Last night, I was trying to fix my desktop computer. There was a time when I enjoyed doing that sort of thing. But after seeing so many systems of mine (and others) just stop working for no apparent reason, I got tired of it. But there comes a day in every person's life when they have to roll up the shirt sleeves and dig in. So there I was...staring at an add-on card, trying to figure out if I really needed it or not, when...BAMMM!! BASH!!!!
The sound came from the window next to my computer. Like a sober St. Nick, I leaped from cheap computer desk chair, lifted my Venetian blinds and peered out. But what to my normal, saline filled eyes did appear, but a steaming pick-up with its front-end smashed up. Its hood was raised in a salute to all, and a person staggered by, probably wondering what happened.
It was obvious to me. Someone driving very stupidly, ran into the rear end of my landlord's son's pick-up which was parked in front of the house where I rent a small, but livable space containing most of my earthly possessions. I slipped into my shoes and head out my door and there I came across Lacy running back and forth, scared to the point of almost ignoring me...which in and of itself, is very strange.
I did my best to calm her down in my normally, soothing, gentle voice (I know...don't laugh...I'm not called "Bear" for nothing) and headed around front. Just as I got there, things were heating up. I could hear a very upset voice near the truck which was hit, yelling something I won't repeat here. Under the shadowy, back light of the street light, I could see the rear-end of the that truck smashed in and a dog peering over the side. And I knew I wasn't needed. As I headed back in my place, I stopped and let Lacy loose. She followed me into my house (with a lot of coaxing) and went into her normal, "What's New...What's New" mode.
When tow trucks and cop cars began showing up outside, Lacy didn't pay any attention to them, or the noise they were making. She was exploring, looking for something new to eat, play with, check out, tear apart, or whatever it was she felt like doing to it at the time. Hopefully, she (the dog) became accustomed to those sounds and if some stupid driver hits the only vehicle parked on the side of the road in front of our place again, she won't be as scared as she was last night.
What happened last night was stupid. The driver of the lethal weapon pick-up simply let his attention span lapse for a split moment and something happened. Stupid, but it's not like none of us have ever done anything stupid while driving around. I know I have.
Just after I got my driver's license 40 year's ago (yes...back in the stone age), I took my sisters to a party or something at Bullfrog Lake in the Forest Preserves of the Chicago area where I lived. After dropping them off in the parking lot, I turned the car to make a U-turn and get out of the lot when I saw a young woman I had a crush on. I was halfway through the turn when I saw Vickie and stopped the turn as my eyes followed her as far as they could...well, I was abruptly reminded I was driving a car when an impact occurred. Snapping my head forward, I found myself looking up into the blue summer sky.
Confused, I went to get out of the car and realized the ground was much lower than normal...and the front end of the car a lot higher than normal. And then there was that three foot high cement wall the front left tire was sitting on. I squatted down to look and think things over and lit a cigarette. A few minutes later, someone appeared on top of the wall and asked if I had a jack. I did and we jacked up the front left side of the car sitting on top of that three foot high wall and when it was high enough, pushed the car off the jack. The car landed back on the parking lot surface, ready to drive away, the jack waiting to be put away next to the car.
I thanked the man on top of the wall, who said, "Don't be so stupid while driving a car," then he turned and walked off. I got in the car, started the engine, put it in drive and pressed the accelerator pedal. To my dismay, the car wanted to turn left on its own. I drove the 20 or so miles home, fretting every minute.
When I got there, I told my dad I hit something with the car and now it turned to the left. He asked what I hit and I said a chunk of cement in my path. I didn't tell him it was a three foot high wall, nor did I mention how the car was put back on the driving surface. When he went out to see the damage, there was none on the bumper or the fender, but when you looked at the car from the front, you could see the left wheel was toed outward.
That was the first accident I was involved in. But it wasn't the last time I stared at a fine woman walking by where I was driving. Try not to do it while driving along the nude beaches of the French Riviera.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Typos? What Typos?
It's been almost a month since I posted an entry in this blog. I have been sharing bloggin' time between here and MySpace. And when I'm not bloggin', I'm shootin' and when I'm not shootin' I'm processin' and when I'm not processin' I'm generally doin' nothing.
That is the extent of my life these days. Not much to it, but I like it. Yes, it could be better. Jessica Beal could be my next door neighbor, or I could be able to go anywhere I want to shoot the photos I want. But she ain't and I can't...so I don't worry about it.
