t do it justice in print and also because I can’t get my voice pitched that high. Suffice to say, she found it cute.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis perched on thin reeds
This might have been a shade bigger than the one I spotted (only once) on our property, but not more than that. It could hide in a nostril, is what I’m saying. Let’s have a full-length look, as it moved to the oak-leaf hydrangea only centimeters away.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis perched on oak-leaf hydrangea Hydrangea quercifolia leaf
Ya gotta love the pleasant blend of coloration. I need to paint my car like this…

Back home late in the evening, I checked on the flower pots out back and noticed that a few of the four o’clock flowers were opening. It’s been a while since we’ve seen these. Naturally, I had to go in close to get that vivid yellow pollen against the red petals.

pollen of four o'clock Mirabilis jalapa flower in tight closeup
These colors and shapes are so distinct, they ended up in the rotating header images at the top of the page, though my previous strain was considerably more pink. Capturing them isn’t easy, because the magnification has to be high, which means the focus range is extremely short, and the vibrations of the flower on the thin stems, not to mention my own typical wobbling in position, means sharp focus occurs in fractions of a second. Still, perseverance pays off; let’s go in closer.

pollen of four o'clock Mirabilis jalapa flower in tight closeup
This was taken with the reversed 28-105mm lens, and if you’ve been paying attention to the posts when it appears, you’ll know it can do some wicked magnification. But if not, I can provide a bit of scale, because truth be told, I’d forgotten myself how small the pollen is, so I made it a point to do something illustrative.

four o'clock Mirabilis jalapa flower against fingertips for scale
At some point, I intend to collect some pollen from both these and the morning glory blossoms, and get them under even higher magnification, either the microscope or the lab scope that I finally created a decent mount for, because the pics I have hint at some details I’d like to see better. We’ll see how soon they appear, I guess.

But how? Part 27: Not even the start

We’ve long departed the question format and are now delineating how many ways religion is merely a sop to ego and wishful thinking, and this one is perhaps the most distinctive evidence of that trait. So let’s look at how proving the existence of (a) god would barely even be a start.

I’ve encountered a lot of rationales behind believing in the existence of god – and the vast majority of believers seem to think that this could only be a singular thing, no recognition of the myriad gods throughout history and presently across the globe, no attempt to distinguish any in particular. With no exceptions that I can bring to mind, all of these were far from what we could charitably call, “robust;” most were so flimsy that they wouldn’t even make it to a standard arraignment, things like, “Everything must begin someplace,” and, “I had a vision,” and, “This many believers can’t be wrong,” and the latest that I’ve heard, “It’s impossible for all of this to happen by chance.” Yet I’m not here to point out the pathetic nature of these ‘proofs’ for an omnipotent being (even when this aspect really should be highlighted frequently,) nor that proving an omnipotent being is actually impossible. Instead, we’ll make a huge and unwarranted assumption that any given one really can serve as proof, and move on to the key topic, which can be characterized simply by saying, “And?”

Let’s take the latter argument first, the one saying that such things couldn’t happen by chance (again, impossible to prove in any way, but we’ll assume that it has been.) This establishes nothing more than a non-chance factor, which could be as simple as a new law of physics, or extra-dimensional interference, or yes, even a directed and sentient being. And everything in between. Choosing any one, or even ruling out any given aspect, would take a lot more evidence, some very specific proofs. When people started noticing how well the coastlines on both sides of the Atlantic seemed to fit together, as well as the similarity in both geology and fossil finds on opposing continents, and first proposed the idea of continental drift, the immediate response was, “But how are continents supposed to move?” While intriguing, the concept wasn’t considered very useful until this method of movement was not only proposed, it was proven to be taking place currently – this took no small number of interconnecting bits of evidence. Imagine, if you will, trying to establish the difference between a new law of physics and a dimensional rift, for something that happened nearly 14 billion years ago.

Or let’s assume that we’ve proven that a ‘vision’ was something more than imagination – somehow, I’ll let you hash out the details. How, exactly, would we know who or what it was? How could we trust anyone’s assurance that it was the virgin mary and not isis, or izanami-no-mikoto, or tiamat? I mean, none of them had their appearance recorded in any verifiable way, and none of them spoke English. We’d best be producing something a lot better than, “female” – especially if we want to convince the followers of all other religions. But for something useful, the message had better be pretty specific to account for all of the ways such a thing could be interpreted – which should not be outside of the powers of any supernatural being of course. It’d be pretty pathetic, really, for any such message or vision to have any vagueness whatsoever.

