Gaggle Me!

First tour of Montezuma for the year and apparently everyone else had the same idea. So many cars on the drive, many spectators at the carp convention. We found ospreys on one nest along Route 20 but no others. I sure hope there will be more soon, but at least two nests on Route 89 have come down. As usual for this early there were mostly waterfowl to see: Canvasbacks, ring necked ducks, lots of mallards, coots, and geese. As you can see by the photos there were hundreds of snow geese (thanks for the heads-up, Max). Their activity was really strange, one minute they were congregated on the pond, then they all got up and flew around in circles for maybe 10 minutes, and finally settled back down for a swim....go figure. Oh yes, the turtles - they were loving the warm sunshine just like the rest of us. Meanwhile, back at the lock, Mama Eagle is sitting pretty incubating her chicks. They should hatch in another couple of weeks. I hope this year I can get good shots of the newborns.

Building the Next Generaton at Mud Lock

On my way to Sistah Kate's house on Saturday I decided I might as well check out Montezuma for signs of winter wildlife. Nothing much at the refuge, but I was surprised to see the eagles at Mud Lock sprucing up the nest and trying mightily to generate a new brood of young. I was there about 2 hours on Saturday and again for an hour or so this morning. Mom and Pop are actively repairing the nest and mating - I did not expect to see activity so soon and wonder if they spent the winter here.
Today there was also a small flock of tundra swans - about 4 or 5 flying about. I took a short drive down Cayuga lake and found this great black-backed gull soaking up some rays. There were also lots of goldeneyes at the lock. Several folks came and went while I was there both Sunday and today. Their lenses, cameras and tripods looked far superior to my modest set up but I got some good shots nevertheless. I would, however, appreciate some input on the photo of the immature baldy shown here. Can't seem to get it to sharpen up without messing up the color balance.

Who-o-o-o Done It?

I've been meaning to get out to Beaver Lake to take pictures of the winter birds. So yesterday I picked up Sarah and we headed out. It was probably not the best day to go since it was very gray and overcast, but I had procrastinated too long! I'd heard that there was a snowy owl who was hanging around one of the farms in Cato so we went there first. Two passes down the road netted no owl, but on our final pass we spotted him on the telephone pole. He was nice enough to pose patiently for us so we got lots of pictures.


From Cato we drove to Beaver Lake, stopping on the way to take a picture of a red tailed hawk who had been feasting on a deer carcass. BL was busy. Lots of birds feasting at the feeders. I don't know what kind of sparrow is in the photos here - the yellow wing stripe is a puzzler. **CORRECTION: it's not a sparrow, it's a pine siskin.

How to deal with the l-o-o-o-o-ng winter

This is it: my solution to the winter doldrums. Every winter I find a challenging jigsaw puzzle for those days when it's just too cold and/or wooly to do anything else. Trouble is, this year my only puzzles were old ones, far too easy to assemble. I was done in a couple of days and winter still loomed large. The puzzle you see here consists of 5000 pieces. It's about 39x62" in size and should keep me busy for awhile. The photo here is a result of I'd guess 2-3 hours of work.

Geez....this might even get me through to NEXT winter (although right now I dare not consider the next round of frigid cold). I'll keep you posted.

Mr. Obama Goes to Washington

My musings on the Inauguration:

Interesting that Obama , a biracial man, is referred to as "black." He is equally white. Yes, I know that traditionally a person with at least 1/64th (I think that's right) black ancestry is considered black, but doesn't that seem foolish? If I am 1/64th Russian and 63/64ths Polynesian, does that make me Russian? I don't know, it seems a silly distinction. Rather than our color perhaps we should be recognized by our cultural heritage - all of it.

None of that, however, diminishes the significance of today's events. I'm sure every inaugural speech, each changing of the executive guard, brings renewed hope and optimism, but there was something special about today. We are looking at a rather bleak economical forecast, we are involved in an unpopular war, many of us are left feeling let down and betrayed by the outgoing administration. Yet the support and enthusiasm of the crowd seems more than just the renewed hope that comes with a new administration.

As I watched the live feed of the Obamas attending a church service this morning, and again later during the invocation and benediction of the swearing-in ceremony, I wondered... what if an incoming President's religion - or lack thereof - ran counter to those traditions? What if an incoming President believed - as I think we should seriously consider - that the separation of church and state needs to be honored and therefore chose not to include any religious observances as a part of the inauguration?

