Saturday, July 24, 2021 — (In 29 days, August’s full “Sturgeon” moon will rise nearest to earth.)

July’s “Thunder” or “Buck” moon was at its fullest in last night’s sky, and glorious to behold. My friend Susie and I have been chasing monthly fullest rising moons by driving east into the desert and searching for an unobstructed view of horizon. We enjoy seeing, appreciating, and photographing just-rising full moons.

An attraction to moon risings probably comes from primitive human needs for light, to interrupt darkness and bring a feeling of safety. While we wait to sight a new globe, we chat, and then grab cameras to capture a moon’s rising. Like kids we laugh, dance with cameras, and share a comforting sense that all seems right.

Regardless of how many social, economic, and technical changes impact human lives, our solar system consistently is dependable. Earth’s turnings relative to sun and moon are unchanging, and any month’s fullest moon, regardless of its various names, gloriously becomes visible and reassuring.

This month, we went out to shoot a day before the sun and moon would become enough aligned to reflect light and create color. This July’s rising full moon was a vision of pale beauty, uniquely ghost-like and magnetic.

We had parked and set up chairs in some farmer’s “trash field”. Our foreground had trashed implements, our middle ground had field and farm structures, and our distant horizon had a newly rising full moon.

That moon was ghostly and rising magnificently.

Until, finally…

We were in matching Moon Chaser jackets and dancing with cameras!

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Our “Thunder Moon” team” image that Susie has named, “Teeth and Moon”!

Dear Friends: Nature offers lots of cheap fun, and taking advantage of that always is the best! Diana

Friday, July 23, 2021 — (Tonight July’s full moon [“Thunder”] will rise at its fullest.)

My neighbor Frank captured this distant shot of me driving Rosie away from our properties. Thank you, Frank!

Yesterday, for the first time in two years, I drove both my horses, separately. During last year’s pandemic, I didn’t once hitch up. This week, for the first time, I looked for stored carriage parts and put them together. After assembling the unit, I began re-learning in real time how to harness a horse.

Each horse waited patiently while I fiddled with their harnesses, and even more patiently as I attempted to hitch their cart. A horse while being hitched must not move, not even slightly, as a driver arranges the rig’s position and secures the harnessing.

My Sunni is a champion, just ask her to stand still and she does. Rosie, while a more nervous type, knows the job and waited correctly.

Until now, like our driving equipment, both horses more or less have just hung around the last couple of years. They’re not in condition for the effort of driving. I surprised myself yesterday by deciding to give a go to driving each. Fortunately, both were wonderful. Each pulled our vehicle over a three-mile loop, and while tired from exercise remained spirited and willing.

They were rewarded with lots of extra, well-deserved hay.

I feel great in returning to driving mode. Secretly, I wondered if I’d remember how to harness and hitch. Maybe I’d need a refresher lesson? Anyway I tried, and as anticipated fumbled and made mistakes, but my knowing, patient, fabulous horses made success possible.

Alternating their exercises will increase strength. Today, the horses will mosey in the forest–easy and relaxing, and tomorrow again will be driven. They’ll also be exercised on long lines.

On another note, yesterday evening we moon-chasers, Susie and I, went east and photographed the rising full moon. That new moon wasn’t aligned with the sun, as tonight it will be, but uniquely was a very beautiful moon. Tomorrow, I’ll post our pictures and write about that moon.

Dear Friends: There are so many possibilities, to see, do, enjoy, and most of all appreciate. Diana

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