serenade II

Since posting the last shot of Mario (Lanza -for those of you old enough to remember), I caught him in the act:

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This, if nothing else, tells me that spring might eventually arrive. Not to mention that apple blossom about to bust open.

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Driving along the dike road, I caught this Mallard coming in for a landing.

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Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds, the ebb and flow of the tides, the folded bud ready for the spring. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature – the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter. 
Rachel Carson

serenade

Our sweet chirpy little white-crowned sparrow has returned with his cheery little song.

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Though men in their hundreds of thousands had tried their hardest to disfigure that little corner of the earth where they had crowded themselves together, paving the ground with stones so that nothing could grow, weeding out every blade of vegetation, filling the air with the fumes of coal and gas, cutting down trees and driving away every beast and every bird — spring, however, was still spring, even in the town. The sun shone warm, the grass, wherever it had not been scraped away, revived and showed green not only on the narrow strips of lawn on the boulevards but between the paving-stones as well, and the birches, the poplars and the wild cherry-trees were unfolding their sticky, fragrant leaves, and the swelling buds were bursting on the lime trees; the jackdaws, the sparrows and the pigeons were cheerfully getting their nests ready for the spring, and the flies, warmed by the sunshine, buzzed gaily along the walls. All were happy — plants, birds, insects and children. But grown-up people — adult men and women — never left off cheating and tormenting themselves and one another. It was not this spring morning which they considered sacred and important, not the beauty of God’s world, given to all creatures to enjoy — a beauty which inclines the heart to peace, to harmony and to love. No, what they considered sacred and important were their own devices for wielding power over each other. 
Leo Tolstoy, Resurrection

Out of the mist

Not entirely sure if this is Cape Arago, though I suspect that it’s actually Cape Blanco. I’m digging out of archives since I decided I’d let posting go for far too long while I’ve been sorting (still) and packing and painting. At least I can get my ‘fix’ of a visit to the coast from archives.

Blanco-8092Someday I’ll get to go back to hiking again. There does seem to be a faint light at the end of this tunnel.

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. 
Lao Tzu

Curry county

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Perhaps a bit of why I’m moving down to the deep south of Oregon….

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How could I resist?

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You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.
Oscar Wilde
dedicated to Andy man

a good look at Rupert

Finally caught some shots of Rupert, the Rufous hummingbird who seems to have taken up his position perched on the bracket holding the feeder. He’s ready to take on all comers.

I was very happy to catch the way his gorget changes color from flaming scarlet red to black depending on how the light hits it. Then again… there’s Bubba not looking at all happy about the intruder.

This is my wish for you: Comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, rainbows to follow the clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, sunsets to warm your heart, hugs when spirits sag, beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you can believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, Love to complete your life. 
Ralph Waldo Emerson

here comes another one…

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Humbug mountain exploding

As the storms start to ease off a tad, we’re getting some marvelous skies.

The comfort zone is a psychological state in which one feels familiar, safe, at ease, and secure. You never change your life until you step out of your comfort zone; change begins at the end of your comfort zone. 
Roy T. Bennett

where the storms come from

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I just love this sort of lighting… it looks a bit dark and foreboding, but then there’s those marvelous reflections of sun off the water. Never a dull moment. I’ll take it over screaming sunshine and a cloudless sky any day.

bubba-0262Bubba, scrunched up trying to keep warm about a week ago. The Rufous springtime invasion has started and the hummer wars have commenced. They are such fun to watch. I haven’t managed a good shot of the orange-red invaders yet, but hope to soon.

Oh yeah… and I have daffodils blooming already (at least for a week, or more)! Must be spring even though the storms continue. Perhaps not quite as severe as they have been. Oddly today the ground turned white from a hail storm that lasted maybe five minutes.

She turned to the sunlight
    And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
    “Winter is dead.”
A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

take a break…

This is some pretty wild violin… worth a click

if you’ve wondered…

I have had a few dear friends inquire, but I’m still alive and (mostly) well.

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This crazy winter has slowed us down somewhat with wave after wave of rain and wind, but compared to the rest of the country we’ve been truly lucky. Unfortunately the storms seem to be reflected inside my head with sinus and ear problems. I’ve done quite a bit of hibernating.

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Then there’s been this urge to start doing some serious weeding through the accumulation of clutter that seems to happen when one is settled in a place for any length of time. Hopefully the storms will start to recede and we can get on with this relocation.

I’ve tried to keep up with blogging, but for now it’s been sporadic though not entirely a lost cause. Hoping to be back in the groove again sometime in the near future.

When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too. 
Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

birds

It was wonderful to see some sun and apparently we weren’t the only ones out enjoying it.

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But first there were the days of snow (unusual for our area) when Bubba, our resident hummingbird, hunkered down waiting for that sunny day. I tried to help by putting out warmer sugar water since the stuff in the feeder had frozen overnight.

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We passed three juvenile bald eagles perched in the trees near the side of the road.

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This one seems to beg for a caption of “what are you looking at?”
The two other young eagles were hiding behind a thicket of branches, so hard to get a decent shot of them. We suspect the larger bird (in this shot) may have been one we watched being raised in the nest from two years ago. Last year’s pair didn’t pose as conveniently. They were in a location not far from the nest, so we’re pretty happy that all the birds we watched over so happily and anxiously seem to have made it into adolescence.

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I lucked out and had this kestrel hanging out on my side of the road. Better lighting in that direction didn’t hurt a it (for a change).

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Another “what are YOU looking at” pose. I’ve always loved these tiny little raptors because of the coloring and the simple fact that they’re just so darned cute! Finally caught a half decent shot of one. Doing a happy dance here.

The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained in sudden flight but, they while their companions slept, they were toiling upwards in the night.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Good Poems for Hard Times

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