Who Stretched Forth the Heavens?

How black was the night. I had looked forward to the evening planned and anticipated learning about the stars. Experts came with telescopes and enthusiasm. We had a wonderful time with the visit of members of the Astronomical Society of Colorado. They came to the Karval area for fun and some of the darkest nights anywhere. They shared with the community more than we could have dreamed.

Our eyes finally adjusted to the nighttime sky; we began our individual tours, with a sky so big we didn’t have to share our own personal view. The Milky Way stretched out before us, more like a cloud obscuring our view of stars than billions of stars blurred together.

Lines of interested people waited for a chance to see a close up view of Jupiter, or a nebula, or even Neptune. Just as amazing were the constellations pointed out by knowledgeable guides with powerful laser pointers. There are no lines in the sky to help you see Sagittarius as a teapot; or Scorpius a twin-tailed scorpion; the Big Dipper directing us to Polaris in the Little Dipper; Cassiopeia the queen, a distorted W; Draco the Dragon snaking along; Cepheus the king, a tilted house. Who can follow the Dipper’s handle and arch over to Arcturus in the constellation Bootes and spike downward to Spica in Virgo? We all got the chance to try our hands at identifying constellations.

Millennia of stars, stories, and celestial events spread before us. The longer we looked, the more stars seemed to appear. We saw several satellites slowly trace a line across the sky. No evening could be complete without a few falling stars, flaming bits of interplanetary dust flashing brilliantly toward earth. Chatter with friends made the time spent even more spectacular.

Distant Thunder

We have had quite a summer of rains. Out here on the prairie when it rains, it pours, and usually it doesn’t rain. Over the past few weeks the weather radio sounded the alarm - Severe weather warning in Southern Lincoln County - Thunder storm alert with possible tornado sightings. The bands of storms tore through the area and carried with them some impressive hail. Damage by the large hail stones marked the storms’ paths. On one such evening, we watched the storms, with nearly constant lightning, passed to the south. At the same time, another storm crashed through to the north. We wondered, “Will we have a garden in the morning?” To our delight we were spared damage all summer. Corn fields destroyed to the north are evidence of the fury.

An artist’s brush could never have captured the lightning displayed so many times this summer. The variety of colors reflected in the clouds…the intensity of light blinded us for a time..the lightning bolts like claws tearing the fabric of the sky…the distant rumble of thunder almost soothing, followed by the thunder so close it shook the earth like a passing freight train. Power this great reminded me that I am not in control. There was fear in the storm, but also beauty, wonder, and awe.

Five Mile Falcons

It has been a rare treat to see a pair of Peregrine Falcons on county road S. Over the past two weeks, one then the other has positioned itself on the power pole five miles west of Karval. I never expected to see one - let alone two. I first saw the female with her dark head and brownish back. I thought it was a Prairie Falcon, more common in the area. I stopped to see her as she looked around and slowly lifted her wings in flight.

Then last week, I saw on the same pole what I thought was the same bird. When I got the car near and stopped, I could tell it was a male Peregrine Falcon - the black medieval mask dark against the white of the breast. I watched for several minutes before he took flight over the fields. The long, pointed wings - powerful like a jet fighter. I made a return to take a photo yesterday, and as would be expected, they were not there. However, I can still see them imprinted in my mind. Another amazing bird has been added to my Karval list.

Back to School Marks the Gathering of Birds

Well, everyone it has been too long since I have posted anything. It has been an event-filled summer. I must say I spent a lot of time recapturing my garden from the weeds. I left on several short trips and no one told the weeds to wait for me to get back.

We are now back in school- and busy is the operative word. So now the weeds are trying to gain ground again. We love the fresh produce and have enjoyed the corn finally ready to be slathered with butter and devoured. The beans and beets are now taking a back seat.

Every time we enter the garden the birds leave in small flocks. As the evenings cool and the days shorten, the birds begin to gather for the migration south. Congregating Lark Buntings are crowding the fence wires. Many large groups of Robins are in the neighborhood trees. In some of the rain-filled lowlands, small groups of shore birds are arriving. Some of the early immature birds getting a head start. Families of Swainson’s Hawks have taken rows of power poles. Burrowing Owls are still overseeing their favorite haunts.

All of the rains have greened up the prairie and have given Prairie Dogs a new place to establish homes. Fields of ripening corn and sunflowers are thick with birds hiding out. The ever changing farmlands are still drawing my attention. A photo in the morning light can’t capture the mood of sunrise on a field of sunflowers or the sun creeping up greeting a new day.

Of Weeds and Things

A garden seems like a simple thing - turn the soil, plant the seed, let the sun shine, and wait. Then the sun shines and warms the earth. The early risers spring into action, but where are the corn and beans? A healthy crop of weeds tangle each row. Pull the thistle, kochia, grass and armfulls of unknown citizens. Finally, in the clean spaces, the corn and beans lift their heads. Squash, carrots, beets, and chard stretch upward and touch the sun.

Now the competition has begun. In each row, like painted lanes for a race, they jump into action. Weeds take the early lead in one row, while vegetables inch forward in another. So the summer proceeds. The hares-pace weeds always outdistance the tortoise stride of the produce. So I sit and watch the race...and weed. The removal of some doesn't seem to change the race much. There always comes a replacement hopping into action. The crops now strong and tall, dwarf the speedy weeds, putting every ounce of energy into growth. It just takes time, patience, and faith that the race will go to those who wait and weed.


