Monday, September 06, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

According to Edith Widder, we humans live on a very watery planet but most know very little about the variety of animals that live in water.

She has a Ph.d in oceanography, has made a career of ocean-diving. Her studies have been explorations of deep-water luminescence. They’ve revealed that huge varieties of animals living in the deep create an amazing world of underwater light. Enough brightness, in fact, that even after turning off all the lights in her diving capsule, there’s enough natural underwater luminescence that Widder can see and read her instrument panels.

Her interest in light began in college days when a surgery that went wrong caused her to become temporarily blind. Her new reality, of having to cope among shifting shadows, encouraged her lifelong fascination with light.

She points out that there are a few land animals that produce luminescence. Lightening bugs are an example, but only rare luminescent producers don’t live in water. In the underwater environment, there’s light manufactured by thousands of creatures which becomes shed in fascinating ways.

She has been a ground-breaker. This compelling read tells her personal story, explains her professional discoveries.

I’m writing about BELOW THE EDGE OF DARKNESS, because it’s well-written and enlightens more of our larger world. Also, because it’s a modern style of autobiographical writing. My reading it came on the heels of having read Susan Simard’s, FINDING THE MOTHER TREE. Simard’s story, subtitled “Discovering the Wisdom of the Forest”, explains her figuring-out that the underground world of plants communicates and shares resources as vigorously as humans do in an overground world.

Widder introduces the key life experiences that made her want to dive and explore the deepest underwater worlds. Her story brings that “other world” more alive, makes the greatest ocean depths become more relevant to “dry ground we”.

Both women have made extraordinary scientific discoveries, and recently, each produced her own awesome biography. Each reveals life experiences and learning, they encourage we who appreciate creativity to cheer their newer “real pioneering”. Gathering, assimilating, and making information relevant to the world requires sheer determination, grit, and bravery.

Dear Friends: We’re into a new era, it’s modern, creative, enlightening, and let’s hope it lasts. Diana

Sunday, September 05, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

In the West continues this “burning season”:

Opening a door to outside smells like your deck is on fire.

Haze blocking distant landscape features turns faraway into “ongoing nowhere”.

Burning eyes are painful and undoubtedly more so nearer the Caldor and Dixie fires.

Water is scarce. During these historical lows less is allotted less and what’s used costs more. We wonder about the possibility of and how long it may take to recover enough of this precious resource.

Despite worries about resources and economics, we continue attempting to live normally.

Since my horses have new shoes, they’re again being hitched and driven. Now in action, it’s a little different. Each sneezes more, and periodically, Rosie leans forward and coughs. Hopefully the sneezes and coughs are because of smoke-filled air, not basic health issues.

Today begins as unusually smoky. Earlier, on opening a door to let the dogs outside, an immediate smell suggested the deck might be on fire. The atmosphere, widely murky, suggested a larger story of perhaps a new wildfire nearby.

Annually we’re hounded by wildfires and water shortages. This year seems more awful. One wonders, are conditions really worse? Or do they seem so because of communicating technologies that have improved, so that now, all together we’re “in the moment”.

Dear Friends: Other current severe climate factors are also compounding local impacts. Diana

Saturday, September 04, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

Good gravy, it’s Labor Day weekend. As a retiree, most often I’m barely aware that a weekend is beginning, much less a holiday one.

Anyway our Labor Day weekends somewhat are drowning, because of upcoming September 11th anniversaries, and this year more so for a couple of reasons. First, it’s the twentieth year after that holocaust, and second, twenty non-winning years of combat are touted as one justification for pulling America’s military from Afghanistan.

That this weekend is a holiday fades as we worry about situations in the Middle East. We hold our collective breath, hoping for the welfare of ordinary citizens, as the Taliban scrambles to organize and create some sort of leadership. Many Middle East countries have economics that are deplorable. Once viable, sparkling cities are suffering, they’re confronted with inadequate supplies of the most-basic necessities, like electricity, gasoline, medicines, and bread.

Labor Day weekends were a way to celebrate America’s vibrant economy, good enough that merchants could close doors and take a holiday. Our affluent country supported employment that allowed jobs and bargaining. America had the ability to process the goods needed by workers to sustain energy and families.

