Read Tuesday Check-In
Hi, Folks, Growing up as I did, almost always near salt water and sea-farers, I learned early the adage, “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight; red sky at morning, sailors take warning.” There’s actually a meteorological basis for the old saying (described at the link below*). In our photograph of the American River we have
Hi, Folks, Calmness, stillness can give rise to wondrous reflections. Here, I’ve stopped paddling the kayak and have remained motionless long enough for the slightest ripples to pass away. At that moment, the reflection of the Great Egret, the reeds, trees and sky emerge clearly to be seen. I wish you moments today like that,
Hi, Folks, Here’s an interesting resident of the Parkway. Somewhat bigger than a crow, it’s a Black-crowned Night Heron, not so often seen in the daytime as the larger egrets and herons. This chunky heron goes shopping for food primarily at night, when it is easier to distance itself from its larger competitors who forage
Hi, Folks, Here, to go with the photograph today, are the first three stanzas of Mary Oliver’s poem, “Heron Rises from The Dark, Summer Pond”: So heavy is the long-necked, long-bodied heron, always it is a surprise when her smoke-colored wings open and she turns from the thick water, from the black sticks of the summer
Hi, Folks, These deer companions in a spot of early morning sunlight on the Parkway are excellent practitioners of social distancing. One more stroke of my kayak paddle toward them would have revealed, not only how wary, but just how fleet of foot they are. Below the deer photograph, you’ll see the results of a