I stopped by the lake late yesterday afternoon. A juvenile little blue heron was searching for food along the shoreline. I sat next to a nearby tree and tracked him with my camera.
Juveniles are born white and gradually turn blue as they mature. This one knew what he was about. He caught three fish while I was there, which was about fifteen minutes.
In order to spot the prey, they snake their heads back and forth above the water, making the light work for them by illuminating the fish.
It’s supposed to rain later, so I hopped on the moped and rode around the neighborhood. I picked a road and followed it all the way to the end, then turned around and came straight back when I realized I was running low on gas. I didn’t want to run out when I didn’t know where the nearest station was. My timing was good, however.
I saw a squirrel perched on a couple of stacked rocks. He vanished when I went by him, but moments after I passed, he returned.
Excuse the ‘net phrasing in the title. Even I fall prey to that shit sometimes. 🙂
One of these you’ve seen before, , and I don’t think I’ve posted the second one here, but the third is new. It was part of the same series of photos, but at that time, I couldn’t come up with a way to process it to make it special. His back was turned, and he was rather farther away than the other two.
Yesterday, I took yet another look at it and decided to try something. I think it worked; the bright background colors set off his rich green and just seem to fit.
I’ll begin with the one you’re familiar with. I love his fierce expression and the way he’s planted in the water, like “Don’t fuck with me. I’ll wipe the floor with ya.”
During a break between edits, I processed some pictures. Let’s start with a tricolor heron. I recently picked up some new background textures and wanted to play with them.
When I was a kid, I’d sit on the swing in the backyard and sing for hours. It made me feel good.
My mother had a different reaction. “Maybe you shouldn’t do that.” When I asked her why, she said, “You’re singing songs meant for adults.”
Never occurred to me. I wasn’t listening to the words, I was enjoying the act of opening my mouth and belting out a song.
I was in choir in school, and after I graduated, I sang along with my records (vinyl, then cassette, CD, and finally MP3). People asked me to entertain at parties, I was so good, and I loved it.
I married at twenty-three and divorced five years later. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t sing. I mean this literally. I’d try, and nothing would happen. It was the weirdest thing I’d ever experienced. It was also kind of scary. Continue reading