After twenty years in Afghanistan, and just as bad, a couple years coping with Covid and its mutations, this weekend feels less holiday-like. Most shops won’t close their doors. The big stores remain well-stocked but noticeably less so. Declining stocks are blamed on “broken supply chains” that make prices shoot upwards.

I’m finding that a local huge supermarket’s deli counter is being closed during many daylight hours. That market has advertised for deli help, which perhaps isn’t available. Maybe there are other economic reasons behind its non-service deli, but those closings seem odd.

Also seemingly odd is too few job applicants to fill open positions. Maybe so, but one problem might be that our technologies aren’t in step. Candidate searching has used artificial intelligence to review initial applications. AI zeroes in on key words and now maybe less accurately can spot for contemporary needs.

Still though, wishing for a “Happy Labor Day weekend”.

Dear Friends: What’s happening anywhere, sooner or later affects us all everywhere. Diana

Friday, September 03, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

It was thrilling to meet two world-class horses, both rescues, and now living with loving riders.

My farrier, Russ, comes to town regularly to work on some 20-25 horses. We who are accustomed to his work consider it the best. Russ was scheduled to trim and shoe a couple of horses nearby. I went to watch and meet them.

Ashley’s adoptee, a Dutch Warmblood named Avantos, is a 17-year-old, internationally-recognized champion jumper. Two or three years ago, Ashley learned he was available from a top jumper-trainer. Avantos’s hooves were in very poor condition for various reasons. The horse barely could walk, much less jump.

On learning that Aventos was being retired, needing a new home, Ashley asked Russ to evaluate if he could correct the hooves enough to make Aventos again rideable, at least on trails. Russ said yes and has done so. This summer, in a first Ashley and Avantos entered Bend’s High Desert Jumping Classic. The horse jumped effortlessly and placed high!

Russ, while working my horses, has told me about repairs to Avantos’s hoofs, and how Ashley has begun working with a jumping trainer. I went to meet this horse, he’s drop-dead gorgeous–tall at something like 16+ hands, has a body lean and fit, and gorgeous long legs. Even my novice quick glance could identify that born jumper.

Russ’s knowledge and efforts are maintaining Aventos’s hooves. Ashley explained that it’s all-day work to shoe Aventos. That’s anyway how Russ works, he’s careful and determined to achieve desired results. Ashley is thrilled and again is entered to compete with Avantos, in an upcoming California show.

My phone couldn’t capture a good-enough whole body of Avantos, but here’s a nice image.

In that barn, I met Chiver, another world-famous rescued athlete, a 22-year-old dressage/jumper belonging to Ashley’s friend, Kelly. Chiver had developed a small cloud in one eye that hindered his ability to assess jumps and needed a new home. Kelly has been as thrilled with Chiver as Ashley with Avantos. Together they are redeveloping these horses, and Russ is their hoof expert.

Chiver is another giant at 16+ hands. He’s muscular and stocky, and a breed new to me–a Belgian Warmblood Sport Horse, called a Zangersheid. His full name is ChevisZ to identify his bloodline. His hooves seen about the size of dinner-plates.

When I met Chiver, he was being harnessed. Kelly was going to work him in dressage. I tagged along to see this magnificent-looking horse in action.

And wasn’t disappointed. The big guy seemed light as a feather, like poetry in motion.

I understand the excitement of renewing a horse’s athleticism, and simultaneously, discovering in oneself an ongoing eagerness to work better with and learn from a horse. This excitement of such two-way learning experiences is knitted into my years with Sunni and Rosie.

It’s a joy, meeting like-minded horse-folks who’ve found opportunities to interact seriously with proven world-class animals. These adopters understand that re-developing a horse’s natural abilities also enhances their own skill levels.

Dear Friends: We made a down-to-earth plan, to team-up soon and go trail-riding in the forest. Diana

Thursday, September 02, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

This charming moment captures a rider and pony both asleep during a horse show. I haven’t permission to use this image which popped into my Facebook feed. No telling who captured the original, or when and where it occurred.

It reminds me of delightful moments in past years at Central Oregon’s High Desert Classic Horse Show, an annual event that’s huge, crowded with horses and riders. Few sights are cuter than small kids in formal riding garb on their ponies. Somewhere are images from my camera that I can’t find, so, “borrowing” this one.

