Saturday, March 16, 2019

The Cascades are visible once again and now glowing after weeks of being shrouded in show. I couldn’t wait for their re-emergence to photograph them. It hardly matters that over the years I’ve photographed often the portion of that range visible from my property. Each time feels like a new venture, maybe because shifting weather and light affects the view. Maybe because the mountains seem magical.

The Oregon Cascade range is 260 miles long. The peaks most easily visible from my property are Mt. Bachelor, Broken Top, and the Three Sisters. On a clear day, while I might see more northward mountains, my usual captures from Bachelor to the Sisters take little effort. I’m fond anyway of these particular beauties, having covered on horseback many of their trails. Close observation increases their loveliness.

My favorite is Broken Top, a collapsed volcano. It sinks in the middle and demands attention. Wonderful trails cross-cross the mountain itself, and there’s a unique trail from Todd Lake to Green River that takes travelers next to Broken Top’s craggy profile.

Mountains fascinate, they’re so complex–on the one hand appearing permanent and stable, and on the other having the potential to blow, like Mt. St. Helens in 1980. The South Sister, a popular hiking mountain, is a rather-alive volcano, watched closely because it might erupt someday. I cross fingers that the peak won’t change for many years ahead. Its precarious nature is “the stuff” that generates folk songs and poems.

Once I tried to hike up the South Sister and this quickly proved too much. Some of my friends do make it to the top, and some climb regularly! I’m happy simply hearing how much effort is required to ascend and about the great views up there.

From my vantage point down by the barn, the South Sister is placed in a way that prevents my capturing all three Sisters at once. Photographed separately, the Middle and South Sisters create an image of musical-like symmetry.

Mt. Bachelor is the southernmost of Central Oregon’s Range and a popular skiing destination that helps to keep this area full of tourists. It’s also a gateway to the Cascades Lakes Highway, which provides access to numerous mountain lakes and trails.

Here’s a little local lore from Oregon’s Department of Transportation: “In the mid-1960s astronauts practiced along the Cascade Lakes Highway to prepare for Apollo missions to the Moon. In 1971, Astronaut Jim Irwin of the Apollo 15 mission placed an earth rock from a volcanic dome near Devil’s Lake on the lunar surface. It’s the only earth rock on the moon.”

The Cascades are fun!

Dear Friends, Geology is fascinating stuff both for learning and playing. Diana

Friday, March 15, 2019

The days are warming up into the high forties and I’m looking for spring’s early signs. Our streets are clear but landscapes remain buried under nearly two feet of snow, which daily melts a little and at night turns icy. Every property looks like the photo above where I spotted my favorite sign so far of spring returning.

The foreground brush housed a covey of quail. Upon seeing me, they flew straight up and away, down the middle of my photo and toward that space between two trees way in the background.

I hung out remaining very still and hoping they’d return, and so, was treated to the sight of more quail across the street. I turned and they hurried to escape, and still, no photos. Using my camera would have meant shooting straight into the sun, and changing my position would have frightened the birds more.

There’s no greenery aside from conifer limbs that are emerging from snow. I wandered home to look around for something that seemed like spring. This lovely Robin caught my eye.

The local birds regularly drink from my goats’ heated buckets. Admittedly, Robins are present year round, but they become more numerous in the summers. It’s also appealing to see that some snow in the goats’ area has melted.

Like “Desperately Seeking Susan”, I’m desperately seeking spring.

I let Max outside awhile and he followed me to the barn where he took up residence in his usual spot watching for mice. He’s a lousy mouser, not because he can’t catch them, for oh yes, he does. But because he tosses them around, gets tired and lets them loose, and those that still can, run to hide and resume their lives. Oh, Max!

I remembered having seen in a doctor’s office a lovely watercolor of a garden in France. I searched for the artist, finding neither her nor her painting, but became drawn to the idea of borrowing from the public domain a photo of wildflowers. These are abundant in our mountains during spring, and remind me of riding horseback and finding them massed in gorgeous welcomes.

And finally, for some reason, maybe because because I remember that French garden, here’s Peaches with one of his favorites. It’s associated to Europe and deeply green.

I’ll be working at Costco today and looking around there for signs of spring.

Dear Friends, Enjoy this day, let me know if you spot spring. Diana

Thursday, March 14, 2019

One of the coolest pieces of art in my neighborhood is this handmade bench above, with Peaches. It’s about a mile from my house on someone’s property and near the road. Passerbys can’t miss it, and I didn’t during a summer stroll with Peaches.

