Creeping ever closer

Al Denelsbeck

I think it really would be spring already, if the big weather systems would stop hurtling across the country and scaring it away. I’m going to berate everyone in states west of here for letting these hooligans get past them.

purple hyacinth flowers
Yesterday the weather cleared and warmed again, and I did a small patrol of Walkabout Estates to see what was going on. I already knew the blue hyacinth flowers were coming up, having been a bit smarter than the pink by waiting for the freezing temperatures to pass. And a few branches of the rosemary bushes had been pushing out the occasional blossom for a few weeks now, though this one seems ready to do it proper very soon.

single blossom with many buds on rosemary bush
Abruptly, however, the Yoshino cherry tree was sporting the first flowers, apparently spurred by the heavy rains recently. The sky was clearing, so with a little awkward dancing I was able to get some blue in there, even when the flower itself was in the shade of the larger trees nearby.

first blossom of Yoshino cherry tree
I say “awkward” above because the tree is only a little taller than I, and most of the blossoms sit at eye-level or lower, but aimed downwards for some evolutionary reason, so getting a ‘face-on’ perspective required half-kneeling and aiming upwards, and then scooting around to get a patch of blue for the background. Honestly, the efforts that this content requires – you should be honored.

And one of the itty-bitty maples out back was sporting some samaras, which made a little photogenic spot by itself.

samaras seeds of unidentified maple tree
It’s curious: the maple and the cherry trees throw out flowers first thing, long before any leaves appear, while the almond tree is well leafed out but probably won’t produce any flowers for a little while yet – judging from the two times past that it’s done so, it could happen any day or not for a couple weeks yet. Or not at all. Really, two blooming seasons totaling four flowers isn’t anything to make a baseline from.

But then there was the surprise.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis leaving basking spot
Out behind the shed, atop a stack of windows that had been replaced last year and we’re still trying to figure out what to do with, a smallish Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis) attracted my attention. It was certainly warm enough today, though the nights have still been getting fairly nippy and I imagined that this guy would have waited a bit longer for dependably warm temperatures, but here we are. It was being just a little cautious and so getting a decent portrait remained beyond me yesterday, though I tried three separate times. But then, as The Girlfriend got home and I took her around to see the little spud, we found another, a large adult only a couple meters away.

adult Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis remaining motionless on scrap wood
This one was on a couple of pieces of scrap plywood that we retain for projects, and settled itself into a camouflage position against the edge, so my careful approach allowed for a much closer portrait, helped by the bright afternoon sun.

As I was doing this, I was pondering their life cycles a little bit. I read that they only produce one egg at a time, unlike the various skinks in the area, and to the best of my knowledge they only have one birthing season though don’t quote me on that. So, two adults producing one offspring a year? That doesn’t make for impressive numbers, or even survivability, which likely means there’s more to the equation, either more birthing seasons throughout a calendar year, or males impregnating multiple females each season, or both. Many species have multiple offspring, either clutches of three to seven or so like the skinks, or a few dozen to hundred like the mantids, solely to combat attrition, the loss of offspring before they can reach reproductive age. One egg just seems all wrong, but again, me photographer, someone else herpetologist.

The same adult settled in immediately adjacent to its perch above once night fell, as I discovered when I went back out later on to see what the evening held.

adult Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis sleeping between plywood planks
I never would have spotted this had I not been prompted to look from finding it nearby earlier, and I’m pleased that the flash got into the crack adequately – that’s why it’s at a diagonal. I was too lazy to readjust the flash arm to account for the position of the boards, so I just tilted the camera rig.

The greenhouse is right next to this, so I peeked in to see if there was activity, and there was.

juvenile green treefrog Hyla cinerea perched on trumpet flower Brugmansia
There’s no reason this image should be as clear as it is, because this juvenile green treefrog (Hyla cinerea) was tucked in among the voluminous leaves of one of the trumpet flowers (Brugmansia,) and getting a clear view was hard enough; I figured the flash head was going to be well blocked, but apparently not. This is not the one that I placed in there for its own safety a few days back, being much smaller; the foliage in there is so dense right now that a dozen or so could be perched within and I’d never see them without a major expedition. In a couple of weeks, most of the plants will move out into the yard, and I’ll try to ensure that the treefrogs go with them. And then, maybe we’ll get some tomatoes and basil established for year-round production.