The following paragraphs were, to me, the most memorable part of the address:

"...We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus — and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace."

Obama reminds us of our heritage, our forefathers' dreams, and the cultural diversity in our country and our world. He tells us not to forget where we come from, and where we are going. He challenges us to respond to the needs, to be open to the cultures, of peoples all over the world.

One other thing that impresses me is Obama's charge for us to renew our commitment to volunteering through his "Renew America Together" campaign. As its home page says (http://www.usaservice.org) "President Obama believes each of us, as Americans, have a responsibility to do what we can for our communities and fellow citizens. We are one nation." I was unaware that MLK Day was supposed to be a national day of community service and I commend Obama for reminding us of our responsibility as caring citizens.

I hope - I fervently hope - that when the excitement and celebration has waned and President Obama hunkers down to the job ahead of him, he remembers his words and does his damndest to live up to them.

The Continuing Adventures of Oma and Kelsey

"Would you guys like to come visit tomorrow?" It was my daughter in law calling. "All Kelsey talks about is, "Oma, Oma, Oma. Amia, Amia, Amia." Music to a grandmother's ear. The shy clingy toddler has left her cocoon, emerging as a mischievous social butterfly. She is asking for Oma and Aunt Amelia to come visit.

Having recently discovered crayons and paints, Kelsey spent the day of our Christmas celebration coaxing various family members to color with her. "Oma! Oma! Color!" She ran from one adult to another, her eyes sparkling with the secret that she was about to jump in your lap, suddenly dropping into your arms then as quickly hopping up to "drop in" on another unsuspecting victim.

So on Saturday morning, Amelia and I traveled to Kelsey's house, bringing along Riley the beagle to play with Kelsey's puppy Zeus. Kelsey was the quintessential hostess, showing us her kitty, her new toys, her crib. And then the paints came out. Mom was quick to strip off the new pants and t-shirt lest they become an unwitting canvas for the budding artist. It was a wise move. Kelsey's hands quickly became covered with paint which she immediately wiped clean on her belly. Then came the face painting. Kelsey painted Oma and Aunt Amia, and we returned the favor. After the masterpieces had been completed and set on the counter to dry it was off to the tub for Kelsey. A little more play, an Elmo's World video, and Miss Kelsey was rubbing her eyes and trying not to fall asleep. It was time for the visitors to head for home.

Another excellent adventure for Oma and Kelsey.

Where's My Lobster?

Last night Max and I were talking about relationships and how hard it is to find a good mate. What is it about men, I wanted to know, and where are the good ones? Ask any woman that question and she will roll her eyes, pausing at an upward glance as if to say, "God, what were you thinking???" No, this isn't meant to be a man-bashing post. I know there are as many creepy women out there as there are men. But this isn't about women - or creeps for that matter. What I'd like to know is how to find my lobster.

Any Friends fan can tell you about lobsters. There is an episode in which Phoebe reassures Ross that he and Rachel will eventually get together. How can she be so sure? asks Ross. Because, says Phobe, "She's your lobster." Phoebe goes on to explain that lobsters mate for life and describes two old lobsters crawling around in a tank lovingly holding claws. As it turns out, lobsters aren't monogamous; they are cold-blooded creatures with very small brains that are little more than a bunch of ganglia. Lobsters tend to be cannibalistic in a crowded environment but in small groups, they are fun-loving types, hanging out in pods of around a dozen members. Add a tiny tv broadcasting some lobster-type sporting event, a few crustacean brews, and VOILA! There's your guy!

Imagine this profile on "ClawsMate.com"...
Mature decapod seeks special lady
Love long walks on the beach, strolling claw-in-claw and enjoying a seaside sunset. Looking to meet someone who is down to earth. Not into tickle sticks, nets, and other head games. I have fun in small groups but try to stay away from larger crowds. Most of my free time is spent relaxing under stone ledges or exploring the scenery along the reef. I enjoy preparing meals for my partner and would love to share a dinner of fresh mollusks with algae dressing with you. I believe in safety at all times and am banded for your protection. E-mail me and let's see where it goes.

But seriously... the cynical me is slowly giving way to the desire for companionship. A warm touch, a soft caress, all those romantic ideas we carry through life. I know it's out there. I've seen it. I know people who have it. I want to believe there is still a chance for me.