Hell, I can't even afford to get my desktop system working properly. And when it doesn't work correctly, I am forced into using a laptop which is almost as old as I am. And I can't stand the keyboard. My desktop system has one of those ergonomic keyboards. I love that keyboard. I hate straight keyboards. I spend almost as much time fixin' typos as I do typin' words worth typin'.
I hate typos. During my Air Force career, I was assigned as the editor of a couple of base newspapers. My first one was stateside and for the most part, when I submitted copy which had typos, the typesetter would correct them. She was great like that. She was also hot...but taken.
Then I was assigned to Aviano AB, Italy. I loved that assignment. As editor of The Vigileer, I had a lot of responsibility in that position, especially since I was the only staff member. But the worst part was fixin' the typos. Some English words are very similar to Italian words. So, when the typesetters saw a similar word, they typed the Italian word out of habit. It didn't happen all the time, but it happened often enough to keep me on my toes. I generally caught almost all the typos. Some did get by me, but I rarely had one on the front page...until a week in September 1976.
Just prior to my arrival in Italy, a series of large earthquakes struck the region. Close to a thousand people died in the strongest quake. Towns were in a shambles and most of the damage was in the towns surrounding Aviano. The people in the area knew what killed the majority of the people. It was buildings falling on them.
So when another fairly strong quake hit on the day my newspaper copy was being set, the typesetters decided they didn't want to be in the building they worked in until they were sure it was safe. That meant waiting until the next day, then making sure the building was still standing. But my timetable had taken a hit...it was a day behind schedule. When I arrived at the publishers to layout the paper, none of my set copy had arrived. At this point in time, my newspaper was hot lead. Each line of type was formed on a strip of lead. The letters, the words, the pictures, everything about the newspaper was mirrored so it would print correctly. When I looked at the columns of type as they were in the boards, the letters of each word was reversed. Normally, I would run some ink over the plate, press a large sheet of paper on it, and then take the proof sheet back to the base and proofread the paper that evening. But I was behind schedule, and in order to publish the paper on Friday, I had to make some decisions.
As I was trying (my Italian wasn't that good and no one spoke English at the printing plant) to explain my decision, another shaker rumbled through the area. I watched as everyone in the plant ran out the large double doors about 30 feet away from me. I watched as dirt fell from the ceiling rafters, I watched as the lights swung back and forth and I watched the last of the workers and followed her gorgeous body out of the building.
Here it was Wednesday morning, the newspaper needed to be "put to bed" that evening so it could be printed on Thursday and distributed around the base and town on Friday. It had been drilled into me that an editor NEVER missed a publishing date. Well, not long after we exited the building, the typesetter's (their building was about a half mile way) delivery man arrived with the first run of copy. I did the best I could to proofread what I had, marked the mistakes and sent the changes back to the typesetters. A couple of hours later, another tremor rumbled through the area. Well, that did it. Everyone quit working and went home.
The owner of the printing plant said if I was there early in the morning, he would make sure everything was done by noon so the paper could get printed and delivered on time. So, the next morning, I was at the typesetters at 6 am...and they weren't. I waited around for about 30 minutes and then went to the printing plant. As I walked in the door, yet another quake shook the area. After hanging around outside for a couple of hours and noticing the building wasn't coming down on top of us, we all went back inside. I told the owner about the typesetters and he called their office. No one answered. He then called the typesetter boss at home and talked to him for a few minutes.
When the owner hung up the phone, he told me that the typesetter's building sustained some damage the day before and his workers were off until the building could be repaired the next week. Now remember, no one there spoke English, but a man who worked in bar a couple of buildings down did and that is where we went to talk over the situation. With a cup of Cafe Correcto and some sort of pastry, the three of us talked...one translating what the owner and myself said. In the end, I called my office, explained the situation to my supervisor told him I would do what I could to fix the typos, and get the paper out Friday morning when it should hit the street. Since we had no idea of when things would return to normal, he agreed and told me to get the paper out on time.
Well, I did the best I could to fix the typos, especially those on the front page. And I got the paper out on time. But at a cost. During the lunchtime, a lieutenant who I had never met walked into my office and plopped a copy of the paper on my desk. He had circled every typo he found in the paper in red ink. As he dropped the paper, he said, "I have a degree in journalism and I would have rather died than put out a piece of shit paper like you did, sergeant. What have to say for yourself." I looked at the lieutenant and said, "Talk to my boss, sir. Captain So-and-so will return from lunch shortly." He left without saying another word.
