Tuesday, June 04, 2019

These supporting baby bird photos, which aren’t clear and crisp, were taken as my fragile subject warmed-up beneath a red heat lamp. With only a feather or two on its tiny wings, maybe six-seven days old? Those feather bits helped save the fallen baby, for at first it was hard identifying what exactly squirmed around on the barn floor and against a wall. The active creature, about the size of a Jerusalem Beetle, forced me to look closely, and ah, feathers–voila!, a tiny bird.

For weeks, I’ve watched a Bluebird pair, annual visitors, fly in and out of the barn to build a nest, and recently begin feeding babies. That nest, in a ridiculous place, at least keeps babies safe from Maxwell, my cat. It’s high, atop a beam, and nestled into the tiny crevice where beam meets ceiling. The parents and I are mutually accepting. They keep a small distance, holding catches and waiting for me to leave the barn, before swooping in and up to feed noisy babies. They leave quickly, often through a rear exit, and the babies quiet immediately. Soon they return carrying more capture to a renewed and insistent chorus.

I looked up, reaffirming that the nest was too high to reach. Even on a ladder, the tiny crevice couldn’t accommodate my hand with a baby. I bent and lifted the bird, unable to stand on its own and very small, nearly lost in my hand. I moved it to a more visible spot on the barn floor and stepped outside to a distance to watch the parents and note that they found the baby. In my mind loomed Maxwell, who’d have to become an insider full-time, until this baby matured. Soon a parent flew into the barn, straight up to its nest as the babies squawked, and then, mom or pop flew out the back way. When another parent showed up, same process. Several times, they repeated this without noticing their floored baby.

Was that because baby wasn’t aware of its parent flying overhead and not responding noisily? Had it simply fallen from that high nest or been pushed out? Since it didn’t seem particularly weak or unhealthy, who knew, and more importantly, how might one save a nestling?

I picked up and tucked it into a small critter carrier, called and left messages on the “wild bird hotlines”, and went in search of something to feed an infant bird. I completed an entire “critter circle”, went to Wilco, Wild Bird, High Desert Feed, Petco, and SmartPet, returning home with a box of mealworms, refrigerated and dormant but alive.

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Using a forceps, I picked up a beetle, offered it, and baby’s mouth yawned large. Its jaws, receiving a poke, closed in acceptance and immediately reopened for more. After a couple beetles, and figuring the baby’s crop needed to process, I left it to finish my chores.

During the following hours, we repeated this feeding procedure frequently and successfully. The bird on hearing me approach lifted its head, opened its mouth, and noisily hollered, “Feed me, feed me!”, and then swallowed. The instant we finished, baby dropped its head and slept soundly.

Around 8:00 that evening a bird rescuer returned my call and we arranged to transfer the baby. Well, that’s my single baby Bluebird rescue, and now, aware that these lovely parents might not be alert enough, I’m watching their nest, keeping an eye on my barn floor, and also on Maxwell.

Dear Friends, hoping those babies may safely fledge from their tiny crevice nest. Diana

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Monday, June 03, 2019

After retiring, I acquired horses, while knowing little about them and simply wanting a horse. Skipping forward, after a few years of having older horses (they taught me to ride), I wanted a young horse. Having heard breed aficionados say Morgans are very dependable, I decided to find one–not modern high-stepping and fancy, but a foundation Morgan–the real deal–a horse with genes flowing from the likes of those that once carried Custer and his soldiers into battles.

A good choice and one well-proven over the nine years since bringing Sunni home, and the six years since adding her older sister Rosie. They’re “old style” full sisters with similar ways of working. They’ll do the job: go everywhere, climb mountains, ford rivers, and take care of a rider. Yet, they have different personalities, with Sunni easygoing, affable, unflappable, and Rosie, a “lead-mare type”, bossy and anxious. My still-novice skills find Sunni easy to work with, and Rosie often challenging.

Many retirees choose to ride fast and smooth, gaited horses. Years ago, when my back lost strength and made it difficult to ride a trotting or cantering horse, I settled on “horseback walks”. When those became boring I learned to drive a horse while also having Sunni trained for driving. True to her steady nature, Sunni safely hauls cart and me through our neighborhood’s three-mile loop. Rosie also is trained to drive, but I mostly confine working with her to our property. Since she can be skittish, I’ve hesitated driving her on neighborhood streets.

Rosie and I do practice, however, and after she drives on my property until almost weary, she pulls me to the front of my home at the end of a cul de sac, from which a quiet paved street extends a quarter mile. Although tired, Rosie is alert, walks the street slowly, ears erect, head hyper, and slightly jumpy at new sights (e.g., plaster bears guarding my driveway). After she’s seen everything, I ask for trotting over the now-familiar street section, and she does well. Such outings to the street have expanded her comfort with our quarter-mile and increased our combined confidence.