Yesterday, our farrier arrived to pull and replace worn and broken horseshoes. A California person, he comes here to work for a few days every five or six weeks. My horses without usable shoes were bored having just to hang around a couple of weeks. My job was to keep each entertained while the farrier worked.

He works in an old-fashioned method. His truck has a furnace that heats iron, before each shoe goes onto an anvil for pounding into shape. He’s back and forth from anvil to horse, for each shoe checking and adjusting fit. My horses usually travel on pavement, so he also forms and fits shock-absorbing pads between the shoes and hooves.

His visits are nearly all-day process, the shoeing always has lasted through the five or six weeks between his visits. This time is the first that the shoes thinned enough to break and be thrown. Maybe it’s a supply chain problem, with less-quality iron being used in manufacturing.

With the horses now ready for action, they’ll be rationed increased feed. They’ll like that, but best of all will love traveling across the road, to John’s place, and again being allowed to graze on summer pasture.

Dear Friends: For a trusting kid on a good pony, often it’s the beginning of a lifelong passion. Diana

Wednesday, September 01, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

It’s definitely Fall. Chillier and noisier.

Before my Jersey Giant Rooster crowed and awakened the local area, earlier this morning we were visited by coyotes. While roaming on my property, they announced themselves with short screams before disappearing.

My dogs, all inside the house, noisily carried on for what seemed forever. They couldn’t be outside for another half-hour when likely the coyotes would be gone. The dogs found lingering scents while finally outside and renewed their barking.

I awakened to screamy coyote yips with a scary thought of my young chickens as coyote bait. Quickly though, I realized the animals weren’t hunting my chickens but just passing through. Coyotes scream to communicate, keep the pack together. A first short outburst outside my house was answered in seconds by a noisier outburst down the road. I estimated two animals were traveling and hunting.

In years past, bunches of coyotes visited during nighttime hunts. Over to the east is a large BLM, and north is a large expanse for growing hay. This side of town remains a bit rural with big grassy spaces inhabited by small critters that coyotes typically hunt.

Cooler weather brings out more wild ones. I toss seeds for the chipmunk population busily gathering and storing. Explosions of small beings invite more raptors, flying lower and circling over unusual places, like my property (always when I’ve no camera).

I wonder why it feels so important to keep my cat, Max, inside. It protects little wild ones but won’t save them from other predator types. I guess it’s one way of limiting outright opportunity. Max hangs out laying in my garden. When something alive pops within distance of a paw stretch, he’s simply grabs and gets. In contrast, those searching in roaming packs or flying overhead must work harder for victims.

Dear Friends: What more of the “old normal” will reappear in this developing cooler season? Diana

Tuesday, August 31, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

It’s a boy!

One of my seven young babies crows.

I previously tried living with two bantam roosters, attackers whenever I entered their vicinity. They were among a dozen babies that came home with me years ago. Among that group, the most beautiful chick was soft-feathered and shiny black. I named her Pansy. I was devastated on hearing Pansy’s first squawked crows. Finally, Pansy began to breed and became my awful attacker.

The other bantam boy stayed sweet, wasn’t at all aggressive, until after Pansy had been re-homed. Once the second rooster became a breeder, his behavior toward me rotted completely.

Attacking roosters really can use their spurs! They fly onto a human leg while digging-in with incredibly painful grabbers. They hold on, forcing a pitiful human to fight back.

I hoped to deter Pansy, by carrying into the chicken area a spray bottle with water. Sprays didn’t deter him. In fact, it turned out that both roosters loved being sprayed. They attacked anyway.

My surprise-boy is a “Jersey Giant”. Hens of this breed grow to about ten pounds, twice the size of average egg-layers. I understand that Jersey Giant boys will reach thirteen pounds.

He’s been crowing for a month. Big, noisy, drawn-out wake-up calls. First-rounds occur at five a.m. or thereabouts. My first hope, maybe it’s a hen that happens to crow, not altogether unusual. Well, she’d be a gay hen, because although too young to breed, this chicken is interested in the girls. They still brush him off.

That’ll change as the hens near a laying age and Jersey’s advances become firmer while taking charge of the flock. Meanwhile, I’m keeping an eye on his still-undeveloped “spur area”. His attitude toward me is standoffish and not unfriendly.