I unfolded the paper he dropped in front of me and started counting. On the front page alone, there were 17 typos. I knew there would be a lot since I couldn't fix all of them the day before, but I didn't think there were that many. Looking through the rest of the paper, there were a total of 122 typos. Normally, I would have three or four in my eight page tabloid. I reached for my roladex and got the number for my counterpart at higher headquarters and called him to relay the news about my paper. After talking to him, and explaining the situation, he understood and said he wouldn't count the paper against me. I vowed then and there that I would do everything I could to get rid of typos in things I type.
But they still get through and this friggin keyboard isn't helping...hehe.
But you know, the worst part of the story above is this: I put out 24 issues a year (skipped New Years and Christmas weeks). In early December of that earthquake ridden year, headquarters for the Air Force announce the dates of the mandatory newspaper submissions for the annual media contest. You guessed it...my earthquake ravaged edition was one of the mandatory submissions. Naturally, I didn't win any awards that year.
That is the extent of my life these days. Not much to it, but I like it. Yes, it could be better. Jessica Beal could be my next door neighbor, or I could be able to go anywhere I want to shoot the photos I want. But she ain't and I can't...so I don't worry about it.
Hell, I can't even afford to get my desktop system working properly. And when it doesn't work correctly, I am forced into using a laptop which is almost as old as I am. And I can't stand the keyboard. My desktop system has one of those ergonomic keyboards. I love that keyboard. I hate straight keyboards. I spend almost as much time fixin' typos as I do typin' words worth typin'.
I hate typos. During my Air Force career, I was assigned as the editor of a couple of base newspapers. My first one was stateside and for the most part, when I submitted copy which had typos, the typesetter would correct them. She was great like that. She was also hot...but taken.
Then I was assigned to Aviano AB, Italy. I loved that assignment. As editor of The Vigileer, I had a lot of responsibility in that position, especially since I was the only staff member. But the worst part was fixin' the typos. Some English words are very similar to Italian words. So, when the typesetters saw a similar word, they typed the Italian word out of habit. It didn't happen all the time, but it happened often enough to keep me on my toes. I generally caught almost all the typos. Some did get by me, but I rarely had one on the front page...until a week in September 1976.
Just prior to my arrival in Italy, a series of large earthquakes struck the region. Close to a thousand people died in the strongest quake. Towns were in a shambles and most of the damage was in the towns surrounding Aviano. The people in the area knew what killed the majority of the people. It was buildings falling on them.
So when another fairly strong quake hit on the day my newspaper copy was being set, the typesetters decided they didn't want to be in the building they worked in until they were sure it was safe. That meant waiting until the next day, then making sure the building was still standing. But my timetable had taken a hit...it was a day behind schedule. When I arrived at the publishers to layout the paper, none of my set copy had arrived. At this point in time, my newspaper was hot lead. Each line of type was formed on a strip of lead. The letters, the words, the pictures, everything about the newspaper was mirrored so it would print correctly. When I looked at the columns of type as they were in the boards, the letters of each word was reversed. Normally, I would run some ink over the plate, press a large sheet of paper on it, and then take the proof sheet back to the base and proofread the paper that evening. But I was behind schedule, and in order to publish the paper on Friday, I had to make some decisions.
As I was trying (my Italian wasn't that good and no one spoke English at the printing plant) to explain my decision, another shaker rumbled through the area. I watched as everyone in the plant ran out the large double doors about 30 feet away from me. I watched as dirt fell from the ceiling rafters, I watched as the lights swung back and forth and I watched the last of the workers and followed her gorgeous body out of the building.
Here it was Wednesday morning, the newspaper needed to be "put to bed" that evening so it could be printed on Thursday and distributed around the base and town on Friday. It had been drilled into me that an editor NEVER missed a publishing date. Well, not long after we exited the building, the typesetter's (their building was about a half mile way) delivery man arrived with the first run of copy. I did the best I could to proofread what I had, marked the mistakes and sent the changes back to the typesetters. A couple of hours later, another tremor rumbled through the area. Well, that did it. Everyone quit working and went home.
The owner of the printing plant said if I was there early in the morning, he would make sure everything was done by noon so the paper could get printed and delivered on time. So, the next morning, I was at the typesetters at 6 am...and they weren't. I waited around for about 30 minutes and then went to the printing plant. As I walked in the door, yet another quake shook the area. After hanging around outside for a couple of hours and noticing the building wasn't coming down on top of us, we all went back inside. I told the owner about the typesetters and he called their office. No one answered. He then called the typesetter boss at home and talked to him for a few minutes.