It gets far, far worse. No religion, no scripture, no faith, that I’ve ever come across is not rife with varying interpretations, multiple versions, different sects, and countless disputes, some of which get quite bloody. Oh, you’ve established that the christ story really took place? Well, is it the catholic god, or the protestant god? This isn’t a trivial distinction, since not only do they have wildly different accounts of afterlife and redemption, it remained a bone of contention between England and Ireland up until very recently. Even in the very early days of christianity (like within the first century,) there was a rift and disagreement over whether christ was a human with divine influence or a wholly supernatural being, something that scripture (no matter what version) fails to address entirely.

And the choices are not limited to only two – they may, in fact, be extremely difficult to count. I’ve said before that there’s more evidence for every religious person’s concept of god to be different from all others, rather than for any consistency even within a local church, so for religion to be of any guidance, pinning down these details is actually paramount. What are this being’s actual views on abortion? Especially given that it’s not actually spoken of anywhere within scripture. Is eating shellfish really a damnable sin? Are women really just baby-makers? And what’s with the huge disconnect between the creation stories and every last bit of physical evidence that we have? What kind of game was being played here?

Further, imagine now trying to convince muslims, and buddhists, and even jews, that they’re all wrong and this particular sect, whatever it is, is the correct one. I mean, you’ve got the evidence, right? So there’s no chance of abject denial, or pushback, or any further holy wars and conflict? I’ve long said that just having religious people agree on only one religion, even the broader interpretations, would be a start towards proving the existence of a god, and that’s because overcoming simple human nature in this manner would be a superhuman feat. So sure, prove me right.

It gets even worse, because all this, so far, has assumed that at least one of our concepts of a god and its intentions is correct, while it remains distinctly possible (especially given the huge variations in religious thought across the globe) that none of them are, and we’d have to determine what, exactly, are the thoughts and goals of this supernatural being. None of the collections of scripture that we have are very comprehensive in that regard, usually far less so than we believe, since churches and priests and so on have been filling in the gaps and ‘interpreting the metaphors’ for centuries now; most christians, for instance, are unaware that hell receives no mention whatsoever in the old or new testaments, and remains a concept cribbed from the Mesopotamians. So there really should be a lot of legwork to determine what this god’s intentions for mankind are.

And that’s assuming that any communiqué that we receive is trustworthy, regardless of whether we feel comfortable with having a god that matches any of our previous descriptions. If we’re brutally honest with ourselves, many of the scriptural accounts are of beings too petty to put faith in, often demanding ego-stroking, and too often displaying a rather cavalier attitude towards its own previous pronouncements and ‘plans.’ Who’s to say that what we receive is actually truthful? Science fiction, at least, has made recognition that mere mortals may bear little to no significance to any being that can create at will, and let’s face it, we’re pretty damn petty ourselves, not really displaying a lot to be proud of. We could simply be a casual pastime, an experiment, or even the project of a sadist. How are we to know?

So yeah, the questions! There are millions of them, just regarding the proper interpretations of vague scripture all by themselves, to say absolutely nothing about the ones not covered or even hinted at. And then, then, you have the billions that would arise over the very existence, structure, and processes of a supernatural being itself, of enormous interest to the scientific community as well as the merely curious, or for that matter, everyone that is not simply looking for validation in their personal choice in the first place. And all of the Why questions? The purpose of it all, the rules of the game, the definition of evil (much less the necessity,) the processes of afterlife, and on and on and on. If you imagine the number of things we would have to study about any form of extraterrestrial life that we might actually encounter, multiply these exponentially for a supernatural being or force. To start.

This highlights something that I’ve pointed out numerous times before, and that’s the idea that real information, useful knowledge, isn’t about mere self-indulgence, but serves to advance us, improve our lives, enrich us, and so on. It answers questions even while posing more, but most of all, it gives us something to work with, something that predicts and explains and forms a building block for even more improvement – this describes virtually every scientific achievement that we’ve made over the centuries, even the ones that took decades to show their value. Just finding out, for example, that chocolate is the most popular ice-cream flavor can lead to questions about how and why, and what functions this provides within humans to become this way, maybe what areas of the brain it triggers, and so on. The bare fact of chocolate’s popularity is, by itself, of little use.