My research suggests the Jersey Giant roosters remain sweet and gentle toward humans. I’m counting on that.

I’ll add about this bird, his absolutely beautiful “chicken eyes”. They’re not pinpoints but fill their sockets. Eye contacts with him are very cool.

Dear Friends: Roosters caring for flocks watch for and fearlessly confront potential threats. Diana

Monday, August 30, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

Finally, I got it, that capturing a sunset from my property means being with a camera and in place fifteen minutes before the official sunset time. That’s because my line of sight includes the Cascade Mountain Range, behind which the sun disappears earlier than it lowers to the horizon.

I knew this, but only yesterday focused on it. A reality that suddenly became conscious.

The sky was alight, and the sun was beginning to drop and would lower among cloud layers. The atmosphere was smoky, affecting the sunlight and its reflections. I wanted to capture both the setting and sky colors. My watch indicated there was plenty of time, but the darkening mountains called for hurrying.

Suddenly, I got it, about earlier timing of the event. I went for a camera.

As to the sun, my camera can’t pick up enough of its color. Actually, it closely matches surrounding reds.

My camera finds it more pinkish than red. Here dropping through one cloud, it’s about to enter another.

Passing through that cloud and into a final one, just above the Cascades.

Last sight, the sun is settling behind the Middle and South Sisters.

This summer, we’ve witnessed many similar events. Each sunset has been amazing.

The heavy atmospheric smoke interrupts natural lighting. That makes it possible to look directly at the sun without being blinded. Happily, a camera lens safely can be pointed at the sun.

I say, “Grab gold when you can!” These unusual, double wammy sunsets have yielded opportunities to make unique captures. Equally fun, have provided opportunities to play with photography.

Dear Friends: It’ll help, in capturing a series similar and relatively-slow, to use a tripod. Diana

Sunday, August 29, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

This morning’s sunrise wasn’t the only beautiful sky sight. In the final moments of yesterday’s daylight, I scrambled for a camera to catch the sun just setting behind the Middle and North Sisters Mountains.

The camera had been laying nearby, because earlier the sky had delivered an exciting sight happening my way. Here’s a Red-Tailed Hawk staring at something that soon would become its capture.

Birds have incredible eyesight. This one, parked high and several hundred yards distant, saw me and my pointed camera. Several minutes afterwards, it lifted, and then while lowering flew in the direction it had been watching.

Below-sky, too, is great. Here’s my barn’s wild resident.

And the horses, each of which having lost a shoe must await the farrier, and completely is bored.

Dear Friends: A handy camera memorializes in-the-moment visions, and feelings. Diana

Saturday, August 28, 2021 —(On September 20, the full moon, “Harvest”, will rise nearest to earth.)

I’m sipping from a cup containing 2X-caffeine, by Starbucks. It helps me wade through news of America’s winding-down hours in Afghanistan. Bloody awful stuff, referring not to caffeine, but to what’s occurring or could happen in the Middle East.

I remember as a little kid in the fifth or sixth grade, hearing my “geography” teacher talking about the Middle or Far East. I wondered, what’s the difference? Finding an answer didn’t seem important for many years. The question renewed on September 11, 2001.

Kids today and in the future will examine history differently.

For example, there’s a deadline for America’s withdrawal from Afghanistan, set exactly twenty years after the Twin Towers Bombings. This suggests a “connected flow” of distinct activities.

Instead of having to learn separate incidences, kids will learn a parenthesis of activities bound by dates. An entire flow will be captured as the years between 2001 and 2021, as an awfulness of horrors, summarizing the attack and civilian death, the war and combat-failure, and an entire world of comprehension with overwhelming sadness.

I remember learning about WWII in a series of separate large incidents. There was a bombing of Pearl Harbor. There were radio reports of battle engagements and incidents. There were speeches broadcast from America’s President. There’s a date on which war officially ended. There’s an afterwards, too, when America dropped atomic bombs on Japanese cities.

Past learning of history meant organizing and memorizing unique incidents. In the future, a parentheses will capture activities and be bookmarked by the dates of beginning and ending (if “endings” still seem possible).

Dear Friends: Mornings might be improved by avoiding a double caffeine with the news. Diana