When the owner hung up the phone, he told me that the typesetter's building sustained some damage the day before and his workers were off until the building could be repaired the next week. Now remember, no one there spoke English, but a man who worked in bar a couple of buildings down did and that is where we went to talk over the situation. With a cup of Cafe Correcto and some sort of pastry, the three of us talked...one translating what the owner and myself said. In the end, I called my office, explained the situation to my supervisor told him I would do what I could to fix the typos, and get the paper out Friday morning when it should hit the street. Since we had no idea of when things would return to normal, he agreed and told me to get the paper out on time.
Well, I did the best I could to fix the typos, especially those on the front page. And I got the paper out on time. But at a cost. During the lunchtime, a lieutenant who I had never met walked into my office and plopped a copy of the paper on my desk. He had circled every typo he found in the paper in red ink. As he dropped the paper, he said, "I have a degree in journalism and I would have rather died than put out a piece of shit paper like you did, sergeant. What have to say for yourself." I looked at the lieutenant and said, "Talk to my boss, sir. Captain So-and-so will return from lunch shortly." He left without saying another word.
I unfolded the paper he dropped in front of me and started counting. On the front page alone, there were 17 typos. I knew there would be a lot since I couldn't fix all of them the day before, but I didn't think there were that many. Looking through the rest of the paper, there were a total of 122 typos. Normally, I would have three or four in my eight page tabloid. I reached for my roladex and got the number for my counterpart at higher headquarters and called him to relay the news about my paper. After talking to him, and explaining the situation, he understood and said he wouldn't count the paper against me. I vowed then and there that I would do everything I could to get rid of typos in things I type.
But they still get through and this friggin keyboard isn't helping...hehe.
But you know, the worst part of the story above is this: I put out 24 issues a year (skipped New Years and Christmas weeks). In early December of that earthquake ridden year, headquarters for the Air Force announce the dates of the mandatory newspaper submissions for the annual media contest. You guessed it...my earthquake ravaged edition was one of the mandatory submissions. Naturally, I didn't win any awards that year.
Friday, May 18, 2007
What's Life with a Senior Moment or Two?
I was out shooting again yesterday. I think I'll try and do it every other day (weather permitting). Besides, it's good for my fat ass.
I got a few new species to add to my collection...a couple of new butterflies and a few fly type insects. Just before I headed off to my favorite shooting site, I noticed a couple of large bumble bees flirting around in my landlord's flower garden.
One of the two was a species I hadn't seen before, and the other I have only so-so images of that type. I was able to knock of a couple of dozen shots, some of them pretty good based on what I saw in the viewfinder. I generally don't chimp my shots to see what they look like, but I was shooting manual and guessing (from experience) what the shot settings should be. So, I looked at the last image and was happy to see it looked okay.
Feeling good about the exposure of the bee images, I headed off towards the Dry Canyon Trail. Just as I got to the top of the stairs leading down to the trail, I thought, "Did I reformat my CF card since my last photo shoot?"
I looked at the image count on the camera, saw it was about 20 images lower than full capacity, and in a total "senior-moment" reformatted the card to full capacity. I then continued on my merry way wandering the dry canyon area, looking to subjects to shoot.
As I said before, it was a good day...but I had realized at one point that I had forgotten to take along some of my glucose tablets (I am a diabetic) and the lack of sugar in my system was causing my legs to cramp up. So, I did the smart thing and headed home.
Once I got back to the house, and things got back to normal with my legs, I put the CF card in the computer, transfered the images to my computer and began looking at them. I was almost finished looking at the images when I remembered the bumble bee shots and went back to the beginning of the image list. When I saw my first shot was inside the dry canyon, I was confused, until remembered what happened at the top of the stairs at the canyon.
I think the dents on the tabletop of my computer desk still visible.
Now, I am waiting for FedEx to delivery my repaired lens to me. I sure do miss that lens. As I mentioned in a post a while back, it's the Canon EF 70-300 stabilized, which replaced the EF 75-300 stabilized which I used in the interim. The older lens is slower in focus and not as sharp, plus the stabilization in the new lens is slightly better. I'll be glad to get the lens back and on my camera.
I got a few new species to add to my collection...a couple of new butterflies and a few fly type insects. Just before I headed off to my favorite shooting site, I noticed a couple of large bumble bees flirting around in my landlord's flower garden.
One of the two was a species I hadn't seen before, and the other I have only so-so images of that type. I was able to knock of a couple of dozen shots, some of them pretty good based on what I saw in the viewfinder. I generally don't chimp my shots to see what they look like, but I was shooting manual and guessing (from experience) what the shot settings should be. So, I looked at the last image and was happy to see it looked okay.