Each year I treat the appearance of the treefrogs as the ‘official’ start of spring, which is better than some fixed date, though that frog above, being in the greenhouse, doesn’t count. This one does, though.

adult Copes grey treefrog Hyla chrysoscelis perched on wall
Over on the wall right alongside the frost cover for the water spigot, an adult Copes grey treefrog (Hyla chrysoscelis) sat evaluating the temperature, not quite warm enough to consider it mating season even while, somewhere in the distance, the chorus frogs were vocally proceeding with the event. While I’ve been trying to get more dynamic and fartsy with my photos, this one didn’t lend itself to any creative approaches at all, though I’ll Photoshop something up if you really want it (even though it’ll be with GIMP instead, but that doesn’t sound right as a verb.) Almost directly underneath it, a juvie green was perched on a grounding wire, but that was even worse.

So instead, I’ll close with the juvie green out front, peeking from the rain gutter under the roof overhang and looking intrepid, or something.

juvenile green treefrog Hyla cinerea perched on overhead rain gutter
Why do we have rain gutters under the roof overhang? It’s hard to describe, but it makes perfect sense – not all of it is under the overhang, just a small portion where it connects to the downspout that runs along the wall. Seriously, we’re on it, okay? Just appreciate the noble crimefighting frog here.

Visibly different, part 11

Al Denelsbeck

mountain runoff splashing on rocks
For our opening image today, we go back to 2005, my first trip to the Blue Ridge mountains in NC despite the fact that I’d lived in the state since 1990 – in fact, I’d moved out of state (to three different states, but that’s another story in itself,) before moving back in the year previous to this. Anyway, I was following vague directions to various waterfalls when I came across a small cave deep in the woods, with runoff forming a curtain across the entrance, and in one small spot, a ray of sunlight was lancing through the forest canopy to illuminate the water splashing on the rocks. This formed a very small rainbow, and so, I shot the image.

Except, between the exposure setting and the higher-contrast of slide film (this being Fuji Velvia F,) the rainbow effect didn’t register too well at all. I might have done a lot better with Fuji Astia, which has lower contrast and a more neutral color tone and saturation level, but this was what I had loaded at the time and I wasn’t switching rolls just for this frame. I mean, technically I could have, because I did it from time to time, rewinding mid-roll and marking the frame number that I’d reached on the film can, and then reloading it again later – the Canon Elan IIe and the EOS 3 were so precise in framing that this could easily take place without even a gap in the frame spacing, but usually I only did this when I would be shooting numerous shots of something that required a different palette, and I likely even thought the increased saturation of Velvia F would bring out the rainbow better. So much for that.

But the next frame was taken perhaps only a minute or so later (if not earlier.)

mountain runoff splashing on rocks
I also had the Canon Pro 90 IS with me, my first digital camera, and so shot the same subject with that, which did slightly better. The contrast and saturation settings were neutral, and I can tell this from the EXIF info, so the appearance is different, though bringing out the rainbow still requires boosting the saturation and curves a bit, and it still isn’t impressive. Ah well.

I did a lot of comparison shooting that weekend, still enamored with the vividness and detail of slide film (especially given the low resolution of the Pro 90) but interested in the versatility of digital. I haven’t shot any slides in quite a while now, more because of the difficulty and expense of getting it developed than in finding digital to be better, but they both have their strengths and weaknesses. I actually have a slide developing kit sitting on the shelf behind me, awaiting that time when I feel up to tackling this (conditions and temperatures have to be precise, the water has to be distilled, etc.) Someday it will happen, but it’ll be when there’s actually something worthwhile to shoot out there, and not drab and shitty conditions – spring ain’t here yet.

