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miscellanea Four not-quite-random recent images. Just because. First, a shot over our cowling as we headed out to find our collared elk in the Divide Country on Tuesday. As I take that shot, the pilot is scanning the receiver resting on his thigh, trying to guess which of several beeping elk collars is the closest. Me, I've just finished putting my wallet away, after digging out my ancient library card to scrape the frost off the side window for picture taking. (I broke the even more ancient Sears card on my first attempt.) Seconds after taking this picture, I realize I haven't turned on the GPS yet. Kind of essential when you're planning on recording the locations of these elk, you know. Problem is, I know it's been sitting on the dash of the truck in sub-zero weather, which means it's going to be slow getting started. And, until it gets warmed under my arm, the LCD will change screens even slower, overlapping one display on top of the other. But all was well and functional by the time we were tracking the first elk, just on the other side of the towers. This second shot is the little pinwheel the wife set in front of the house by the squirrel feeder last spring. Somehow, it just looks horribly sad and pathetic now, rather than brightening. Whatever we waste in the way of grain products is not wasted, but instead goes into the backyard to feed birds. Yielding this unique snow angel: In this case, they were coming in for stale cheetos. Heh. Birds flying around with bright orange on their beaks... And finally, the most melancholy shot of the batch. Our masked heeler, waiting patiently for a taste of cake at our recent birthday celebration. Her opaque, unseeing eyes so obvious. Her maskless sister watches each and every forkful that you pass to your face, but this girl stares blankly at nothing. Unmoving. Just waiting. She's been going down the stairs to the office her entire life, and they haven't changed a bit. But in the last couple weeks or so, she's been going down them one stair at a time. More than half the whipped cream I offered her on a spoon this evening ended up on the ground. And she walked away, wanting her spillage, but knowing she couldn't find it. (Her sister happily cleaned up.) Yeah, I went to the fridge and gave her a full mouthful straight from the can, but it didn't make any difference. She knows what she can't do. It is inevitable. And she will adapt. But it's still sad. |
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