Feeling good about the exposure of the bee images, I headed off towards the Dry Canyon Trail. Just as I got to the top of the stairs leading down to the trail, I thought, "Did I reformat my CF card since my last photo shoot?"
I looked at the image count on the camera, saw it was about 20 images lower than full capacity, and in a total "senior-moment" reformatted the card to full capacity. I then continued on my merry way wandering the dry canyon area, looking to subjects to shoot.
As I said before, it was a good day...but I had realized at one point that I had forgotten to take along some of my glucose tablets (I am a diabetic) and the lack of sugar in my system was causing my legs to cramp up. So, I did the smart thing and headed home.
Once I got back to the house, and things got back to normal with my legs, I put the CF card in the computer, transfered the images to my computer and began looking at them. I was almost finished looking at the images when I remembered the bumble bee shots and went back to the beginning of the image list. When I saw my first shot was inside the dry canyon, I was confused, until remembered what happened at the top of the stairs at the canyon.
I think the dents on the tabletop of my computer desk still visible.
Now, I am waiting for FedEx to delivery my repaired lens to me. I sure do miss that lens. As I mentioned in a post a while back, it's the Canon EF 70-300 stabilized, which replaced the EF 75-300 stabilized which I used in the interim. The older lens is slower in focus and not as sharp, plus the stabilization in the new lens is slightly better. I'll be glad to get the lens back and on my camera.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
The Eyes of Texas are in My Photos
I have been working on my Texas pics and posting them on Flickr. It's a slow process of select the best image, work it over until I am satisfied, locate an identification on the subject, upload the image, title and describe it, ok it, then go on to the next one.
Depending on the image, that can take between 30 minutes and several hours. I even spent four days trying to ID one critter in my early uploading days.
I don't mind...I learn a lot on each image I search for identities, so it's a win-win situation. A person can never know too much, which is a hell of a lot better than not knowing enough.
I also redid one of those MySpace things. I always wondered why my nephew has sooo many women on his site. But I don't anymore. He must "approve" everyone of those spamming hussies he gets a request from...hehehe. I have declined at least a dozen already. If those gals really looked at my profile and/or really looked at my photo, they never would have sent me the request. Well...maybe they would...but a pic of a hot, sexy slut begging me to approve her as one of my friends just ain't what I am about.
Now, if they would knock on my door, well, that's a different story.
Depending on the image, that can take between 30 minutes and several hours. I even spent four days trying to ID one critter in my early uploading days.
I don't mind...I learn a lot on each image I search for identities, so it's a win-win situation. A person can never know too much, which is a hell of a lot better than not knowing enough.
I also redid one of those MySpace things. I always wondered why my nephew has sooo many women on his site. But I don't anymore. He must "approve" everyone of those spamming hussies he gets a request from...hehehe. I have declined at least a dozen already. If those gals really looked at my profile and/or really looked at my photo, they never would have sent me the request. Well...maybe they would...but a pic of a hot, sexy slut begging me to approve her as one of my friends just ain't what I am about.
Now, if they would knock on my door, well, that's a different story.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Home Again
I probably should have updated this a couple of days ago, but I didn't. 8v) I am back in Oregon now. San Antonio was fun, humid and stormy. The best part of the trip was seeing family and an old friend I hadn't seen since like 1970 plus or minus a year or two.
The evening I arrived in San Antonio, my brother and his son went to a gathering of amateur astronomers they knew my friend would be at. When we got there, I had a little fun with my old buddy and walked up like I was just an interested person with a question. I asked one, my friend turned around and began to answer when suddenly, I could see things began clicking in his head. It took a moment for him to figure it out, but needless to say, the look on his face was worth it. Sorry Yogie...but I couldn't resist.
I also saw a lot of new birds, bugs and butterflies and got some good photos. However, I had some equipment problems and my photos aren't as good as I hoped they would be. I did however, push my 20,000th image through my Canon Digital Rebel.
I am currently working on the uploadable images and will be posting them to my Flickr photostream when finished. Most of them are of butterflies. The birds in San Antonio knew how to hide from me. The trees were all fully fledged with leaves and I figure the comfort of all that green surrounding them made it a nice place to hide...but that is bad for a photographer with low-end gear. 8v(
Anyway, it might snow tonight in central Oregon. I have a lens to ship off for repairs. And it's time I got it out.