Token token token

Al Denelsbeck

For the sake of it, I did a few pictures today, and if you know anything about my writing style, you’ll notice that I did not say, “images” – this says something on its own. While signs of spring have been popping up here and there, indicating that the plants, at least, think it’s about time, we’re about to undergo a drastic drop in temperature tonight (like, down to about -7°c, and yes that’s a negative symbol) and they’re about to learn their lessons. That’s what you get for not having a brain stem.

About a week ago, I found several green treefrogs (Hyla cinerea) out in the evening, because it was warm enough, and I was trusting them to figure out that it wasn’t going to remain that way. However, today I found one submerged in a watering can which had to be around 5°c, and I knew the small amount of water would likely freeze solid tonight. I fished the frog out and popped it into the greenhouse, which has a heater to keep it above 12°.

green treefrog Hyla cinerea relocated to greenhouse
I know it has at least two companions in there, and plenty of hidey-holes, so it should be fine – much better than outside, anyway, and way better than a watering can. Meanwhile, another that I found in one of the downspouts is going to have to figure things out on its own.

The various plants in the greenhouse have been expressing their approval in the usual manner, and it’s closing in on summer to them I think. Most of the Japanese maples have already leafed out thoroughly, while the trumpet flowers are ready to take over. One of those did not get cut back at all last year because it never quite thrived, so we simply moved it into the greenhouse before the temperatures dropped too far, but the other two were completely cut back, as you’re supposed to, and are already becoming small trees.

greenhouse stuffed and thriving
So you know, it’s only a two-meter-square greenhouse, and I can walk upright down the center under the roof peak but not anywhere else. The big leaves to the left are from the uncut trumpet, which has now produced a flower bud, while the big leaves in lower center are from the cut ones – you can see two new ones sprouted from cuttings on the shelves in the back. The other things taking over from the left are two Japanese maples, with smaller ones down low to the right. While it might seem that my organizing skills need work, south is to the right, so the sunlight all comes in on that side during the winter, and the taller trees are positioned not to block it from the smaller plants, so there.

Let’s have a closer look at something down there.

Japanese maple leafing out like a bastard
Flanked by some of the sprouting flowers (violets?) that had started outdoors but got moved in just now due to the freeze warning, the centerpiece of the frame is some variety of Japanese maple that The Girlfriend got last year, something almost like a bonsai maple. It had the thickest canopy that I’ve seen any plant produce, literally impenetrable to the eye, while not being a meter high or wide. It’s been busting out this year.

Japanese maple in new leaf detail
I know that as they mature, these leaves are going to become a uniform, rich kelly green, so I wanted to record them now in this color variation. Unlike some of the other varieties, these did not turn a cool color in the fall, just becoming brown after hanging on for a long time, but their spring display (which we’re seeing for the first time) makes up for it.

[You may well be asking what varieties these all are, and I don’t know that off the top of my head – someplace around here we have the records, and I’ll have to dig them out sometime.]

In the chive planter outdoors, some moss has started invading, and I noticed in passing today that it appeared to be ‘seeding out,’ or whatever it is that moss does, so I did a few shots while the camera was in hand.

moss in 'seed' mode perhaps
Honestly, I don’t know how moss propagates, and I can’t be arsed to look it up, but I figure I’ll let you see it for yourself anyway. It was curious enough that I got out the reversed Sigma 28-105 for a detailed look.

'seed' pods of moss, maybe, I don't know
It had rained much earlier, but I don’t think that’s water on top, but the splitting outer ‘sheath.’ Whatever – just look. There are other places for the educational aspect.

I also noticed, in passing, that a squirrel (probably) had found one of the Chinese mantis egg cases that I’d placed.

squirrel damage
If you’re not seeing the egg cases, well, yeah, that’s the point: the little bastard had eaten it, or carried it away, leaving behind the string that I tied it to my support branch with. I probably should have put this up higher, but this prompted me to go around to all the others and treat the branches, above and below, with deer repellent. I don’t know if it’ll work, but it’s worth a try.

