Thursday, July 22, 2021 — (Tomorrow July’s full moon [“Thunder”] will rise at its fullest.)

I was sitting in the garden and enjoying an evening beer when I noticed Tag #55 strolling onto the property. She began to browse at a lower elevation, and for awhile didn’t notice my presence.

She’s still traveling alone, that’s unusual. I mostly see does in small groups and often being tagged by youngsters. I think breeding season might be approaching and could have to do with her wandering alone.

What else about #55 that’s unusual is her coat color. Neither grayish nor reddish, she’s more a buckskin and without distinctive markings, aside from an almost unnoticeable ear tag.

More, too, she seems confident, not particularly afraid of my presence. I’m certain she’d leap away if I walked toward her, but I don’t. I stay put and talk to the deer, while trying not to seem aggressive with my camera.

Because she visits, my plants aren’t flowered. They were but that’s over, and no flowers anymore this season. I consider shooing her away, but don’t because she seems special.

It’s illegal to feed or tame deer although many folks do. In past years, I’d set out deer feeding blocks but had to quit that. My dogs became crazy-noisy on seeing several deer show up and hang around munching. The deer are smart and on finding a dependable food source remember and return to it.

I’ll be interested in getting to know #55 a little more. Even at the cost of beautiful plants. Next year, I’ll replant. By then and knowing better which plants are most vulnerable, I’ll choose those least attractive to wild deer. My garden might wind up populated with fewer flowers, more shrubs.

Deer also eat shrubs, but overall leave a less noticeable interference with terrain beauty.

Dear Friends: Enjoying wild creatures might be one way of keeping humans “in the moment”. Diana

Wednesday, July 21, 2021 — (On Friday, this year’s July moon [“Thunder”] will rise at its fullest.)

That’s the new, still distant, full “Thunder” Moon in yesterday’s late nighttime sky.

Wandering through the house and closing doors for the evening, I glimpsed through a high window the moon, full and nesting among thickly-clustered, restless, moving clouds. An amazing night sighting of a beautiful busy sky with sliding clouds often nearly hiding the moon.

I was unprepared to see such exciting moon and sky action. My dogs were bewildered by seeing me racing around and searching for a “right camera”, and then running outside to find a “right spot”, to do shutter-clicking at “right times”.

Those moments were teachable. I realized that what excited me was an ability to view the moon differently. For months, my pal Susie and I have chased the fullest orbs, watched them rise above completely dark horizons. I used to be happy standing beside my house on a hill and capturing a pretty full moon.

By now, however, many times I’ve mightily been inspired by witnessing first risings and glimpsing welcome light, new and moody, ever-changing, and lifting through clouds. Those sightings have reshaped my visual expectations.

Last night from my hill, the combo of sky and moon truly was a “view of ‘Thunder'”. Those real-time moments of interaction with July’s full and appropriately named moon were very exciting.

Dear Friends: Every experience brings new learning, it’s fun and satisfying to puzzle out prizes. Diana

Tuesday, July 20, 2021 — (On this Friday, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)

I’ll be brief today because the farrier is coming early and the horses must be fed and ready. After he shoes them I’ll ready the driving cart. We’ll start again to drive. It’s been a couple of years since last the horses were hitched, but they know what to do. After some reminder practices in our fenced area, they’ll be good to go.

I plan to continue horseback riding as well as doing the driving. What’s left of this summer will keep me horse-busy.

A back-story is this year’s problem of less hay availability. Our very hot weather has reduced crop yields. Finding hay to carry my horses easily through another year is on the table. My usual supplier is groaning about too little yield to spread adequately among his customers. Thankfully, I might have enough stockpile to carry my horses through upcoming months, but it’ll be best to avoid getting near or at rock bottom.

So for today: it’ll be shoes, cart, and hay. Also, I’ll watch on Netflix the final episode of “Mr. Sunshine”, my third time viewing the fine series.