The evening I arrived in San Antonio, my brother and his son went to a gathering of amateur astronomers they knew my friend would be at. When we got there, I had a little fun with my old buddy and walked up like I was just an interested person with a question. I asked one, my friend turned around and began to answer when suddenly, I could see things began clicking in his head. It took a moment for him to figure it out, but needless to say, the look on his face was worth it. Sorry Yogie...but I couldn't resist.
I also saw a lot of new birds, bugs and butterflies and got some good photos. However, I had some equipment problems and my photos aren't as good as I hoped they would be. I did however, push my 20,000th image through my Canon Digital Rebel.
I am currently working on the uploadable images and will be posting them to my Flickr photostream when finished. Most of them are of butterflies. The birds in San Antonio knew how to hide from me. The trees were all fully fledged with leaves and I figure the comfort of all that green surrounding them made it a nice place to hide...but that is bad for a photographer with low-end gear. 8v(
Anyway, it might snow tonight in central Oregon. I have a lens to ship off for repairs. And it's time I got it out.
Monday, April 23, 2007
San Antonio, Texas
Well, I am in San Antonio Texas now, visiting with family and a friend I haven't seen since the early 70s. My first evevning here, he and I met at a meeting of the local astronomy club and spent most of the time reliving old memories.
My main goal here has been nature photography. I have gotten some good images but not as vaired as I hoped for. The weather has played hell on my visit, but should improve before I leave. I'll post my new images when I return to Oregon.
But, for now, I'll enjoy where I am and the people I am with. This is me, signing off for now.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Good Day Shooting
I was out shooting images again this afternoon. Great afternoon for it. Sunny and warm, but a bit breezy. I got some decent images, which isn't all that bad considering I have recently been shooting in Manual mode. Seems I remember a lot of what I knew before fully automatic cameras came into being. It is fun shooting when you figure out the expose yourself.
One interesting thing happened while I was out on the photo safari...I was in my favorite area, the Dry Canyon Trail, and I had a visitor. I have folks often ask me what I am doing and I tell them what I am shooting. Most look at me weirdly, and go on about their business. Seems photographing bugs isn't an all that well appreciated occupation 8v)
Anyway, this visitor was a young woman who walked up to me while I was sitting on a rock. She wanted to know if I was okay. A kind enough thought. I looked at her and said I was, then told her I was just waiting for a butterfly to return. When she asked me how I knew it would return, I simply said, "It always does." Well, she sat on the rock next to me and I explained what I was talking about. It wasn't much more than five minutes, when a butterfly landed about 15 feet away. It wasn't the Mourning Cloak I was waiting for, but a Zephyr Anglewing. It couldn't have been more than 30 seconds when the Mourning Cloak drifted by and the anglewing took off and attacked it.
They pair circled each other for a few seconds then split and I heard the young woman say, "Cool. It landed right in front of us." There it was, the Mourning Cloak less than six feet away. I fired off six or seven shots before it flew again and I went back to sitting on the rock. The young woman asked if I was going to wait again and I said I was. She said, "Have fun. Butterflies are really cool," and she headed back to the trail and walked off.
I may not have made her a nature lover, but hopefully she now has a better appreciation for the world around her.
One interesting thing happened while I was out on the photo safari...I was in my favorite area, the Dry Canyon Trail, and I had a visitor. I have folks often ask me what I am doing and I tell them what I am shooting. Most look at me weirdly, and go on about their business. Seems photographing bugs isn't an all that well appreciated occupation 8v)
Anyway, this visitor was a young woman who walked up to me while I was sitting on a rock. She wanted to know if I was okay. A kind enough thought. I looked at her and said I was, then told her I was just waiting for a butterfly to return. When she asked me how I knew it would return, I simply said, "It always does." Well, she sat on the rock next to me and I explained what I was talking about. It wasn't much more than five minutes, when a butterfly landed about 15 feet away. It wasn't the Mourning Cloak I was waiting for, but a Zephyr Anglewing. It couldn't have been more than 30 seconds when the Mourning Cloak drifted by and the anglewing took off and attacked it.
They pair circled each other for a few seconds then split and I heard the young woman say, "Cool. It landed right in front of us." There it was, the Mourning Cloak less than six feet away. I fired off six or seven shots before it flew again and I went back to sitting on the rock. The young woman asked if I was going to wait again and I said I was. She said, "Have fun. Butterflies are really cool," and she headed back to the trail and walked off.
I may not have made her a nature lover, but hopefully she now has a better appreciation for the world around her.
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