… or, the many moods of Blueberry. Blueberry the indigo bunting loves to strut and sing for the ladies. Here he his putting on his song and dance in the driveway on a gray morning. Taken 19 May 2017.
At the pond
All of spring’s greenery looks incredibly bright processed as IR. Taken 14 May 2017.
Evening bun
Our neighborhood bun enjoying some evening browsing in the backyard yesterday.
Moby peck
The big raucous pileated woodpeckers in our corner of the Ouachita Mountains have been the Moby Dick to my Ahab-ic photographic ambitions. For years, I’ve tried to capture a decent photo, but they’ve proven elusive, skittish and pretty good at hiding for something so large and loudly colored. But finally, FINALLY, one very vocal female lit in a tree this morning, not far from our living room window. And there she is.
Ghost leaf
Arkansas summer mornings give rise to interesting conditions, thanks to the high humidity and the difference in temperature between inside and outside. Condensation on the windows can be especially telling — as if Nature was deploying her own forensic technique to seek the whereabouts of creatures and things. On this July morning, this ghostly outline appeared on the glass — retracing the landing spot of some storm tossed leaf.
Over the edge
White marked tussock caterpillar peers over the edge of the hummingbird feeder into a two-story abyss. We have no idea how he got there. He did leave the hard way, walking off the edge. By the time we got down to the sidewalk — POOF — he had gone.
Season’s first ripe blackberry
The wild blackberries here on the mountain are a two-edged sword. The berries are delicious (especially when cooked into a cobbler with a lemon cornmeal crust), but the harvest is a thorny affair that often results in ripped sleeves, pierced digits and purple fingertips. Spotted the first few ripe ones yesterday.
(Drops head sheepishly) Yes. I ate them.