[This was a homebrewed recipe, by the way, found online, and it worked wonders for the deer last year. They were very fond of the ornamental sweet potato vines that we’d plant out front alongside the porch, considering it like candy, but an application of the repellent was enough to break them entirely of that habit. It washes away of course, and needs to be reapplied after a rain, but even when I was a bit slow in doing so, the deer were avoiding the plants after their first encounter, so it’s apparently rank enough to be memorable. I don’t know if it’s a bad thing for the mantis eggs, though, so I’m taking care not to apply it directly to them, just close enough to hopefully disgust the squirrels. It’s got garlic and hot sauce and oil soap in it, nothing too caustic I don’t think, but who knows what the oil soap would do?]

Several plants around the yard are showing their spring blooms, with one tree out back already past blooming and into seeding – these look like samaras so I’m pegging this as likely a maple of some kind but it was here when we got here and I never tried to identify it.

likely samaras seeds of some local variety of maple tree
Many of the former blossoms already litter the yard in places, and the rose bushes out front are kicking it too. My almond tree is leafing out enthusiastically, which is good to see after a couple of years of slow response.

almond tree leafing out
I just checked: it’s actually ten years old this year, so not too bad for something that started in a compost pile, though I kind of expected it to be a bit bigger by now – it still only stands a meter or so tall, though it’s branched out well enough. The big question, of course, is what is tonight’s freeze going to do to all of these early bloomers, which is why I spent a little time to go around and get a few pics. We’ll see. We’ll also see if I get motivated to do some more cold weather experiments tonight.

Just because, part 45

Al Denelsbeck

Some time back, I’d started noodling with a post idea and did a few slide scans to flesh it out, then never liked what I was producing and tossed it. But that gives us this slide, once again from a trip to Florida, representing the only image I think I have of ‘the Everglades.’

open channel in Everglades from airboat
I mean, I have plenty taken within, but no others of it – nothing that shows the broader landscape, as it were. This one was taken from an airboat ride, one of the many that you can find advertised as you go along Rt 41, otherwise known as the Tamiami Trail because 41 runs from Tampa, south along the west/gulf coast, that cuts across the northern edge of the Everglades over to Miami. It’s a local route rather than an interstate, so it’s dozens of times more interesting than I-75 further north. On a previous trip I’d gone out on a snorkeling excursion to the coral reef near Key Largo, and on this one I was debating whether I’d do so again or take an airboat ride. Key Largo was several hours away, and I’d never been on an airboat, so it won out, but I have to say it was unimpressive. I’m sure airboats are fun if you’re at the helm, but when you’re just a passenger and don’t come across anything interesting, well, I can’t be too enthusiastic about them.

Still, I liked the feel, the representative example of the vast swamp (even when it doesn’t look too big here,) and those stacked and layered clouds mimicking the treeline were cool. And then, interested in the subtleties of their textures, I converted it to greyscale.

open channel in Everglades from airboat, in greyscale
It took a little selectivity in the Curves function in GIMP to bring them out this way, but it’s making the most out of monochrome. Now, to me, it seems later in the day with a storm threatening, perhaps not the best time to follow any channels too far ahead. The clouds are no longer background but more dominant in the frame, almost palpable in their shapes, while the channel grasses are even more coarse-looking. This is not deceptive, either: we passed a little too close to some of the tall stands of grass on the airboat and they’re not good to encounter at speed.

By the way, if you’ve never done this, go check out the Everglades in Google Earth or Google Maps, just for the sake of it. The dearth of roads says a lot, but satellite view is plenty expressive.