I want my lobster.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

For those of you who won't have a white Christmas this year, I'd like to share a piece of mine. You see, this is Central New York, affectionately know as "Lake Effect Country." The snow you see in these photos has all fallen since Friday. That's right - in four days we've accumulated at least 3 FEET of snow. The official total is something over 30" with a season total of 65" to date. Here in Cicero, although we are about five miles from the airport where they take the official measurement, we have even more. Our total for yesterday alone was nearly 2 feet. Anyway, here is my Christmas gift to you. Whether you are relieved that you don't live here, or wish that you were skiing here, sit back and enjoy the view.

Christmas is...

....a Christian observance? a Pagan celebration? a commercial holiday? the most stressful season? We could argue from now 'til New Year's about who "owns" Christmas and what it's all about, but that's not my story for today. My story is a personal experience and it defines what Christmas means to me.

1961 - yeah it was a long time ago. I was 8 that winter and in second grade. I grew up in a farming community. We weren't rich by any stretch of the imagination - some might say we were poor - but it was the life I knew and it felt comfortable to me. Our area was home to lots of migrants in the summer and early fall, mostly Puerto Ricans, who helped with the harvests.

Anyway, this particular year a family of migrants did not leave with the autumn frost. They enrolled their three daughters in school - none of whom spoke English. There was no ESL (English as a Second language) support in those days, but my teacher, Miss Carmella Socci, spoke Spanish. Our classroom became home to those three little girls while they got accustomed to school. The morning messages on the board were bilingual. We all learned a little Spanish. Today is Friday. Hoy es el Viernes... or something like that. The girls rode my bus and we became friends.

As Christmas approached my dad called the family together with a question, "Would you like to help Santa this year?" Of course we would! Dad explained that some families didn't always have a very good Christmas and he knew of one that we could help out - our Puerto Rican friends from school. Dad asked us to find things that we would be willing to give this family so their Christmas might be as nice as ours. I remember going through my few toys, finding a doll and some other items to give to the girls. We also found clothing, shoes, coats, hats, mittens for the children and their parents. My mom packed in some food.

Christmas Eve was on a Sunday that year and after church we all piled into our station wagon and drove to Floridaville where the migrant family lived. No one was home and we quickly filled their front porch with the boxes packed full of our Christmas offering. My dad attached a note from Santa wishing the family a very Merry Christmas. As we drove away I think we all felt that this was a special Christmas indeed.

On the first day back to school in early January, the bus picked up the girls at their house. As they got on the bus the youngest was carrying my doll - the doll I had added to the Christmas box. She was so excited, showing me her doll that Santa had brought. And I felt so good watching her play with her doll, keeping the secret of our work as Santa's helpers.

It was a small thing that we did. But it was a big thing for me. Something that has stayed with me, as clearly as if it were yesterday. And it is my best ever Christmas memory.

Yessir, that's my baby! (and his baby)

Where is your safe place?

A few years ago I saw a therapist to help me cope with some issues in life. One day we were discussing a particularly intense topic. I was scared - no, I was terrified. And the therapist said to me, "Barb, you need a safe place where you can't be hurt. Where is a place where you can feel safe?"

I couldn't think of anything. At that moment there was nowhere I could imagine being safe from the danger I was feeling. Where could I feel safe? Maybe in the arms of a big, protecting tree. You know, in that place where the trunk splits out into branches. The place where I could sit - hide - and be protected by the strong branch-arms, hidden by the blanket of leaves. In my mind I put myself in that tree...but it was not safe.

My panic grew. "There is no safe place!" I pleaded. "Nothing can keep me safe!"

As I struggled to calm myself an image came to me: A young child. Me. Sitting in my grandfather's lap. Grampa lived with us from the time I was about 6 and we kids used to fight over who got to sit on his lap. When I sat in his lap - in his arms, it felt as if nothing in the world could ever be bad. My grandpa's lap was the safest, warmest, most comforting place I knew.

Where is your safe place?

Must See TV

Life On Mars
Episode 7: The Man Who Sold The World
ABC-TV http://abc.go.com/primetime/lifeonmars)

The last thing you remember is rushing to answer the phone in your car across the street. The year is 2008. But here you are, lying in the street and it isn’t 2008 any more, it’s 1973. Suddenly you’ve been thrust back 25 years to a New York City you haven’t see since you were 4 years old. And you have no idea how or why. Are you dead? Insane? Is this a dream? Or is this reality and 2008 is the dream?

