From somewhere north
they arrive together
for the summer—lovin’ it.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Canadian Geese, Canadian Honkers, Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, water, weekly-photo-challenge, wildlife
Mid-San Joaquin summer,
you can set your watch
by cows coming off the pasture
to Valley Oaks at seven-thirty—
back out into the blazing sun
by noon, breezes off the green.
Not one gossipy complaint
among them, chewing cuds,
relishing the timeless shade.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged cows, Drought, Dry Creek, photographs, poetry, time, weather
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, weather, weekly-photo-challenge
During the past decade, the Great Blue Herons have become less tolerant of our presence, it seems, quicker to fly as we go about our normal routines of feeding and gathering cattle, or irrigating. In the 1950s, their rookery was in a stand of sycamores along Dry Creek, located a mile south of where we now live. It was not uncommon to ride beneath their rookery and not have them fly. The closest residence was three miles away.
Sometime in the 70s, they moved downstream two miles to another stand of sycamores along the creek between our irrigated pastures and closer to the recently abandoned gravel pits below Terminus Dam and Lake Kaweah. At that time, the Great Egrets began to appear on the ranch, but maintained their rookery elsewhere.
The Great Blues moved again in the mid-2000s to somewhere within the abandoned gravel pit area, about 100 acres of thick riparian at the confluence of Dry Creek and the Kaweah River, a ‘no-man’s land’ and home to deer and feral pigs, diverse raptors including Osprey, among other things.
I have encountered the heron above two or three times a week along the shore of our irrigation pond since spring. The comfortable space between us has decreased to about 100 yards now, down from 400 when our irrigating began. Whether thinking it was hidden in the cattails or getting used to me, this photograph with my Olympus point & shoot was closer longer.
Posted in Photographs
Tagged Dry Creek, Great Blue Heron, Kaweah River, photographs, water, White Egret
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, haiku, Hay, photographs, poetry, rain, weather, weekly-photo-challenge
I often wondered
why some old men
liked college kids
around, leaking
basic adventures
that felt full
and familiar
despite the times—
ageless naïveté
seasoned with passion
to pump the blood
into guffaws
and unsolicited
windies with a moral
learned the hard way.
I look back
to see them now
and myself
as a diversion
for old wrecks
just like me.
Too soon to count the summer dawns
remaining, like cattle bunched before the gate,
yet these leftovers of a Gulf monsoon
that invade my sky like dark ships
over the Sierras from where a scattered flotilla
waits for orders, may cloud the day—
steam instead of bake the inhabitants
of this canyon—leave a little crunch,
like vegetables, life for tomorrow.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Drought, Dry Creek, monsoonal flow, photographs, poetry, weather
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2014
Tagged Dry Creek, haiku, photographs, poetry, red sky, Venus, weekly-photo-challenge
While in the garden with the Olympus point & shoot last Saturday evening, I attempted some shots of bumblebees, at work on Robbin’s Cosmos, with its telephoto in a breeze. Most photographers know better.
Last evening on the deck with gin & tonics to assuage the 110° day, I brought the macro lens out. As we were talking, a bumblebee crashed into the back of Robbin’s head and landed on the table, seemingly overcome with heat,
only to come back to life and head for my glass.
Whether for the condensation or the coolness of the glass, or both, it was determined. With fading light, photographers understand my lack of depth of field, and the flash
that didn’t deter him a bit. After 15 or 20 minutes, I went back out to the Cosmos.
He was still busy on the glass when I returned.
Whether moisture or coolness, Robbin decided to let him have an ice cube from her glass.
Whereupon he spent another five minutes or so, until he had his fill, then stumbled off and collapsed. We thought we’d killed him.
But alas, he rallied, crawled across the table, fell off the edge onto our 2” x 6” deck, then crawled off between a crack—much better, we assume, for the experience.
Posted in Photographs
Tagged bumblebee, Dry Creek, G & T, garden, photographs, weather, wildlife