The kind of people that find some simple factor is acceptable as evidence of any kind of god are only seeking gratification, and to be sure, when it’s as vague as “god,” anyone can and will interpret that to mean their own; well, hooray for that tidbit. That puts us no closer to finding the True™ path than before. And in fact, when it comes to providing guidance for humans, to get along, to achieve peace, to improve ourselves and our culture – the one thing that all religions can agree is their primary value – this puts us even further away from it, promoting false confidence in “the way” rather than inducing any actions to actually find it.

Which introduces another telling aspect. Atheism, for instance, doesn’t have anything at stake: there’s no penalty for the wrong belief, other than what humans end up doing to themselves in the names of such beliefs (which is significant enough, to be sure, and where secular humanism picks up the reins.) But most religions across the globe are pretty adamant about the penalties of incorrect faith, of following false idols, or even just ignoring key tenets while following the correct ones. With this kind of danger hanging over their heads, consequences that may involve reincarnation as lesser beings all the way up to everlasting torment, you’d think that the search for exacting evidence, the support for the one proper path, would be absolutely paramount in the minds of the religious; they simply cannot afford to be wrong. And given many of the scriptural accounts of what happens when a god is displeased with humans – even if we (rashly) consider these to be only metaphorical – the consequences may go well beyond the strictly personal, so any and all individuals bear the responsibility of ensuring that they’re absolutely correct.

Thus, the criteria for evidence should be exceptionally demanding, shouldn’t it? In fact, it may become never-ending, but at the very least, anything that is open for interpretation, that could be mistaken for chance, that might apply to a range of the world’s deities (or a new law of physics, or extra-dimensional interference,) wouldn’t be anywhere near enough, and would likely not be considered evidence at all. If it can be questioned, it’s not sufficient – we can’t afford to screw up.

Given that this is hell and gone away from what we actually see from a very large percentage of religious folk, we can only wonder what they do believe, and/or what they’re hoping to accomplish when settling on their specific faith. But it’s safe to say that the benefit is minimal if not nonexistent.

Of course, I have to put this here:

I feel I should clarify

The lead image for the previous post, the infra-red-yet-kinda-beige one? Well, there was no intention of making it match the background color of the blog; I was just tweaking the color register away from the washed out blue-grey of the original file, and found that I liked it as a bit richer than sepia tone. The photo editor of course does not have the same background as the blog, and there was nothing to compare it against, and as I was proofing the post before scheduling it to appear, I wasn’t really paying attention to that aspect because I was looking over the text for typos and syntax errors (not that I was correcting them, mind you.) The photo was already done so it was out of my mind.

One could argue that I subconsciously aimed for a matching hue, which could be true: it’s not only very close to the color we settled on for the repainting job mentioned in that post, it’s also within a shade or two of the color that I painted my own bedroom in, back in New York in the eighties (yes they had color paint back then.) Then again, you can imagine the same image in a blue or green register and realize that they just wouldn’t work as well, and strictly monochrome was a little too boring. I’m not even defensive over the choice – I just wanted to say it wasn’t intended to match, and honestly, it doesn’t, it’s just close.

I don’t care if you don’t believe me.

On this date 34

Blue Ridge mountain outcrop in infrared
It’s funny – just a couple of days ago, I realized that I hadn’t posted anything since the previous On This Date post, and was worried about that. Guess I filled in the gap…

Anyway, our first entry is from 2006, one of the few trips that I’ve taken to the Blue Ridge Mountains. This time, I was playing with infra-red photography with the Canon Pro-90. It didn’t originally look like this, however; the in-camera effect is monochrome in the faintly purplish range, and much lower contrast, so this has been altered, playing with the color registers. I kinda like it.

By the way, see that shadow on the road? That’s a car passing during the one-second exposure necessary for infra-red. If you look even closer, right at the height of the road’s edge, you’ll see that it had its running lights on. Such composition!

Following, we have another trivial curiosity. All three of the images below were back-to-back in the spreadsheet that I created for this: 2008, 2012, and 2013, all from the Arthropods folders – just, not the same folder, because I have over 22,000 digital arthropod images. But still sequential when you start with the month and day…

trio of images of dragonfly, mantis, and mantis with green lynx spider
Isn’t that veird?