Dittyday 6: The Motels

Al Denelsbeck

Just so you know, this one was brought to mind, and eventually found its way here, because of a lyrics quiz.*

The Motels are a band that barely escaped ‘one-hit wonder’ status in the early eighties, mostly by having two songs that became popular, but part of this was because these songs departed from their normal style; their other work, or at least everything that I found when I started checking them out more, just didn’t gel into the pop culture of the time. While they dropped into obscurity fairly quickly, just about everyone that listened to music in the eighties will recognize both songs, even if it’s with, “Oh, yeah – I haven’t heard this in a while.” Lead singer and guitarist Martha Davis has a strong, distinct voice, slightly haunting, and uses it to good effect in both of their hits. The members of the band are not what I would consider ‘accomplished’ musicians and their compositions are simplistic, but they use this very well to produce recognizable riffs and melodies, where the music stays with you just as much, if not more so, than the singing – it doesn’t take instrumental expertise to create a ‘hook.’ Both songs remain a bit formulaic, and brief, but they fill it out well and demonstrate a good knowledge of balanced instruments and counterpoint lyrics. Full credit to Davis: no transcript of lyrics is necessary to follow her. This is the better song, ‘Only the Lonely’ (from the album of the same name) released in 1982. And since this is the eighties, a saxophone serves as an integral part of the bridge, but as I’ve said before, this is many times better than the folk guitar trend that sprung up in the nineties. Meanwhile, since I’m the one bringing this to your attention, you know the bass forms a strong part of the melody.

Only the Lonely – The Motels

Their next hit isn’t as strong, and lyrically it’s vague and lackluster, though Davis still makes it work – you’re listening for the vocals, not really the story. It evokes the ‘end of summer’ vibe quite well, even when the reference to “last summer” seems to imply this was some time past rather than happening in the present. Again, fairly simple musically, and this time resorting to the over-sustained guitar riff that is used far too often, muddying up the actual notes and chords; this would have been much better with the effects toned down, but at least it only appears in the bridge. Given all that, it still has the ability to stay with you, the keyboard fills remaining behind in your head for a long time. This is ‘Suddenly Last Summer’ from 1983, off of the album Little Robbers.

Suddenly Last Summer – The Motels

Listening to some of their other work, you might find that the voice is recognizable, but not at all the style, and the broody and soulful lyricist has given way to someone a bit wilder, which is plainly visible in some of the videos of their work, especially live – Davis seems a little of a ham. I’d have to say I’m better with just the audio.

[A brief side note: While I’ve only included the audio in this post, the videos are easy to find if you’re so inclined, and the one for ‘Only the Lonely’ was directed by Russell Mulcahy, who’s been mentioned here before and, really, has done a shitload of music videos as well as several feature films. Once you’ve seen a few, you’ll start recognizing similarities and style. Music videos, especially in the early days, could be all over the place, but Mulcahy’s likely set a standard for those that followed, usually being quite elaborate productions with a great sense of place and mood.]

* “We kiss altogether wrong – no intention”

Visibly different, part 10

Al Denelsbeck

“So, Al,” you ask, eyeing me shrewdly, “why do so many of your initial Visibly Different images come from Florida? Is this, like, a thing with you?” But I scoff loudly, because it is no more a thing with me than holding imaginary conversations is. There are three reasons why comparison images start off from Florida, really. The first is, I took several annual trips to Florida in the early days of shooting slides, trying to build up my stock because publishers would not consider negative/print images, so a lot of early stuff reflects this. Second, Florida was (and remains) much, much better for producing subjects of interest than North Carolina, so by a significant margin, the ‘keepers’ that I have favor the state. And finally, I have a couple of binders full of negatives, but for obvious reasons these are harder to skim through and so I haven’t done it too often. But I hear you, and will remain aware of your concerns. Perhaps not responsive, but aware.

Anyway, this one, at least, is a negative, even when it’s from Florida:

small American alligator Alligator mississippiensis floating in hidden pool
This was my first wild alligator photo and dates from May, 1994. Friends and I were biking through JN ‘Ding’ Darling National Wildlife Refuge on Sanibel Island and, on a whim, I stopped to get a better look through some obscuring foliage at a small pool, delighted to find this American alligator (Alligator mississippiensis) just chillin’ therein. It’s a notably small one, probably a little over a meter in length, so hazardous to guinea pigs but not a lot else. Still, our travels up to that point had given me no opportunities to see any, so I was pleased with the find and really, the photo didn’t turn out too badly, even with the leaves trying to block the photo.