Dear Friends: Ahead, another beautiful day, and best, with reasonable temps below three-digits. Diana

Monday, July 18, 2021 — (In 4 days, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)

Here’s a photo of my baby chicks just before I re-opened an exit allowing them entrance to a larger fenced area that houses my old, still-thriving hen, Welsummer, and twin aging dwarf goats. I kept the babies separately from Welsummer for a long time, wanting them to grow into less easy victims for her annoyed attacking beak.

Recently, during a first-time meeting with Welsummer, the chicks adored her and rushing to say hello were met with a most evil “Get away!” Welsummer grabbed one skinny neck (of white bird, forefront in the photo). Thinking she was ending my baby, I chased Welsummer and tossed her angry self from the chick area.

How to integrate the bunch safely?

The chicks, not yet fully grown are big and healthy, will start laying in a month. They need freedom to roam wider and gain easy access to the coop’s feeders and nests.

Yesterday, they ventured out slowly and cautiously, one by one, until all were in the larger area. Excited! They pecked, squeaked, and moved grouped as one. On seeing them, Welsummer charged and I headed her off with warnings. The hen got it and after a couple of attempted attacks backed off, still grouching but staying away. The twins watching casually couldn’t have cared less about their new space-mates.

I hung around for an hour or so before retreating. The re-opened exit gate might as well have remained closed, for the chicks preferred returning to their area and huddling, while Welsummer stayed in hers.

This morning will reveal if anything’s changed. I’m hopeful all the chickens are alive. Including Welsummer, who at eleven years (mega-old for a domestic egg-layer), might have been stimulated to a point of stroke.

I love old Welsummer. She’s still beautiful, and friendly with me and the twins. Not wanting entirely to lose that old girl is why I acquired the babies. At first, I intended to have just a couple of little Welsummers, but became seduced by the cuteness and irresistability of tiny chickens. After lots of hand-wringing, I settled on having one baby Welsummer and six of other breeds. No mistake, too, for they’ve become a flock of friendly sweet birds.

Now, just need all of them safely to be together.

Dear Friends: Birds of all types are amazing creatures, smart, fun, and worth knowing well. Diana

Sunday, July 18, 2021 — (In 5 days, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)

Yesterday, my baby Robin visited out of the blue. After three weeks in my care it had gone out on its own, not even showing up on the day earlier. Suddenly, its sounds, little peeps with whistles, were a pleasant surprise. The baby was safe and thriving. I hardly recognized this bird, independent only a few days and still with baby spots, but resembling more a sleek efficient adult.

Baby hopped and followed as I watered plants, made its sounds in responses to my hellos. It stayed three or four feet away and and flew off if I reached for it. I left the bird alone and it hung around. Didn’t open its beak for food and seemed just to be saying hello.

After shutting off the water and walking toward the garage, the bird followed, and so, I paused to sit in a chair. We continued talking and as I watched the bird, it turned and hopped into in the yard’s wet area. It pecked around, suddenly removing a flower from a weed and eating it. A surprise, who knew Robins eat flowers? Could hunger be motivating this visit?

Curious, I went into the garage for a leftover tub of night crawlers and removed one with forceps. I took it outside, sat in a chair near the bird and danged the worm. Bird watched and didn’t seem interested. Unsure what else to do, I tossed the worm to the ground near the bird.

The bird attacked, treating the worm as if it were a snake, grabbing, dropping, and repeating time after time, until the worm no longer moved. Then the bird, that only days ago couldn’t down an entire night crawler, expertly lifted one end and sucked and consumed the creature.

As bird stood digesting, I wondered about those behaviors, and repeated my offering. With this brand new crawler, Robin again in the same focused way killed and wolfed. Now satisfied, bird flew off and landed in the wet area before disappearing under a big plant to hunt.

Dear Friends: Proving, that a mom of any kind tends to be an easy tap for a meal. Diana

Saturday, July 17, 2021 — (In 6 days, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)

Wildfires are blazing, the air is smoky, sunsets are gorgeous. All this recurs most summers, but this season’s unusually intense heat from global warming adds burden to wildfire fighting.

There are many ways fires can start in hot dry weather. Anything, from a lawn mower spark to parking a car with hot exhaust over dry brush, could initiate a blaze. We’re all aware, worried, and watering our surroundings to maintain damp environments.