Yesterday, nearing the corner where we usually turn around, I asked her to continue forward, which put us onto a busier neighborhood street. Her head went high on uber-alert as she trotted forward, wavering between a side of the road and its middle, until with urging, back to the side. To my surprise, her forward trotting continued without running us into mailboxes or becoming frightening. Rosie stayed responsive to the reins, handled an oncoming jogger, and also a car coming toward and passing us.

Heading down our street toward home was exciting. My worrisome horse had handled the expanded neighborhood driving! Although we’d not been surprised by deer, bicyclists, or dogs, we had achieved a new level–and it’s another step toward my secret hope of someday driving the mares as a team.

This isn’t a story wholly about Rosie, it’s also about her collaborator. I can feel intimidated whenever she “seems so much horse”. I’ve worked to overcome this with help from our driving trainer who can handle any horse. Future work in the neighborhood to expand our territory will reveal better Rosie’s capabilities, and also strengthen my driving skills.

Dear Friends, it’s tiny incremental steps that lead to learning, accomplishing. Diana

Sunday, June 02, 2019

This year, the rains, winds, and chilly days have made it harder to comprehend that we’re nearly halfway through 2019. Can you believe, the summer solstice arrives on June 21. That brings our longest daylights, gets many of us feeling like it’s too short a spread before winter, clock turn-backs, and darker days.

We’re accustomed to solar transitions that affect natural light, but this year’s early months haven’t been so bright. Now in June, we with large animals find ourselves with a relatively short window to find hay, and have it delivered and stacked. And we with horses start feeling like ahead are too few playing-with-them months, prior to cold weather and snow.

I’m jumping ahead, for finally it’s become warm enough to skip the long underwear, and in fact, be courageous and wear t-shirts. During my part-time work at Costco, lots of summery-looking folks in shorts and flip-flops push past with shopping carts. It’s easy to spot people who have horses. They’re often sporting shirts or jackets with horsey themes, usually wearing worn jeans, solid-looking boots, and sometimes a cowboy hat. They’re kindred spirits, for I know that aside from the business of groceries, their thoughts are on such as hay, farriers, fencing, and mucking.

The other side of these worries is sheer pleasure. We’re at last in summer and despite its suddenness, have time ahead to enjoy our large animals. As well as our smaller ones, like dogs, and for example my own dog, Miles. He waits yearning for an opportunity to be let free, to run where the horses are hanging out and busily herd one or all of them.

Don’t worry, Miles, for in this summer will be other ways to make sure you and your buddies have lots of fun.

Dear Friends, the best way to cast off worries is to go on a trip, just flat leave ’em. Diana

Saturday, June 01, 2019

Yesterday began so pretty that the afternoon seemed a good time to take a walk with Peaches. Just as we stepped outdoors the rain began, but light enough to tempt me onward. The thing is, Peaches needs moisture to keep his feathers healthy. He gets daily spritzes, but nothing beats being in real dampness. As we walked down the street, the rain became heavier and finally forced us home. Soon as we were inside the rain, in typical Central Oregon fashion quit. So, with Peaches still on my shoulder, our outing resumed.

I intended to walk a mile and a half, following a route that almost daily my carriage horse takes me to maintain her strength and condition. During those cart rides, many small or almost hidden sights only momentarily catch my attention. Now today, I could look more closely, while walking with Peaches, and relish what our neighborhood offers.

For starters, scattered in this semi-desert environment are lovely pockets of plants. Thoughtful homeowners in creating them occasionally set some hardy beauties out beside the street for passers-by to enjoy.

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Some folks enjoy importing “yard art” or ancient farming equipment, often placing the historical implements close to their modern homes.

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And maybe best from my perspective are thoughtfully placed, under spreading trees and in quiet spaces, creative places, to sit and rest awhile, and to observe. The surrounding old trees, histories themselves, are full of birds and sounds.

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Walking Peaches in our lovely neighborhood nearly was as pleasant as driving Sunni through it. Now really special, with time to observe and immerse myself into the elements of old merged with new. Interestingly, maybe because of dampness and the unusual silence of weather keeping most people and pets inside, Peaches stood on my forearm quietly–didn’t even peep through our outing.

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Soon after arriving back home, Peaches thanked me for his adventure by destroying a handheld calculator that I lazily had left laying around. C’est la vie.