But I’ve had a few more opportunities since then.

American alligator Alligator mississippiensis lazing in Savannah National Wildlife Refuge, South Carolina
In fact, I possibly have a few hundred gator photos now, the vast majority of them wild subjects, but this one remains among my favorites. It dates from 2013 and isn’t a whole lot bigger than the specimen at top, but I was closer and using a longer lens. This was in the Savannah National Wildlife Refuge in South Carolina, but really, within spitting distance of Savannah, Georgia, and on the Savannah River that separates the two states anyway. The refuge can be brimming with alligators and remains the best place to see them in my experience, but on this date they weren’t quite as active. Still, this little guy allowed me to exploit an angle that made the most of the lighting and reflections from the water, and produced something more dramatic than a simple portrait (it actually serves as the background image on both of my tablets.) I was able to shoot from the other side of the head too, getting more direct sunlight on it, but for the mood and the contrast, this one wins easily. The largest difference in my knowledge and techniques between the two was simply working the subject, examining how may different ways it could be portrayed, and while the first didn’t really allow me the opportunity, I know I may not have taken it had it been present – it’s something that I picked up in the intervening years.

Something to note, however, is that in both images, hints of the submerged bodies can be made out under the surface if you look closely. They were both taken in swamps, but ones with significant water exchange so clearer than you might have imagined.

Meanwhile, North Carolina provides no such subjects, or at least, I’ve seen no evidence of them save for the two residents that hang out in the waters around the USS North Carolina out at Wilmington. This isn’t saying a lot, because giant prehistoric lizards don’t exist for most of the country, indeed most countries the world over, but the point is, I’m not finding anything even remotely compatible without serious traveling. NC does have hellbenders, surprisingly large salamanders out in the mountains, but they’re hard to find and have resisted my few attempts at spotting them, and locally, the largest lizards don’t even amount to the length of the heads of the two subjects above. The one below, an eastern fence lizard (Sceloporus undulatus,) is perhaps the largest that I’ve found and might be able to take a small mouse, measuring close to 5cm across the abdomen. Woo, scary.

eastern fence lizard Sceloporus undulatus in action pose

A brief comparison

Al Denelsbeck

Just a couple of pics while it’s still slow.

I finished up sorting the other day (which is going through the folder of recent images, discarding those that fail to pass muster, and then moving the keepers into appropriate folders to locate them again easily,) and as usual, I pulled out a couple as curiosities, these being both the same subject. We’ll start with January’s.

Chinese grape holly Mahonia lomariifolia flower spray bursting out from snow cover
Coming back from a brief visit to the neighborhood pond following the one snowstorm we received (so far) this year, I stopped to do a few frames of the ornamental Chinese grape holly (Mahonia lomariifolia) that decorates the sign for our housing development on the corner. The flowers had started early and their spikes were protruding from the snow cover rather fetchingly, I thought. This was already posted back then, and I’d forgotten that, so I’m just reposting it here again and not the slightly different version prepared just for this post. As I said, this is a comparison, and it dates from January 22nd.

Because here’s the same plant on February 3rd:

European honeybee Apis mellifera visiting flower of Chinese grape holly Mahonia lomariifolia in early February
During one of those warm spells, I’d gone up close in passing and realized that the European honeybees (Apis mellifera) had wasted no time in getting out and finding some nectar – quite impressive, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen them out so early. We’ve had several frosts since then, so they presumably went back in grumbling, and who knows if the flowers they pollinated would be viable through that? But hey – February honeybees, can’t knock that.