Heat and burning are causing wild animals to migrate toward moisture. I’m seeing an unusual assortment of critters in my dampened slopes and garden areas. I’m not complaining, and in fact, keeping Maxwell, my killing-machine-cat, inside. The critters I don’t mind Max killing are mouse-types, which he ignores.

This year, I’ll let the visiting rock-chucks, bunnies, and others survive. It’s okay if my plants pay a price.

Yesterday, I was re-visited by a mule deer doe, Ear-tag #55. She’s young, in great condition, and beautiful. I saw her on my property a day earlier, but she quickly disappeared. Yesterday morning she appeared, grazing on my neighbor’s green pasture. By the afternoon, she was resting beside one of my outbuildings.

And later, she began moving through my slope and taking long pauses to munch on healthy sage plants. I watched from inside through a window, letting it happen and knowing she’d work on up to my planted garden. She did, and later I groaned on seeing the results. My most beautiful leafing plants and gorgeous flowers, cut off or disappeared.

This year, evidence of a deer’s visit doesn’t make me particularly angry. Now, I just shrug, as most plants quickly grow again, or simply can be replanted.

I’m fascinated by Tag #55. For one thing, it’s unusual to see a lone doe. This one especially is beautiful, her coat the color of wet sand. She appears confident, making me I wonder who tagged her and when. Is she completely wild or maybe a little tame?

Just random thoughts, as I’m inside trying to stay cool and hoping for firefighting success. Or as I’m outside watering the area to assist my safety and help the wild critters.

Dear Friends: It’ll be cooler today, in the high 80s, and fine for touring in a forest on horseback. Diana

Friday, July 16, 2021 — (In 7 days, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)

On these hot days not many activities can beat riding on horseback and following a forest trail.

The horses, dogs, and I have been out to find and explore obscure old trails winding through dense trees. Those old pathways beaten-in long ago, probably by horses, today are sustained by the hooves of wild roamers and seasonally-active on-foot hunters.

My dogs are arthritic to various degrees. I’ve been concerned about them accompanying horses on trails and over-exercising. A pleasant discovery has been that keeping the horses at a walk tends to keep my dogs at a walk and they’re not pushing themselves. Walking tours are fun enough, and they’re turning out to be less stressful for all.

Something interesting is my smallest dog, Louie, refusing to go on trails with his buddies. He starts out with the pack and totally disappears after about a hundred yards. Louie is about twelve years old, has spent most of his life running in front on horse trails. He’s a smart fellow who’s made a decision, and knows how to toss in the towel while refusing to be left home.

He’s a cute mini-Aussie, but kidnapping Louie wouldn’t be easy. He doesn’t enjoy being approached or handled by strangers, and his world-class stink-eye kills an outsider’s interest. So, while the rest of us choose to go, Louie chooses to be a rig guard.

These are weeks of transition. This season’s extremely hot weather has hindered my animals and me being out and on the go. Now finally, we’re getting back into a routine and that feels pretty good.

Especially, too, as our walking exercises are working out for the dogs. Plus, our Louie needn’t be left out.

Dear Friends: Time flies, and already summer is half-past, but much remains to do, to observe. Diana

Thursday, July 15, 2021 — (In 8 days, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)

It’s a challenge to photograph great and powerful sunsets in a manner that does real justice. This area’s smokey atmosphere from wildfires is producing ongoing spectacular settings. Last evening’s caught my eye as I finished with the horses.

I hurried into the house, grabbed a couple of cameras, and began hurrying from one side of the property to another. The sun’s brightness forced me to find a position allowing for non-blinding opportunities to shoot, thus protecting the lenses of camera and naked eye.

There surely are special camera lenses that enable shooting straight-into-sun. They’re not in my world, but I wished to record the alight entire globe with surrounding lights, and just before it set. At worst, I’d capture its afterglow, and nice, but not enough.

That setting circle hovering slightly over the mountainous horizon quickly was disappearing as I hurried from one watching spot to another. I repeated many steps in order to re-check the possibilities.