There’s a great deal of art out in the open and easy to see as one walks or drives around on the east (or “desert side”) of Bend. Some folks use ancient farming implements to decorate their properties, like this rake at my neighbor’s home.

Here’s another bench, a homemade folk art belonging to the memory care facility where my elder sister resides. It invites folks to sit and reflect, and visitors accompanied by their resident relatives often take advantage of it.

These photos were taken in summertime, and now, another season of sunlight is on its way. Starting today, I’ll be out with a camera to capture more local art. I’ll be seeking signs of the snow finally, really disappearing, and allowing the beauty beneath to sprout again.

Dear Readers, Have a great day. Diana

Wednesday, March 13, 2019

It’s impossible to ignore Peaches, a Citron Cockatoo, bred in captivity and imprinted on humans. He needs his person and that’s me. He makes sure that I listen, and so, snow or no snow, he gets playtime. Often we talk a walk outside, and in snowy weather, might visit the barn. Peaches is a noisy guy with screeches that frighten horses, so we confine ourselves to areas away from them.

Peaches loves the haystack, but his curiosity could lure him into a crevice. I’m vigilant and don’t let him wander beyond my reach.

He’s always the same, including inside the house. An out-of-cage playtime invites him to start seeking shadowy spots in which to dive and explore.

Sometimes, it’s easy for me to distract Peaches. One of his favorite toys is a cardboard box. I save the best for him and remove any tape and plastic. He’s on it!

He’s totally obsessive-compulsive and works hard, breaking the cardboard into matching pieces.

I watch and imagine myself gathering those pieces into a bag to market, say on Amazon, as a 1,000 piece puzzle designed by a bird. It might work!

Peaches who will turn fifteen this year is a very young Cockatoo. These birds can live for 75 years! He’s designed to destroy, with a hooked beak and an ability to focus that sometimes needs countering. During a playtime, I’ll let him carry on until he wears himself out and desires a relief of returning to his cage. If I must interrupt his playing early to re-cage him, sometimes he’s tempted by special foods.

He is smart, seductive, alert, and fun. He screams long warnings when he sees someone strange or unknown animals on the property; he insists on having one-on-one times with me; he offers occasional periods of hour-long nonsensical screams (woe to anyone trying to hear something on television); and his laughter, just like a human’s, always makes me laugh, too.

For Peaches, every day is sunny and full of possibilities.

My friends, Other species can teach us much about being alive and optimistic! Diana

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

I’ve always admired this breed. Wolfhounds are sight hounds, fast, very tough hunters, and gorgeous. These dogs might be fairly common in the eastern U.S. but here in the west are rare. Long ago, I lived in the midwest and knew a fellow who had a pair of Wolfhounds. Since then, I’ve seen this breed only televised in all-breed competitions.

Many years ago, while researching the work of an Oregon artist, Richard Murry, whose portraits of animals interested me, I discovered prints of his painting of a Russian Wolfhound. I purchased one, had it framed, and enjoyed it. A number of years later, I contacted the artist who said his original Wolfhound painting was available. Since then, it’s been hanging in my home.

Here in the west folks, including me, generally prefer herding style dogs. I’ve rescued several in the past and recently. They’re essential to me. And my secret self that’s touched by the power of art has me loving and sharing life with a dreamy, majestic Wolfhound.

Yesterday, I handed out food samples at Costco. When a lady paused with a big bag of dog food in her cart, I asked what kind of dog she has. She replied with a slight accent, “I have two Russian Wolfhounds here, and also, two others still in Russia.” That got a conversation going!

It amazes me when obscure dots stumble into connecting. Her Wolfhounds run on her 40 acres in Central Oregon, and also with her horses. She explained that her dogs still in Russia are champions and also public figures. I described Richard’s painting and will send her a photo. Meanwhile, maybe ahead, I’ll have an opportunity to see and photograph her dogs. Sighting live and active Wolfhounds in a natural setting would be a gift.

Dear Readers, The powers of the Universe may ultimately connect us all. Diana

Monday, March 11, 2019

Yesterday, another freezing-fog-day and very cold. I mostly stayed inside and near a blazing pellet stove, reading (The Secret History of Wonder Woman, Jill Lepore) and occasionally dozing. Several times, while forced outside to care for large animals and top-off bird feeders, I took a camera to capture images with eye appeal. Weeks of standing snow force creativity to spot photo ops.