I’m not proud

Al Denelsbeck

The other day, I did finally get out to accomplish something, and successfully too, but I’m not really counting it as winter activity – I’ve definitely done better. The temperature got amazingly warm, and so I ventured out again in search of mantis egg cases (oothecas) to prime the property for spring. Of course, I had the camera equipment along, just in case, but subjects remained few and far between. I was out in some meadow/scrub land, looking for the tall stiff weeds or small saplings that the Chinese mantids prefer to place their eggs upon, which put me within hearing of a downy woodpecker, a red-shouldered hawk, a barred owl, and one of the accipiters – this was the only one that I caught a glimpse of, and it was only briefly as it flew deeper into the nearby forest, so I couldn’t tell if it was a sharp-shinned or Cooper’s hawk, but from the alarm call it was one of those.

The only thing that I did see, other than some boring sparrows, was a northern mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos,) which was spotted in a pile of pruned branches very close by and was disinclined to fly off, instead appearing very interested in the deeper shadows of the woodpile.

northern mockingbird Mimus polyglottos in woodpile
It did not appear to be an ideal spot for a nest, even if it’s the season, because the pile was too easily accessible to foxes and raccoons, but perhaps it was in search of materials, or I’d spooked it from a feeding spot. Either way, I did a few frames and let it be.

A little further on, examining the streambanks netted me this monster:

American bullfrog Lithobates catesbeianus basking on stream's edge
That’s an American bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus,) and a big one – larger than my fist. Credit to my stalking skills in even getting the image, because I managed to get the camera out while standing fairly close in plain sight, snapping off this one frame before some other hiker passed behind me and spooked the frog into the water. Slow movements count for a lot.

egg case ootheca of Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensisAnnnnddd that was about it, really – still not much going on, and no scenery to speak of. But I said I was successful, and I was, finally locating a spot that had an entire cluster of egg cases in a very small radius. These were all Chinese mantis (Tenodera sinensis) cases, and I’d been through quite a lot of territory before I found these curiously close together. I was also looking for Carolina mantis eggs, but saw none; they’re much smaller and more subtle, so much harder to spot at a distance, plus if I’m any judge, the populations locally are far lower. But the Chinese oothecas had me wondering, because I’d been in virtually identical areas and all I found were old examples, clearly at least a year old and in some cases much older. Then to find better than a half dozen all within spitting distance (my own – I don’t think mantids spit) had me considering, again, if adults return to the same location as they hatched to produce their new egg sacs. Mantids live out their entire life cycle within six to eight months, so there’s no chance of multiple egg cases, but is there an instinct to return to a successful site? I had the suspicion previously when a new ootheca appeared in almost the exact location as an old one here at home, and this cluster (in an area demonstrably devoid of other examples) strengthened that suspicion slightly.

I did a frame of this, by the way, because it illustrated something that I’ve never seen. Mantids are good about finding long-lasting weeds or small trees to place their sacs upon, something that won’t be knocked down in the winter storms, but this was the first I’d ever seen one use a cluster of thin reeds; there were plenty of other, better choices within a short distance too, but I won’t pretend to know the mind of a mantid. I collected six and brought them home, setting them up on natural ‘stakes’ in various prime locations to start watching in the next month – April to May seems to be the ideal time, but there’s a big spread in hatching dates. I’m suspicious that, as warm as it’s been this late winter, the hatchings will be early, but we’ll see what happens. This brings my total at Walkabout Estates to eight now, with only one being found here, though two of the recently collected ones are possibly old. And I’m on top of things with new seeds for the spring, including tomato seedlings already started and several things in the greenhouse, so I’m not being that lazy. Cardinal flowers are, as threatened, planned for this spring, and The Girlfriend and I will be going out to pick up some ginger lilies when the season is right – they seem to be a favorite of many species, not the least of which are the Carolina anoles. Getting there, getting there.

Down a notch

Al Denelsbeck

Man. I thought I was so slick…

So, one of the things that I’ve started doing again in my spare time is model kits. It’s something I used to do in my younger days and slowly got away from, then many of my materials dispersed. But I still had the interest, and a handful of kits awaiting my attention; part of the holdup was simply that I’ve gotten too particular about accuracy now, wanting to do it right and thus getting bogged down in detailing. Recently, though, I dug out a couple of kits (and purchased a couple of others) and started getting into it more as the photography subjects were scarce.

