2026—Landing at SEA-TAC

The clouds were a welcome sight as we approached SEA-TAC yesterday morning. We were delayed leaving Sacramento because of a minor mechanical issue and then prevented from taking off from there because of traffic in Seattle. By the time we were cleared for take off, it was clear I was not going to make my connecting flight to Anchorage. I’m headed to Kodiak and luckily our flight from Anchorage to Kodiak is this afternoon so my delays yesterday won’t affect my getting to Kodiak. Despite the disappointing delays, we had Joan, the most marvelous Delta flight attendant, who kept us all informed of how the delays would affect the connecting flights of many passengers, including recalculating wheels down time to give passengers a realistic idea of whether they could make their flights. The delays eventually caused missed connections for at least three flights, mine included, but one group had a chance. What amazed me was that passengers actually listened to Joan who asked that we all stay in our seats until those passengers, all coming from the rear of the plane, could walk to the front of the plane. I have heard flight attendants ask this and rarely do passengers comply. It kind of restored my faith in people. And, Joan was determined to keep her passengers happy so she gave me some extra bloody and some extra Mary for my Bloody Mary. A nice way to relax after realizing I was going to be spending my day in the airport. Taken with iPhone 16 Pro.

2026—His Prayers Were Answered

Yesterday afternoon when I noticed that three of the hummingbird feeders were empty, I decided to refill them before I started cooking dinner. As I entered the kitchen with the three feeders, two in my right hand, one in the left, I felt a soft tickle and looked to see some bright green leaves on the back of my left hand. I quickly realized that the leaves were moving and that it was a large Praying Mantis not leaves. The Carol of the past would have shrieked and shaken it off her hand and run out of the room. Well, I must admit I let out a loud epithet and I did shake it off my hand onto the kitchen floor but the Carol of today didn’t run out of the room. Since there was no one else around to deal with the situation, I took a deep breath, put on my big girl pants, got a glass out of the cupboard and placed it on top of the Praying Mantis. Then I scooped it up with a piece of mail laying nearby and calmly walked out to the patio and dropped it onto a lavender plant. It stayed there, cleaning its antennae and its feet. I already had my 105 macro lens on the camera so I took a few shots. He looks like his prayers were answered.

2026—Siesta Time

Yesterday afternoon I was practicing with my long lens on a tripod with the Wildlife head to make sure I was up to speed on using it since I’ve been home for a while and haven’t used this combo in a while. Not much was going on outside so I set up the tripod inside. When I looked out to see if Spike was there, sure enough he was, sound asleep. I put one leg of the tripod outside, turned the lens in Spike’s direction and fired away. He didn’t wake up even when another hummer showed up and buzzed around one of the nearby crepe myrtles. It wasn’t long before Spike sensed something because he suddenly looked up and zoomed off to protect the other feeder, quickly returning and falling asleep again. And, it looks like Spike’s got only one spike left, on the top of his head.

2026—Rare Sighting

Yesterday’s CBS Evening News reported on the sighting of a rare bird in California, the Purple Gallinule, that is bringing bird lovers to Irvine where a young Purple Gallinule has found itself at the Irvine Ranch Water district’s San Joaquin Marsh and Wildlife Sanctuary. It is only the eighth documented sighting of this bird in California. I am from California and I have seen this bird many times but just never in California. I appreciate the fact that I have been privileged to see and photograph this bird, as an adult, not in California but in Florida.

2026—Choices

In a couple of weeks, I’ll be back in Kodiak, Alaska photographing Kodiak Brown Bears. I am excited to be returning to that pristine world and to watching these massive bears consume equally massive amounts of salmon. As we drifted along the Uganik River last September, this bear looked up at us while it munched on the remains of a salmon carcass on the shoreline. It seemed not to notice the fish paddling near the surface between us, dorsal fin and tail protruding from the water. The bear had a choice. It could continue to consume what remained or chase after a moving fish. It made a choice to keep munching on what it had in its claws.

2026—He Has A Name

My little Anna’s Hummingbird has a name! I realized that I have to call him Spike. His head is covered with spiky looking pin feathers surrounding his eyes and under his beak. When they emerge, they are itchy and in this image, Spike is vigorously scratching those itchy pin feathers. Spike, it is!

2026—And Night Turns to Dawn

While I was in Monument Valley a couple of weeks ago, I set a camera to run all night on my balcony to capture the stars as they moved across the sky. Although I had some user error glitches, I did manage to capture the night sky as it gave way to the dawn. Because the exposure was a 13 second exposure, a satellite appears as a straight line as it moves through the sky.

2026—My New Friend

The little Anna’s Hummingbird that I introduced on my blog the other day seems to be my new friend. He sits on the same perch overlooking one of the feeders throughout the day and he doesn’t seem at all bothered by my presence when I plop down a few feet away with my camera and my morning coffee. He does chase away the occasional interloper but returns. I’m enjoying getting acquainted but I still haven’t come up with a name for him.

2026—West Mitten

When I shoot sunrise from my balcony at The View in Monument Valley, West Mitten Butte usually only appears in images when I use a wide angle lens. Because the sun rises behind East Mitten, I tend to zoom in on East Mitten and I ignore West Mitten. One morning, though, the colors in the sky were gorgeous and West Mitten deserved some attention.

2026—Wing Stretch

For the first time in a very long time, I spent early morning on my patio with a cup of coffee, the soothing sounds of the gurgling of my fountain, and of course, my hummers. It’s been so long since I’ve just sat and watched and talked to them that I didn’t think they’d be comfortable around me but this guy perched just a few feet away from me, nodded off a couple times, defended his feeders from other hummers, looked over at me occasionally, and finally, after about half an hour, stretched his wings and flew off. He’s got a cluster of pin feathers emerging behind his left eye. I think he’s one of the three male Anna’s Hummingbirds who grew up here last year. I’m going to have to think of a name for him.

2026—Starry Night

I wasn’t expecting to see the Milky Way while I was in Monument Valley but when I looked out from my balcony on our first night there, I could see the Milky Way over Mitchell Mesa. There were a few unidentified anomalous phenomena (UAP) streaking through the sky (or perhaps only slogging through since this was a 13 second exposure) but they were there. UAP is apparently the PC way to describe what used to be known as UFOs. What amazed me was the sheer number of stars filling the sky.