Dear Friends: Have a wonderful day. Diana

Friday, May 31, 2019

I happened to be about 100 feet away, and with a fast-action camera, while police personnel were training a Police dog. Those trained dogs are amazing creatures. They’re able to team with humans, to warn, protect, and sniff-out contraband. This in-training dog, a Shepherd type, wearing a “Police” vest, was learning to attack on command.

In these series of photos, the dog is practicing the capture of a weapon. It’s also being directed to capture multiple perpetrators (the target opponents wore heavily padded clothing).

Here the dog is instructed to go after a human’s weapon. It does so accurately and hangs on until ordered to release.

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The next time out, the dog is following instructions to capture two humans.

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This cool series reminds us how remarkable that since time immemorial, dogs and horses successfully have teamed with humans to perform tasks that would have been impossible for humans alone. These collaborative animals have helped humans eat better, move better, and have protection. Without their help, civilizations would have developed more slowly, and certainly, very differently.

Dear Friends: It’s a thrill to have uninvited photos of that event. Diana

Thursday, May 30, 2019

Whenever I cross the mountains to attend sessions with our driving trainer, I stop for a while to explore Sweet Home, an old community, or pause at its nearby Foster Lake. This lovely lake, which though popular often is quiet, greets drivers entering the community. Sighting it is an invite to a welcome respite after an hour of grappling with Tombstone Canyon’s narrow, twisty roads.

Foster Lake is an area with easy-entry and ample parking for a truck and horse trailer. It offers picnic tables for weary travelers and locals who have time to sit awhile in sunshine.

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It’s a beautiful spot in which to lose oneself. A walk along its banks means strolling alongside stretches of thick Blackberry bushes. Right right they’re heavy with baby berries, almost mouth-watering, but immature. According to my plant identification app, these correctly are “Armenian Blackberry” bushes.

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As if it’s not enough to hang out beside the lake itself, there’s a larger landscape with lots of opportunistic pop-ups. Among others, there are blackberry sprouts mingled with wildflowers. Here’s a closeup of one of the larger berry sprouts surrounded by tiny wildflowers, and beside it a generic closeup of those lil’ wildflowers

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While studying the field’s plants, I didn’t recall previously having seen the widespread pink wild flower, but of course, my phone app identified the little pinks as filaree. A bit more research revealed that filaree is an invasive plant, and a member of the geranium family–no wonder I liked it! Reportedly, filaree is one of the first flowers to appear after winter rains–and the Foster Lake area, west of the Cascades and near Oregon’s western side, receives many rains.

After checking on the horses and rewarding their patience over the long haul with chunks of banana, I took pictures. Afterward, I parked on a bench beside the shelter, munched on a turkey sandwich, and contemplated small waves.

It’s characteristic of bodies of water surrounded by flowering greenery to magically erase any worries and stresses we might bring to them. They offer a sense of “lost in this moment” that becomes everything meaningful.

Dear Readers, have a wonderful day. Diana

Wednesday, May 29, 2019

This is short and sweet as today I’m traveling over the mountains with horses for a training session. It’ll be much like last week’s. Rosie will circle on the long lines while we assess progress in strengthening her injured muscle. Sunni will be hitched and trotting in nearly-endless circles while I practice using the reins correctly to keep her balanced during our turns.

Yesterday was a transition in our weather. The day began looking sunny and bright, but by the time I left work was overcast and humid. Later, it started looking hopeful again. I was fascinated by the sky’s cloud activity.

Early on and for the first time in days, the mountains were visible. The clouds were interesting, low and active, creating nearly abstract, magical mountain- and air-scapes.

Here’s one of the mountains taken just a little later than the lead photo, still showing low clouds but with the sky less active.

During the day I took “sky photos” to capture differences in cloud formations. As the hours progressed, cumulus clouds gave way to a cirrus-like, heavy overcast.

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I’ve been complaining about seemingly unending rains, and yesterday’s sky gave me little reason to think today might be different (weather is on my mind when I contemplate driving over the mountains). To my delight, this morning has dawned clear and bright.

The horses were shocked to see me out so early and bringing their feed. Eat well, good ponies, for we’ve a long ride ahead.

Dear Friends, enjoy what appears to be a dry and beautiful day. Diana

Tuesday, May 29, 2019

Yes, another day of on and off rains, some pouring and daunting. The occasional sunshine was weak. I managed to exercise the horses and do some work around the barn. Toward evening, during a break in the rain, I ventured into the dim with a camera to consider the clouds and what they might be saying. The western clouds seemed confused but were clearing, and those toward the east were dark and intimidating.

