Friday, December 31, 2010

Duffy, the girls & a partially frozen river


Last night my outside thermometer read 28 degrees.  When it got up to about 40 this morning, I took the Duffy and the girls to the river.  The river had been dry just a few days ago, but then about an inch of rain fell and it began flowing again. 

I decided to hike the southern border of the river, but as we hiked along I could hear what sounded like a chain saw up ahead.  I knew it wasn’t that, and that it was teen-aged kids trying out their Two-Cycle Dirt-bike Christmas presents.  It happens every year.  I hear the new bikes roar up and down on routes we sometimes hike.  Bikes from the previous year are brought out to keep the new bike owners company, but because they haven’t been used in months, they won’t run reliably; so they sound like chain saws sawing firewood for the winter.

Thinking that some of these bikes were up ahead I decided to drop down and see if I could find enough dry river bottom to hike past.  Shoot, only an inch had fallen about three days ago.  Surely it run off by now.  But it hadn’t.  Furthermore some of it in shady spots was frozen.  We crunched along and eventually got to the end of a sand bar.  The river was flowing past on all sides.  We had to turn back.  All the while we were accompanied by the menacing sound of chain saws.

We retraced our sodden steps, climbed back up to where we were and lumbered (I lumbered) Duffy and the girls danced on ahead.   After hiking a bit I learned that the bikes were on the other side of the river and only sounded as though they were on our side.









Thursday, December 30, 2010

Duffy’s Joy





How to tell when Duffy is having fun


[Using the E-520 with a 40-150mm digital Zuiko lens on a windy morning, 12-30-2010]






Sunday, December 26, 2010

Indispensable Duffy


If you’d asked me last year to tote everything up list anything I was missing, my list would have been short and if it contained a dog it might have looked very like Sage.

But then Duffy was added, and in a very short time he has become extremely important.  This cocky little fifteen-pound fearless Schnoodle has carved out his own place in my life.  A year ago I couldn’t have imagined him as significant, but now he is indispensable. 

I imagine I have conveyed something of Sage, and occasionally I get a good shot of Ginger, but Duffy is all shape and no detail.  I keep trying to capture something, and I keep failing.







Close-ups with the 50mm OM lens



Below I caught Sage in the middle of a yawn.  She has a way of looking good no matter what she does.


Whimsical Duffy


And spectacular Sage:


Muddy river


Some might think it a sad thing when a flowing river loses its mountain supply and slowly gives way to mud, but not everyone feels sad: