Morning

 

 

Early am fogHalf past sunrise.

The woodland mist around my house dissipates.

Damp dirt, pine, and wildflower fragrance tease my nose.

A light breeze brushes my face and the underbrush rustles.

Are forest dwellers changing shifts?

Or dryads winding down their overnight play?

Early morning fog

A lone mourning dove sings its sorrow.

I close my eyes and contemplate my mountain home.

Gentleness and wildness,

hospitality and hostility,

mythology and reality

all meld together.

I yearn to capture this moment, keep it forever.

Early morning fog

But I can only create a memory.

I sip my strong espresso.

Something stings my ankle. I set down my cup, swipe the culprit away, and scratch. It flies into my coffee.

I lift my camera, scan the bush through its lens.

I snap my photos and muse:

Can treetops touch the sky?

 

 

Silence Usurped

A chorus of crickets, katydids, and cicadas sweep along an unceasing, summer breeze. The internal resonance is ever-constant as ear-rending vibrations posit never-ending noise.

Mountain waves

Tinnitus drones me to sleep each night and accosts my consciousness each morning. And I yearn to hear a simple flash of a moment’s true silence.

 

 

Ice Crystals in the Sky

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Looked out my window this morning and saw the brilliant, crisscrossed sky.

It was zero degrees Fahrenheit.

Ice crystals.

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I threw my bathrobe over my flannel PJs, grabbed my camera, ran out onto my front porch, and shot these.

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A short time later, the temperature rose.

Radiant sky turned gray and cast a dismal shadow for the remainder of the day.

Snow is in the weather forecast for this evening.

California Condor

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The bird swooped into range  as I walked across the Navajo Bridge.
 I set my camera on it and started shooting. I had no idea what it was. Just that it was huge and I was mesmerized.

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I began clicking, rapid firing, following the bird wherever it went–high above me, below the bridge to the Colorado River, around and around, close to the canyon walls. The bird soared, dipped, and circled.

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I heard my husband behind me.

“Go, Jo,” he yelled. “It’s a condor.”

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I ignored his cheerleading and focused on the bird. I’d never seen a condor and I wasn’t sure that the creature now in my sights fit that definition. I knew only that I was invigorated, that it was beautiful, and that I had to capture it.

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I don’t know how long the bird stayed with me. Seemed a long time. It vanished as suddenly as it appeared. It wasn’t until I after I researched the introduction of California condors into the Grand Canyon and checked my photos with a credible birder that I realized the rarity of this sighting.

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The California condor (Tag #LO) in these photos is a young female. Raised at The Peregrine Fund’s World Center for Birds of Prey she was released into the wild in 2012.

And three years later, we met. What a gift!

Autumn in the Southern Adirondacks

Forests aglow in orange, red, and yellow.

Rivers and lakes run deep blue.

And nature’s showcased brilliance thrills.

Prospect Mt.

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Hudson River in Lake George Forest Preserve

Hudson

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Photos 1 & 2:      Views from the top of Prospect Mountain over looking Lake George in New York

Photos 3, 4, & 5   Views along New York’s Hudson River inside the Lake George Wild ForestHudson River Forest Preserve

[All photos by Joann Pensabene.

Camera: Nikon 7100.

Lens: VR18-105mmf/3.5-5.6G lens.]

The Last Hummingbird

Taking Aim Taking Aim

Hummingbirds guest at my home each spring and summer. Extraordinary beings. They announce themselves with a “bzzzz” produced by their flapping wings. They’re always hungry and I am a serious host: I lay them a fine table with some of their favorite foods. Hanging baskets of red, white and orange impatiens grace my front porch. Pots of purple and lavender flowering mallows stand in front of my house , and my back deck offers begonia, coleus, basil, and peppermint flowers for their pleasure.

Getting Closer Getting Closer

The birds visit several times a day, every day. They feed from the flowers and pollenate the plants and they don’t mind sharing an outdoor presence with me and my family and friends. Indeed, we and the hummers enjoy life together. The birds offer us wonder, serenity, and pleasure and we offer the hummers safety, calm, and quiet as they feed. It’s a remarkable relationship, one I haven’t experienced with any other wildlife. The birds show no anxiety around people, though they’re anti-social among their own species and tend toward territoriality. Thus it’s a fair guess that I see the same birds here each day. And that makes the experience personal and intimate.

Feeding at the Flowers Feeding at the Flowers

They arrive at my home, usually one at at time. They flutter around the plants and hover in midair as they devour the nectar inside each of the flowers. The birds don’t dally. As soon as they finish, they fly off in search of nourishment elsewhere, and in the case of the females, to feed their young.

Feasting on Nectar Feasting on Nectar

The bird feeding on the coleus flowers in these pictures is a female, ruby-throated hummingbird. Her neck and underbelly are white and her back is greenish. Her male counterpart is a more colorful, showier individual with an actual ruby-colored throat.  This lady is my last visitor for this season, I think. I haven’t seen her or any other hummers for days. So I’m honored that she allowed me to get within five feet of her to take these pictures.

Leaving the Scene Leaving the Scene

It’s migration time and as autumn closes in, plants that were nutritious and lush with leaves and flowers all summer are now spindly and withering.  The birds head to Mexico and Central America where they’ll feast at tropical  smorgasbords. They”ll be gone by the end of this month and I’ll start preparing for my own northeastern winter. As spring approaches, however, I’ll plan another floral table for the hummers return complete with all their favorites and perhaps, a few surprises.

Always Room for Improvement

Nikon camera and Sunpak Tripod taken with iPhone 5 by Joann Pensabene

Nikon camera and Sunpak Tripod taken with iPhone 5 by Joann Pensabene

Photography class at the Adirondack Folk School in Lake Luzerne tomorrow. And yes, I’m excited.

I’ve spent the past couple of months updating my photography equipment, reading the camera manual, and clicking practice shots here and there. Most in the auto focus mode.

I’m an amateur photographer and I hope to improve my skills. Nature is my subject. Tomorrow I’ll learn how best to apply camera to the outdoors and take photos that I’ll really be able to write about.

So, here’s my formulaic goal:

Writing + Photos + Positive Creative Energy = Quality Blog Posts

(at least as compared to what they’ve been since I started.)

Hey, I used to take x-rays for a living. I can do this.

Right?

Weeds and Wildflowers

Bluets

Bluets

Severe thunderstorms and heavy rain for the past five days.

More expected for another three.

Wild strawberry flowers

Wild strawberry flowers

Yet a bit of sunlight peeked through yesterday’s clouds

Veronica persica

Veronica persica

and I went for a walk in my woods and fields

Wild violets

Wild violets

where weeds and wildflowers perked up just long enough to pose for pictures and instill a small sense of peace.

Dandelion flower

Dandelion flower

Dandelion puffs

Dandelion puffs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(All photos taken with an IPhone by Joann Pensabene)