Watering the Garden

The cool, clean stream of water
began its course down the row.
In the early morning light
the sun painted it silver-gold.
Like molten metal it flowed.

The thirsty soil clutched
and pulled at it.
So slowly the ribbon unrolled;
edges tripped and crawled
forward over piled grains.

The gentle curl of glass
wound around clumps of rock-hard clay
and lifted a leaf and carried an ant
on its back.

The saturated earth, now black,
pushed the stream on -
reaching, stretching, soaking
it inched.

Finally, at row's end,
the burnished trail shone brightly
from splashing entry to placid pool.
Its march now complete.

Plover Lover
July 10, 2009

Getting to Know You

Have you ever had one of those extra special personal interactions with wildlife that you never dreamed could happen? Well I have, and they keep me out looking, waiting for the next time that nature reaches out a feathered wing, a leafy branch, or a furry tail. The more time I spend outdoors, the more I love the small and simple things - so common and yet not.

As I went out this morning for a walk with my wife and new 7 month old daughter, I found the lighting perfect to capture some great images. I have been taking plant photos for another project that I am working on. There are so many new plants (weeds) that I don't know, having never lived on the plains, that I want to identify, so I take close-up pictures of plants to research later. I compose my shots carefully to show the common in unusual ways, so now I have quite a collection of Beautiful weeds. What a calendar it will make some day.

Well, that is not really the story that I wanted to tell. When climbing fences and taking my time to find something to add to my plant collection, I found myself face-to-face with one of my very vocal neighbors (Cassin's Sparrow). So why not photograph him too? He must have known he was my subject for a special photo shoot today. At close range, he permitted some great poses. Although not brightly colored, nor unusual in appearance, his flight and song make him a real treat to see so closely. I always consider this a gift and always appreciate it. After taking many pictures and having front row seats to his flight display, I wanted to get a picture. I am finding it almost impossible to do with my digital camera. The shutter and autofocus seem never to be in sync. I sometimes get a blur of wings or a blank shot of the sky. Maybe that is why I take pictures of plants. They don't seem to leap out of way.

There he sat on the barbed-wire and begged me to come closer. I failed miserably in getting a flight photo, but was then given a much better gift. As I leaned up against a power pole to steady myself and get a little cover, he popped up from the brush onto the fence wire about 15 feet away. As I was directly in line with the fence, my camera focused on the post in front of him. So I leaned out for a better view, and the bird seemed to feel my desire for a better shot. He started to hop and walk, foot-over-foot, down the wire toward me. I just stood there gawking and never even thought about getting it on film.

Before I knew it, he was only 6 feet away behind the fence post. Then, as if to play peek-a-boo, he leaned out and looked around the post at me and then leaned back. He did this several times before jumping into the air and landing on the wire agian. I could nearly reach out and touch him. He displayed several times as I tried to take some arial photos. It seems such a small thing, but the interaction was so real. I am better for having experienced it and to have taken the time to slow down and see and hear.

Is this sparrow only common like a weed, or is a weed a flower fit for framing? I only know that I will continue to collect beautiful things: weeds, flowers, sparrows, rocks, and images. My world is like a buffet with so many things to taste. I love to take some of everything, for I may find my new favorite, but will always come back to the common everyday things so familiar to me.

My Personal Air Show

I have spent more time in the yard this past couple of weeks since school let out. The garden is doing well and so are the weeds. We had some good heavy rain that saved me watering the yard, however it just about washed my garden out. I have hoped the plants know how to push through the mud that covers them. It has taken a few extra days but now they seem to be growing fine in sunny weather.

While in the yard a new song captured my attention. I finally got a look at the bird singing it. It is a sparrow that I was not familiar with. It has a long tail and nearly constant song. I had to take some time to identify it- so I took my camera out and did my best to get a picture of it. Its song identified it to be a Cassin's Sparrow. It is one of my new favorite birds. I love birds that sing with heart and soul. A song filled with joy and energy, not for any particular purpose, but just for fun. Their favorite stage is on top of a yucca, or a conveinent wire. I have only seen Cassin's Sparrows one other time, but now they are my constant companions singing, making my time in the yard more pleasant. Their early morning songs accompany my dreams, punctuate my work, and sing me to sleep at night.

They have no striking colors or patterns but have captured my admiration for two reasons. The first is their song which varies little and yet is a tune that gets stuck in your head. The second is their amazing flight display. I have to say it reminds me of a jet fighter landing on an aircraft Carrier. They launch themselves straight into the air and then with head reaching to the sky, feet stretched forward to the ground, tail cocked back as if a parachute land ever so gracefully in the weeds. They repeat this many times throughout the day. I appreciate the break from my yard work, which will assuredly be there after a bird break, and listen and watch.

One of the commonest visitors to the yard is the Horned Lark. They are not particularly concerned with my presence. They will land in the garden with me and sing their chime-like song, or find some fast food to nibble on.

Over the last few months I have learned to love the great maneuverability in flight they have. They are constantly on the road and seldom have a problem waiting till the last moment and darting off just in the nick of time. When with a partner they seem to delight in complicated synchronized flying- as if performing in a military air show. They carve their way across the fields. Flying low they veer suddenly upward and just as suddenly weave an intricate pattern with wing man tucked neatly in position, never missing a beat. Bursts of speed are followed by separation of the team, only to again resume the show. Was this show meant just for me, or simply a time to feel the wind beneath powerful wings and try something new, just because they can?