That’s where Detective Sam Tyler finds himself at the beginning of the series, Life on Mars. Based on a popular British series by the same name, Life on Mars puts a 21st century cop in the hippie era, anti-war, racially charged culture of 1970s New York. There are no computers, no DNA testing, no cell phones. Sam’s new coworkers at the 125th precinct are tough, no-nonsense cops who don’t let ethics – and sometimes justice – get in their way.

Sam can’t reconcile his 2008 memories with his 1973 presence. He feels as if he has been sent back 25 years for a reason. He receives “messages” from 2008 by way of radio, television, phone calls, and occasional interaction with the 70s version of a person in his 2008 life. The only person he confides in is Annie. Referred to by her co-workers as No-Nuts Norris, Annie is the token female on the force. With a previous degree in psychology she is a sympathetic ear for Sam, often encouraging him to seek psychological help for what she imagines can only be delusions.

This week’s episode finds Sam face-to-face with his father, Vic, who disappeared in the middle of Sam’s fourth birthday party, which happens to be taking place on the upcoming Saturday in Sam’s 1973 world. Vic has been arrested for kidnapping infant Andrew Kreshpane, but claims he is only a messenger for the up-and-coming Pignato family mob. Eager to vindicate his father, Sam convinces Vic to help the police rescue the baby. What follows is the interaction between an adult Sam and his father, with Sam trying to unravel the mystery of his father’s disappearance and discover the meaning behind a recurring vision of a woman in a red dress whom Sam believes is his mother, Rose, being attacked in the woods beyond the park where Sam’s birthday party takes place.

Episode 7 is the mid-season cliff-hanger so you won’t be surprised to know that the ending leaves us in suspense when Sam finds himself in an empty house, answering the phone and hearing an unknown voice direct him to the basement. Is this the way back to 2008? Is it a Pignato family trap? You’ll have to wait until January 28th when the show moves to Wednesdays after Lost to find out. In the meantime you can catch up on previous episodes online. You won’t regret it.

If I don't come back alive...

When you were a kid (can you remember that long ago?) what was your favorite pasttime with your sibs? Ours was playing on the swing. It hung in a giant sugar maple tree in our front yard. We lived in the boonies and our front yard was pretty big. The "swing tree" was at the edge of the yard, next to an old, no longer in use, cow pasture. My sisters and I played in that swing daily and our favorite game was pretending that the swing was a rocket ship that would take us to a far off world. One of us would man the "cockpit" while another provided the rocket "thrust" by pushing the swing higher and higher. This was before real outer space travel and after the days of the Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon movies so our imaginations were free to roam.

Apparently we traveled light for these excursions to unknown places. The only thing we carried was crackers. Don't ask me why - I simply don't remember. To let the crackers go stale or soft was the worst thing that could happen on our trek. Without those crackers to sustain us we would surely perish in the astronomical unknown. And as we swung higher and higher, we recited these words: "If I don't come back alive, you'll know why. S-o-o-o-g-g-y crackers!"

Autumn's Last Gasp

A short trip down Lakeshore Road today to see what was moving on the lake. Nothing but geese and gulls on this crisp and sunny day. Got a couple of interesting photos but it seems as if most of the usual inhabitants have flown off in search of warmer climes.

Montezuma's Last Stand...at least for this year

Saturday Max and I made one last trip to Montezuma, encouraged by a newspaper article and photos showing flocks of snow geese and great egrets. Much to our dismay we saw none of those. Much to our pleasure we saw seven bald eagles. There were lots and lots - and lots - of geese. The light was great and the colors were stunning.

Experiments with light and shadow

I never really learned artistic technique in school. Art class was not my forte. So now I'm trying to learn some of the basics. Here are a few photos where I tried to take advantage of natural light and shadows.

Understanding the wooly bear

I spotted this wooly bear trying to cross the highway on my way to Indian Lake on Sunday. Tell me - what do his stripes tell you? I've heard three versions:

--- When I was growing up, I always learned that the lighter the brown band, the milder the winter. Ergo, this little fella is telling us we'll have a nice mild winter.

---A few years ago someone told me that the stripes indicated the length of the winter as well so this wooly would be telling us that we'd have harsh weather for the first part of the season, followed by a long mild stretch and ending in another short stretch of bad weather before spring. (FYI - this guy's head is on the right).

---Just last week a second grade teacher insisted that the three bands indicated three seasons, hence, according to Mr. Wooly Bear, we will have an average-length fall, a long winter, and a short spring.

Which one is it?