Presently, I’m working on a model of the ‘Special’ helicopter from Blue Thunder – don’t laugh, it’s a cool movie and a decent kit in a good scale (most aircraft are available in 1/48 and 1/72 scale, too small to do a lot with, but this one is 1/32.) And I tackled the cockpit with gusto, getting into the nitty-gritty of the instrument panels and even adding a video console that was missing from the kit, but visible in the ‘Behind the scenes’ stills from the movie – yes, this is the kind of thing avid builders do, hush. Pleased with how it came out, I did a few macro photos of the cockpit before final assembly, when it’d be much harder to see under the canopy glass. As I discovered before with one of my christmas projects, I really shouldn’t do this. Under the Mamiya macro lens and decent lighting, my detailing job leaves a lot to be desired.

detailed cockpit of Blue Thunder Monogram model kit
It may not look too bad here, but that’s because I’m not going in at full resolution. And won’t be. This is all you need to see. All the little spots where the paint overlapped the proper borders or the engraving looks shitty, they can remain indiscernible.

In my defense, this is pretty small – those blocks on the underlying mat are 1/2″ square (12mm,) making the entire cockpit just 7cm in length and the main instrument panel, top right, is 2.5cm (1″) wide – in other words, I could fit two of these on my smutphone face, and I have a smaller smutphone (I’m big enough to admit it.) Now you know why I don’t like smaller scales. And from an average viewing distance, it looks fine to me. That console towards the rear of the cockpit is entirely scratchbuilt, from sheet polystyrene, and so is the fire extinguisher.

But yeah, just… back behind the barriers, please.

Visibly different, part 9

Al Denelsbeck

I realized that, while many of the photos I have set aside for this topic are of birds and thus I was trying to space them out, so far I’ve only featured one bird for the topic, so I better start using some of them.

wood stork Mycteria americana shot through car window
This week, our opening image comes from Florida in September 1999, and is the first wood stork (Mycteria americana) photo that I obtained – I hadn’t even seen one on multiple earlier trips, except perhaps at too great a distance to identify. A little trivia: herons and egrets fly with neck retracted, all tucked in, so their shape in the air has a small point to the front with the legs trailing out behind, while wood storks fly with neck fully extended and appear as a cross – makes it easier to differentiate. That, and the black tips and trailing edges of the wings, very distinctive. I may not have known these at the time of this sighting though, so as I said, I might have seen one without being sure of it. Anyway, this one was near the roadside, and I pulled over and shot from the car out the passenger window, which is why there’s a dark grey blur across the bottom of the frame. I don’t recall trying to get out of the car and there are no further slides of it in the file pages, so either I never attempted, or I did and the bird flew off. I’ve known for decades that many species will ignore cars but immediately respond to someone getting out of one, and may simply not have tried. Or traffic might have prevented it. Or I was stupid. I don’t know.

Anyway, we now jump ahead nineteen years, to a trip to Jekyll Island, Georgia.

wood stork Mycteria americana in surf on Jekyll Island Georgia
Quite a bit closer now, and much more detailed, plus I have a whole gallery of images just of this individual alone. Little credit to the equipment; the first was probably shot with the Canon 75-300, the basic non-stabilized model, while the second was shot with the Canon 100-300 L, also unstabilized, but optically superior. The primary difference was just the opportunity: in Georgia, I was in an area where the stork knew it could snag easy meals from the surf conditions (and also possibly from the fisherfolk who were there for the same reason,) and so the birds were accustomed to closer encounters because of their greed, gluttony, sloth, and probably a few other deadly sins that nonetheless helped them survive quite well – funny that.

Yet, I like the color register of the first image far more, and I’m putting this down to the coloration of the individual rather than the difference between slide film and digital image. Just have to keep trying to get a combination of the detail of the latter and the colors of the former, I guess. And that means more trips south, because the species doesn’t appear here in central NC. But then again, I need little motivation to go further south – mostly just the opportunity.

1 … 89 90 91 92 93 … 318