While focusing on various skies, I began thinking about art photography. Now, friends, I’m the most amateur of photographers, don’t know a thing about f-stops and such, but my eye is fairly dependable. Wanting to take pictures in yet another cloudy, damp day, made thinking creatively a sensible choice. So, using what was most easily available, here’s my start at art.

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I rather like the outcomes from using a prop, and maybe it’s worth expanding to create innovative scenes. Meanwhile out there, and as usual in the background, lots of Robins were sounding off, noisy and defending. Since their uproars had been continuing for several evenings, I moved to another position to view the birds, and in a moment was witnessing territory arguments, with birds fluttering up, kicking out, and driving away offenders. Way up, a Robin stood stock-still and on guard, while on the ground its or some other bird’s mate gathered nesting material.

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The sky, the ball, the birds, in the last lights of that damp and cloudy day. If those captures don’t appropriately enough represent closure, check out this of Pimmy in mud, after one of yesterday’s early rains.

Dear Friends, I must work today and that’s okay, for more rain is forecast. Diana

Monday, May 27, 2019

My complaining yesterday morning about all the rains we’ve had didn’t do a bit of good, as for most of that day the wet stuff continued on and off. Plus, the sunless and chilly day made me unable to force myself outside to exercise the horses. Now, I struggle to remember what I did all day, before the approach of early evening when I finally ventured outside with two goals: (1) feed animals, and (2) take pictures with a new zoom lens to decide if it’s worth keeping.

Yesterday afternoon’s clouds were incredibly huge and pillowy clusters, but they mostly disappeared after a brief and intense rainstorm. By the time I wandered outside the sky had softened, with its remaining and still attractive clouds far less dramatic.

Whatever caused it–cloud action or rain activity–the Robins were different. Some stayed put in very visible positions, guarding their nests while singing communications and warnings. The pair that first caught my eye stayed locked in place for a surprisingly long while, during the ten minutes or so that I stood watching them.

While marveling at their beauty, I could hear another bird’s continuing calls from a distance. I decided to trek around the house, to its other side where there are other large trees, hoping to learn the kind of bird calling and maybe spotting it. Its sounds were rather like a Solitaire’s, but so had been the sounds of those two Robins. I was confused.

That noisy bird turned out to be–another Robin!–atop a tall juniper and highly visible. Perhaps it’s not so weird that Robins can sound somewhat like Solitaires, for the species are close relatives in the thrush family. I’ve become accustomed to listening to Robins, they’re among the noisiest and most communicative of birds, and of watching many as they hunt day after day. Yesterday, those normally busy birds seemed a little different, I’ll mostly attribute this to stormy weather.

Before ending my little journey in an early dim outside, I’ll post a capture that for some reason fascinates me enough to make a note of it.

Today is beginning like yesterday (moments ago, we had an intense brief rainstorm). I’ll plan to venture outside later, hopefully to find various conditions of natural lighting, and explore again with my trial lens. So far, it’s delivered beyond my expectations.

Dear Friends, Memorial Day is our group reminder of loved ones forever dear. Diana

Sunday, May 26, 2019

After yet another rainy night, here’s a shot of my equines holed up in their loafing shed during an early dry moment.

It’s begun to feel like I’m living in the Portland or Seattle areas instead of in Central Oregon’s high desert. This spring in my area has been the rainest during the near-fifteen years that I’ve lived in Central Oregon. By keeping abreast of predictions in The Old Farmer’s Almanac, I’d have been prepared for this May, which was expected to be rainier than normal and with cooler temperatures. In fact right now and still early this morning, rain again has begun tapping on my roof.

The Almanac adds reassuringly that the upcoming summer temperatures and rainfall will be “near normal”. This publication has been around, it seems to me, since time immemorial. What first struck me about the Almanac was that three years ago it predicted we’d have unusually huge snowfalls. And truly, we had some dozies! That’s when I decided to keep an eye on the publication, but alas, I forgot. Until the rains and now.

Of course, if we can see ahead that the Almanac predicts something like unusual spring rains, there’s nothing that can be done to change that potential. But at least we could be prepared mentally. We would know to avoid waking every morning, expecting to see sunshine because it’s May, and more realistically would know to anticipate the likelihood of a day of drear and clouds.

The daily pattern so far suggests we can look for breaks in the rain. In such a quiet period, I’ll be at the ready. I’ll dash out, get the horses exercised, note the wellness of my resident Bluebirds, and assess the widening spreads of weeds. At least on days like this, there’s no need to worry about house plants that can’t take much sunlight. They can be set outside beside the hardier plants for a healthy infusion of fresh air and moisture.

Dear Friends, have a lovely day. Diana