I couldn’t plan for a straight-on spectacular picture, because of needing to veil the sun’s brightness. An optimal on-the-spot solution was to find appropriate tree limbs. Big problem, because available limbs either obliterated light too much or tamped it too little.

This capture, taken moments before the header shot, actually is of more globe but doesn’t appear so, because brightness needed hiding. Thus, the sun already seems partly disappeared behind a horizon line.

While relatively happy with these pictures, I’ll attempt to rise better to the challenge of capturing really-good sunsets. I’ll prepare in advance for this evening’s, and maybe be able to capture a vision more stimulating of the sunlit dreaminess.

Dear Friends: It’s about an inborn love of light, and finding ways to be “Stomping At The Savoy”. Diana

Wednesday, July 14, 2021 — (In 9 days, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)

Yes, he/she still is “my baby”, well nowadays part-time. The now post-fledgling flies and hunts, and two or three times daily also swishes out of the air and lands at my feet for an easy meal from mom. I’m a pushover, stocking worms and small fruits, avoiding overfeeding, and enjoying our brief encounters, this wonderful opportunity to observe a Robin’s transition into full adulthood. This one’s breast still has spots but its becoming redder. At some point, baby’s visits will stop.

I’m not a passionate gardener but should be, because this season the bird’s needs have taught me. A journey began by my sense of the importance of keeping a garden area, and wet, so baby could learn to hunt. I expanded the wet property on east into a wild section. In time, too, for once the Robin had figured out that it could fly among tree branches, it began to explore and peck on the ground.

For me, the wet expanse has provided unexpected beauty. The little garden area alongside my house is planted with flowering bought items. East and among rocks are native plants, and a few revived leftovers from the former homeowner. Besides suddenly loving the east side of my house, I might revive a neglected weedy section on the west side.

Moreover, the east side invites critters that I’ve been missing. The bird population has increased. Lizards that anyway always are residents now are joined by chipmunks. The other day, I spotted a young Rockchuck (Marmot), which didn’t make me happy but its attraction to the environment makes sense.

Here’s a young visitor that although destructive is pleasing, for after all, what kid didn’t love Thumper!

Dear Friends: How an orphaned baby bird encouraged my routines and interests to expand. Diana

Tuesday, July 13, 2021 — (In 10 days, July’s fullest moon [“Thunder”] will rise.)

The header photo is a quick snap of the trail-area in which my horses, dogs, and I traveled yesterday. It’s a lovely, shady experience out among big trees. Heat loving wildflowers that have popped up offer captivating spots of color.

Our ride was a little longer than planned. Soon after we started, Rosie (the horse I rode) spotted a shining white side of a big truck, parked ahead about a hundred feet and directly on our trail. Rosie doesn’t like objects that didn’t belong, and instantly, she tried turning us around.

Correcting Rosie is too hard when also I’m holding the rope of our accompanying riderless horse (Sunni). Relatively helpless with my hands full, I let Rosie alter the route to our forest-trail destination.

So, my dogs instead of running two-to-three miles had to cover over four. Still, not too bad, as none began lagging or limping. Otherwise, everything was good in the air. Aside from the little visual bump, Rosie couldn’t have been better. Oddly, Sunni seemed easier to lead.

To clarify about leading Sunni, she’s always very willing and in good mood. She’s easy to lead, except for taking any opportunities to grab at grass. That makes Rosie envious, and I keep us all moving by working to keep Sunni moving.

Also, I count dogs. And, I listen for a big cowbell hanging from the halter of my donkey Pimmy. If there’s no distant clanging, we in the lead pause. The dogs hang out, the horses graze, and finally, Pimmy and her bell catch up.

Our ride was nice, and as we returned, I noticed far ahead a shine from the white slab. Wanting to avoid talkback from Rosie, I moved us toward that longer route.

That truck! Any other day, our ride could have been, as planned, only two-to-three miles, all in forest.

Dear Friends: Rosie’s right, it’s rude to park a motorized large vehicle on a popularly-used trail. Diana