I must also note that 2012 was easily the most productive when it came to arthropod images, because I amassed 6,693 for that year alone – and those are the keepers. Nary a bug in North Carolina went unphotographed…

Finally, we have an entry from just last year, which allows me to pin down exact dates of last year’s events, since I took this while my brother and I were doing a brief outing before putting him on a plane back up to New York.

great egret Ardea alba preening in tree canopy
I’d done a vacation trip to Ohio and New York, and driven back down with my brother to enlist his help in painting the living room/stairs/upstairs hallway – due to the curious design of this house, they’re all contiguous, so it was a major job involving high walls and vaulted ceilings. The Girlfriend still enthuses over the improvement, so we’re good.

Oh, the pic? Yeah, it’s a great egret (Ardea alba) in a tree overhead, letting me get a lot of cool frames, among them this one. The birds are simply falling over themselves to have their pictures taken by me. Now, if I could only get them to think about the clutter, and perch in better locations…

Building slowly

silhouette of green heron Butorides virescens in typical perch on log
Despite some modest success recently, I’m still pursuing the green herons (Butorides virescens) at the nearby pond. They remain as secretive and shy as ever, but I’m slowly finding ways to subvert this, so the collection of photos is growing.

A state of affairs I’ve been able to exploit has been that one heron, at least (there are several, with no way to tell them apart yet,) has taken to hunting from a snag within fairly easy view of shore. Of course, the heron has an easy view of me, too, so I have to move in slowly and take advantage of the times when it’s hunting, thus less aware of closer approaches. The green herons seem to suffer from inattention blindness, or perhaps focusing too intently, because when they’re looking like the frame below, you can approach them a lot closer than normally.

green heron Butorides virescens posed on snag
The pond is quite active with tiny minnows, so the herons have plenty to feed on, and it’s usually not a long wait for some action. This was approaching sunset, with the sun almost directly behind the heron – not ideal, but whatcha gonna do?

green heron Butorides virescens watching water intently
I thought I had a great opportunity for a fish capture here, but after a few moments the heron turned around and began hunting on the other side of the log. Spoilsport.

green heron Butorides virescens making strike at minnow
At least I was ready when the strike occurred – which still can be hit-or-miss, both from the heron’s standpoint and from the photographer’s. The strikes happen so quickly that timing is somewhat up to chance, not at all helped by shooting from the shady side and thus losing the shutter speed advantage that brighter light would bestow. Still, this one isn’t ruined by motion blur, so it could be worse.

green heron Butorides virescens with successful capture
But the position meant the little minnow that the heron captured remained hidden behind the log most of the few seconds it was even within the bird’s beak, and when it wasn’t, it was moving. So, yes that’s a fish, but no, I’m trying for better than that.

green heron Butorides virescens with head almost hidden
I happened to like this one for the barely visible eye, which was actually intentional on my part (while the heron was once again hunting on the far side.) These are all shot at 600mm, by the way, and cropped tighter afterward, because I still can’t get terribly close. One of these days I’ll pace it off for accuracy, but right now I’m estimating it at 12-15 meters off. I at least took a seat on the ground for these, gaining a little stability.

green heron Butorides virescens beginning stalk
Much as it might look like the same conditions, this is actually the morning a few days later, with the light coming from the right direction – when it wasn’t shielded by clouds. So much for planning.

green heron Butorides virescens adopting striking pose
Still fishing on the far side, but at least I had a good view and a semi-comfortable position to remain in. So I was more than ready as the pose and intensity told me a strike was likely to happen any second. This happens frequently, but then the fish goes deeper or moves off, and the heron relaxes again. Not this time, though.

green heron Butorides virescens super-extending neck during strike
Hazzah! Damn, that looks painful, but it illustrates how much neck remains hidden in those feathers most of the time.

green heron Butorides virescens with successful capture
Success! So you know, the heron will retain such captures for a few seconds on average, quickly juggling it into a head-down position to be swallowed easily (lots of fish have spines on their dorsal fins to prevent otherwise.) In moments, it’s gone. On occasion, it takes a little longer though.

