Wind whipping the banana trees to a blur.
Blustery
Wind whipping the banana trees to a blur.
Hurricane Weather
Housebound for days, we took a break to see a movie in town. Spitting rain and blowing. Not many people out with the storm moving up from the big drama further south.
It’s migration season. On the way there, a young red tail hawk landed on the fence around a small patch of weedy rubble. Surrounded by traffic several football fields of asphalt parking lots, it paid me little mind. I stood about 8 feet away for several minutes watching as it watched the ground intently.
Maybe getting down out of the wind, but this is also where any four legged critter looking for cover would hide. Smart bird.
Evening Palette
Almost Equinox ~ Milky Way
Just a few nights before the Autumn Equinox, and the official end of summer.
You may need a good monitor to appreciate these photos, taken on a moonless night. Planets roll along the ecliptic, meteors streak across the steady plodding paths of satellites.
The clouds that mark the center of the galaxy make a winding river through a valley of stars. Deep in the center is the black hole heart of the Milky Way, weaving destiny out of dust.
Somehow, science makes the wonders even more wonderful than the mystery of it all.
Mobjack Marsh Catting
T and I tagged on to the last couple of days Doug and his family were spending near Mathews on Mobjack Bay. Weather had been iffy all week, and didn’t look very promising for the weekend; but things cleared up after a few storms blew through.
Doug and I took his lovely Marsh Cat out on the last day, with low expectations. If nothing else, we could motor around for an hour and come back. But once we cleared the creek, there was a steady breeze blowing. It was enough to relieve some of the summer heat, and we ended up sailing for hours. So nice, we only came back when we got hungry and thirsty.
Shot a little video on the phones, as I was otherwise unprepared, but came out alright.
Eastern Screech Owls
A family of Screech Owls has been visiting the back yard every evening all week. They come in from the woods as the fireflies rise from the grass, that brief crepuscular window between dusk and dark.
There are two adults and three fledglings. They are fearless. With full faith in their camouflage, which makes them nearly invisible, and pay me no mind as I stand nearby. They swoop overhead to low hanging branches, dive into the grass just a few feet away, then fly back up to feed whatever they’ve caught to the hungry youngsters. Sometimes so close I feel the wind from their wings.
I almost didn’t notice them. There is no sound when they fly. But sitting in the yard watching the fireflies, I kept seeing a random blur in my peripheral vision. It was only when the mockingbirds started raising a ruckus, mobbing something in a tree, that I went to investigate. I stared at the tree and saw nothing. Then one took flight and went over my head.
The name for these birds is a terrible disservice, and truly misleading. They don’t screech at all. There’s only a soft trilling as they chitter to each other. When one does call at night, it’s a musical mournful sound, more like a child lost in the woods, tired and weeping.
Day Lilies Wilding