I found myself in a couple inches of new snow. This time its texture and appearance seemed different. Soft mounds created a whipped cream environment, and like a little kid I kicked through, watching softness fly. Against the mounding whites of varying shades, other natural colors popped.

Small birds were busy on feeders.

Usually, while walking downhill, I assess the Cascades, stretched out beyond the barn, for a read on the weather. Sometimes the mountains are clear and beautiful, other times partly hidden by rain, or like yesterday, submerged in a freezing fog that hides their existence.

The birds sharing my property perch on and drink from the horses’ troughs. In this weather, they fluff-up to keep warm.

The uphill path from the barn to my house makes me grateful for snowblowers!

Once inside the house and trying to capture dog portraits, but mostly failing. Miles avoids a camera in his face, Ranger tries to climb into my lap, Louie is in a “raised-lip” growling mode, and so, as usual, here’s who loves cameras and always photographs perfectly.

Dear Friends, Wishing you a lovely day. Diana

Sunday, March 10, 2019

It’s exciting when our local Ravens emerge, becoming more visible and grabbing attention. These last few days, while outside refilling bird feeders and knocking down icicles, I’ve seen Ravens overhead flying rapidly in pairs or as singles. They’ll become more apparent after summer returns, and especially, when pairs begin teaching their fledglings. The young’uns will attend my horses’ water troughs, drinking from and dunking in eats to soften. Until the young birds are independently capable of catching prey, they’re often left to wait, perched on, or near, my horses’ troughs, while the parents hunt. One of the mature pair stays nearby watching over the youngsters while the other disappears to hunt over larger territory.

Juveniles beside water troughs are wonderful photo ops. In sunlight, Ravens glow majestically, appearing bold and confident. By moving carefully and very slowly, I can get close enough for good pictures. But there’s an invisible line that a watching parent won’t let me cross. In a heartbeat, the birds can be gone, although not too far, so the hunting parent easily finds them.

Ravens, with thousands of sounds are noisy, effective communicators over large distances. Yesterday, atop a tall juniper, a Raven was intent on making sure its mate heard and knew its location. Before each squawk, its body retracted and swelled mightily with air before creating the sounds that elongated and hollowed.

These Ravens, “my locals”, teach that Ravens with young aren’t to be messed with. Some pairs of Red Tailed Hawks reside in this neighborhood and often glide overhead while hunting. Sometimes, directly overhead, Ravens are chasing, threatening, and nearly cornering a terrified Red Tailed Hawk! Yesterday’s Raven, noticing my attentiveness and my pointing camera, paused in its screaming.

After taking several pictures, I began walking down the hill toward my barn. The Raven took off and flew–initially appearing on my right, before arching in a wide swoop to the left and then shifting west and heading away. I watched as the bird too quickly became a moving spot–off seeking prey or to link up with its mate.

Next week, when Central Oregon is supposed to warm up, I’ll be outside and on the lookout, eager to be entertained and enlightened by the Ravens. They’re amazing, intelligent, and always very noisy.

Dear Friends, Keep an eye on the sky, it offers so much to enjoy. Diana

Saturday, March 09, 2019

Way in the background of this photo Rosie stands beside her loafing shed, looking upward toward my car. I’ve just arrived, still am in the driver’s seat and photographing the “little story” that’s this statue. I’m captured often by snow’s beauty, its colors, textures, and forms. Now, I’ll add that snow is funny, like how it coats this donkey.

I had returned home from visiting my sister who at nearly 88 years of age and skinny as a rail remains alert, witty, and eccentric. We were discussing a shared experience from many years ago when she interrupted me and corrected my memory. I said she was wrong, and she denied it, sticking to her ground. It’s never made a lick of sense to argue with that stubborn woman, and she managed to make me doubt myself. I still wonder who’s version is accurate.

A couple of changes are noticeable. She’s less focused on the past, and for example, no longer determined to discover a way to get the heck out of Bend and back to her home in Arizona. She’s less compulsive about her appearance, no longer insisting on beauty creams and lipsticks, and unlike anytime in the past, has long hair. She always was, and despite the ravages of age, still is pretty.

I gather from her nurse and her social worker that my sister remains as manipulative as ever. She refuses examinations (aside from the briefest and most routine), medications (aside from the daily 5 pills that she understands and has accepted), and time-filling activities (videos, music recordings, books, writing materials), preferring for herself days and nights with Turner Classic Movies. Every person who’s ever come into contact with my sister has stories about her to tell, and I never hear anything new, that throughout my life, others haven’t already said about her.