In fact, it was watching this, and thinking about the sequence at that link, that made me go out this morning with the macro-tripod in the hopes of catching such a thing on video. Alas, it was not to be today. I spotted the heron on this same snag initially, but realized that I forgot the ground pad; the rain has been recent enough that I’d be soaking through my pants by sitting on bare ground, and while I’ve done this, I prefer to avoid it when I can. In the few minutes it took me to return, the heron had moved on, likely spooked by someone walking their dog up to the shoreline nearby. I circled the pond and spotted two close together, but in the typical cover conditions where no clear view is forthcoming, plus I was standing upright and leaning out on the very edge of solid footing to get the shot below. Not the kind of conditions to try shooting video within, even if the heron had deigned to hunt instead of staring at me suspiciously. Another time.

green heron Butorides virescens peering out from semi-concealment

Frog Monday

Posted with a nod to the Inestimable Mr Bugg, who told me weeks ago that he was going to do his ‘Frog Friday’ topic for August, but then apparently the server lost his posts until recently. Meanwhile, I waited on my various frog pics so as not to upstage him, and now appear to be copying him instead. Ah well.

Our first is the most recent, a peculiar portrait that I couldn’t pass on.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea hiding in ant trap
“What the hell am I looking at here?” I hear you say, and normally I’d let you figure it out for yourself just for using profanity, but fuck it, I’m feeling generous. Because of ant raids, I’d constructed a little ant trap on the hanger for the hummingbird feeder on the back porch, a simple device from a plastic bottle that retains water around the wire so ants cannot cross; it’s been there for years now. After heavy rains the other day, I was up on a stepladder cleaning out a clogged gutter, glanced over and saw the bare hints of this individual (which is a green treefrog, Hyla cinerea,) so of course I needed the photo.

After this, I reached in there carefully to see if I could nudge it into better view, and it panicked and leapt out of the bowl in one great arc, landing on my camera lens – for obvious reasons, I could not get a pic of this (because it would have required using my phone, and you know how I feel about that kind of bullshit.) Anyway, it was transferred over to the porch railing without further drama.

juvenile Copes grey treefrog Hyla chrysoscelis on tomato plant
Back at the beginning of the month, I found this tiny little guy perched like a jewel on the leaves of one of the tomato plants by the front steps – it’s a juvenile Copes grey treefrog (Hyla chrysoscelis,) and is slightly larger than a Japanese beetle in size (which puts it less than 1/4 of adult length.) I’ve kept a wary eye out ever since, but have never spotted it. This isn’t too alarming, because the number of places in the immediate vicinity where it could find cover are great, but still…

We’re going to be alternating greens here.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea calling at night
This one’s even older, coming from the beginning of June, but another green treefrog was calling on the edge of the nearby pond one night – you can see the half-inflated throat pouch and the fully-inflated belly, which will switch places during the active call. I liked this one, however, for the placement of the hind foot, clasped against the belly like that; added oomph to the call, is what I’m guessing. I hope it worked in helping to find a mate – evolving clever frogs would be fun to see.

How about something more ominous?

Amercian bullfrog Lithobates catesbeianus looming from darkness because of mis-aimed flash unit
I have plenty of photos where a mistake was made, or something didn’t turn out as planned, and I usually toss them during the sort. But occasionally, an unintended effect comes up and makes me keep them, and this is one example. I’d forgotten that the flash was aimed for a different subject, and as I corrected it after this frame, the American bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus) disappeared, but the under-exposure gives it a nice looming quality. Plus the framing lends a little idea to the size of the specimen, which was appreciable: it would have overlapped my open palm easily, and could swallow a mouse. I’d love to be able to catch one eating something (or indeed, any of the various frog species here in some kind of action,) but even getting close to them requires stalking at night with bright lights to dazzle them, and then they’re too sensitive to impending danger to act naturally. Maybe someday I’ll figure out how to accomplish this.

And our last green treefrog. For now.

young adult green treefrog Hyla cinerea perched on edge of birdbath
This one was perched on the edge of the birdbath in the front garden one evening, so I quickly got a few frames before it moved on. It would be easy to believe that the treefrogs are fond of ponds, birdbaths, and other water sources, but in truth, they’re only used for laying their eggs, and otherwise treefrogs inhabit a fairly dry environment, despite their need to remain moist. They’re usually not out in the rain, but may emerge soon afterward, seeming to prefer post-storm conditions for mating. So no, this guy wasn’t swimming in the birdbath – it just happened to be a handy spot on its nightly perambulations. This was roughly half adult size, so about as big as the top joint of my thumb, and seems to be hanging around the front area, which I’m doing nothing to discourage – except [ahem] that I keep looming into their faces and firing off bright lights. But we’re maintaining a lot of plants and even light sources to attract insects, offsetting the negative aspects more than adequately, I hope. The numbers have noticeably increased, so we’re not doing anything too wrong.

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