As a sage would say, she is as she is.

BTW, early yesterday, I snapped a bird on a feeder through a screened window. A casual and potential throwaway, that became a cool little capture I like lots.

Dear Friends, Thanks for your interest and support for my sister and me. Diana

Friday, March 08, 201

The current Central Oregon winter breaks records for this calendar period over past years. We’ve experienced the most snow and coldest temperatures. One of this freezing winter’s many faces is sheer beauty. The photo above, which shows the west as viewed from my house on a hill, matches much, nearby and equally beautiful, that surrounds the house.

Deer have been coming through on the snow-blown paths I’ve created to walk through this property’s snow (average 24-30 inches deep). Yesterday, I improved wildlife’s opportunities to trespass, by snow-blowing a trail 150 feet long, from the barn to roadside. I needed it to pull a sled (its cargo, a large trash container) from the barn to a spot where the garbage company picks up refuse. Deer will use it to enter at the road and easily cross much of my property. I’ll see the tracks of animals that moved through overnight.

While snow requires work, it also has lovely-to-see long views and closer shapes that have tone and color. Its also dangerous, and to maintain our safety, snow requires alertness. Yesterday, a danger previously unrecognized by me became noticeable.

While pointing a camera, I heard a dull crash and looked around wondering what caused it. Suddenly, a big icicle broke loose, hit the ground noisily. I saw that icicles were leaking, some breaking off. The temperature, having reached the 40s, was too warm. I’ve not known previous winters to create huge icicles. Now, I moved away with new concerns about my dogs.

They exit and enter the house through a sliding door. Just outside it hangs a bank of large and sharp icicles. What if one or more broke off, to hit or stab an animal?

Multiple conditions of beauty and danger require work! No longer will I sit back and wait for freezing and potentially dangerous elements to disappear. Today, it’s supposed to snow more and freeze, but I’ll be outside swinging a long pole to break icicles!

Dear Friends, Winter, like toothache pain, forces us to “get into it”! Diana

Thursday, March 07, 2019

New snow fell yesterday, making me crazier, bringing unanticipated adventures, and renewing my sense of image richness.

After managing (again) to break my newest snowblower, a phone discussion with the repair guy helped me understand that it has a “broken drive belt”. Today he’ll bring a new belt, and cautioned me to avoid re-freezing my snowblower’s belt by removing all snow before setting aside the unit.

I turned to the “backup (barn) snowblower”, an older unit. I drove it uphill to re-establish a walkable path to my house, and then, on around to “do the driveway”. Finally, back at the barn and without hot water, I couldn’t remove snow sticking to the blower’s blades and its auger shaft. I needed a spot-heater, and so, departed to go shopping.

While driving along the busy highway that borders my neighborhood, I saw ahead a loose German Shepherd. It paused and then crossed the highway. A driver coming from the opposite direction stopped for it, and me, too. I turned and followed the dog down a side street, before parking and inviting the animal into my back seat. The dog accommodated nicely and waited while I asked a man nearby about it. He said the dog “belonges to someone (waving broadly) over there”. I decided who he might mean, drove back across the highway and to my own street, managed to make it up an unplowed, long driveway, got out and pounded, seemingly endlessly, on a door. Thankfully, someone was home, and the dog belonged to her.

After shopping, I brought home a Mr. Buddy Heater with accessories, and a few bags of not-needed-but-wanted-items, like a coffeepot and bird feeders. Today, I’ll experiment with the heater, to melt stubborn ice from both snowblowers.

Yesterday, I learned more while out giving the horses their evening feed. On a whim, I carried my big Canon Camera, heavy and hanging from my neck, instead of a little one easy to carry. After snapping and downloading the random photos, I saw impressive differences from those taken with my little camera and cell phone.

Photos in this morning’s blog are from the Canon. The lead photo shows weeds in the snow; the second captures distant fog and sky colors; and another here looks uphill at snow-laden junipers.

I’ve thought much about photography after transitioning to Word Press and starting to associate images to my writings. Yesterday’s random shots are reminders of how a complex camera reveals subtle colors and beauty.

Alongside snow’s elements of truth and beauty are others of harsh reality.

T’was a good day. The dog got home safely; I have a capable spot heater; the fix-it guy is coming; my Canon is da bomb; and on Saturday night some of us will turn back clocks.

Dear Friends, Soon, this season’s cold and snows will be history. Diana