Missing Sunset

Posted by dkrashb on January 11, 2013

New view at sunrise–well, it would be sunrise if the sun actually rose on this day

Watching sunset from our old place

When major changes happen in life, whether they are changes we wished for and chose or changes that came unexpectedly and outside our control, they come with a combination of loss and gain.

When we choose the change, we tend to focus on the gain. When we don’t, we think more about the loss.

I suppose this is only natural. When unexpected change happens to us, we were probably not really wanting anything to be different. When we choose change, we usually do so because we’re unhappy or dissatisfied with some situation; we presumably perceive the new situation as better or we wouldn’t have chosen it.

But I have a theory. My theory is that we are at least as likely, if not more likely, to end up happier when change happens to us than when we choose change.

Same sunset, earlier

We go willingly forward into change we choose with high expectations that making this choice will have a long-term, positive effect on how happy we are. But, as my husband says, “you’re still you.” We can move, change jobs, buy cars, take classes, earn degrees, have children, start a new hobby, but we still take ourselves with us. The joy in the new change fades and we are right back where we started.

That is not to say we cannot change and grow. Only that making changes in our life situation rarely results in us becoming happier people unless those changes are preceded by a lot of soul searching to figure out what exactly we’re really dissatisfied with.

On the flip side, when an unexpected change comes along (assuming, of course, the unexpected change wasn’t anonymously receiving the winning lottery ticket), we have the opportunity to rally our courage, face the unknown, and rise to the occasion.

Sky full of gray over our new view

We don’t go into these changes with the expectation that we’re going to be happier. We go into them with a sense of mourning and loss and the determination to get through somehow. There is only an upside. Plus, it’s the scary, out of control life events that motivate us to do the kind of soul searching required to make lasting change.

I think of all the times that someone has said, “it was the best thing that ever happened to me” about something that was initially perceived as awful. I try to think of an example of any change I have chosen in my life situation that resulted in me saying that. So far, every one of them comes with caveats.

For example, we decided to move last month. Not exactly true to our nomadic intentions, we moved about 500 yards. I’m not sorry we moved–it’s quieter, the neighbors are great, and we now have 2 bathrooms (that’s a big plus!)–but there are still some downsides. For one, I miss the sunsets and sunrises from the roof. Perhaps it’s more because the weather has been so gray lately, but I really want to see the sun soon.

Last bit of sunset from old view

The sun is rising, but not within view–we get to see fog over the ridge

Tisen and Twiggy

Posted by dkrashb on January 10, 2013

Tisen and Twiggy decide to raise their heads long enough for a photo op

Over the holidays we had one of our favorite guests–Twiggy. Twiggy is also a favorite of Tisen’s.

Some say that dogs have the intelligence of about a 2 year old human. But if flirting techniques are any indicator, I’d say Tisen performs at the level of a 7 or 8 year old. His favorite way to get Twiggy to pay attention to him is to stick a toy in her face and then make growly noises at her. It’s like the little boy who keeps pulling a little girl’s hair.

Twiggy is the master of hard-to-get. She ignores Tisen unless she feels like demonstrating that females are not the weaker sex. She nips at Tisen’s legs when she wants to engage. He invariably turns and mouths her neck. She body-blocks him, using her height to her advantage, and then reaches around to grab hold of him with her mouth and knock him to the ground. She often flips him completely onto his back.

Tisen, like the 7-year old human, is grateful for any attention Twiggy gives him. He’s happy to wrestle with her even if he loses. I sometimes imagine he loses on purpose so Twiggy will like him more. But, in reality, Twiggy is better at wrestling.

The two of them bound toward one another like a reuniting Heathcliff and Katherine after a separation. But, more like one of those funny commercials, Twiggy invariably switches direction at the last second and runs to me instead of Tisen. This makes Tisen doubly jealous–both his favorite canine and his favorite human paying attention to someone else. But, he can’t be too jealous–he loves us both.

Every time Twiggy comes to stay, she and Tisen seem to get a little cozier. They went from taking turns sleeping on the sofa while the other slept on the floor, to each choosing an opposite end of the sofa, to now curling up together in the same spot. Sometimes, the spot is me. I wish I’d figured out how to take pictures of this–they piled up on top of me like I was part of the furniture. At one point, Tisen was literally straddling Twiggy while she was laying in my lap.

Tisen lifts his head from Twiggy’s back when he sees my camera

Making a puppy pile seems to be quite comfortable for them. As for me, I seem to end up with bruises from foot steps, sharp elbows, and hard heads. But, I have to admit, it’s so cute that I don’t discourage this behavior.

Another change has been the stealing of beds. Each dog wants to be in the other dog’s bed. But, as soon as the other dog is in a bed, that’s the one the other dog wants. This time around, they eventually shared a bed.

I’m not sure I was supposed to let them sleep together, but I figured they were old enough to make up their own minds. Besides, they’re old enough that all they wanted to do was sleep.

Tisen and Twiggy stopped fighting over the bed and decided to share it

Raptor Experience

Posted by dkrashb on January 9, 2013

Artie always impresses his new friends

It’s been a while since I’ve posted about S.O.A.R.–Save Our American Raptors. This is a fantastic, and very tiny, organization that cares for about a dozen or so unreleaseable birds of prey, making a life-long commitment to care for birds that may outlive the current organizers.

These birds stay fit and happy by participating in educational programs that help spread awareness of the importance of predators to our ecosystem and provide an up-close, one-of-a-kind experience for the human participants.

Unfortunately, not all of the birds can fly. Some have eye injuries and wing injuries that make flight impossible for them. The ones that can fly usually are human-imprints that cannot or will not return to the wild because they perceive humans as their parents. Cayce, the black vulture, as a case-in-point, has been released to the wild three times only to return to her human parents.

Not a great shot, but Cayce is usually the star of the show, playing with the visitors and flying for them

S.O.A.R. offers an opportunity to have an intimate experience with their birds called “The Raptor Experience.” This is actually how I first met Dale and John, the birds caretakers and directors in the organization. About a year ago, I saw their poster at the Lookout Mountain Flight Park when we were taking hang gliding lessons. Pat and I called and scheduled our experience and were amazed by the whole thing.

This participant enjoys meeting Buddy, an Eastern Screech Owl

Since that time, I’ve been volunteering for S.O.A.R. whenever and however they need me. When Dale called me over the holidays and asked if I could assist her with a Raptor Experience, I was thrilled to have the opportunity.

Two couples and a friend arrived at the S.O.A.R. location in a van driven by Dale. Because the road back to S.O.A.R. is a bit tough on the suspension, Dale or John meets attendees at a nice, smooth parking lot a couple miles away and then shuttles them to the site. Sometimes the ride up can be a bit of a thrill–slick mud made for some tricky maneuvering on this particular day, but Dale’s experience negotiating the road makes it a very safe ride.

Artie watches his new friend carefully, probably hoping he’ll get petted (he did)

I helped get birds out, put them on gloves, and talked about them in a sort-of tag-team with Dale. I realized that while I think I know a lot about the birds, I have much to learn.

The owls are always a favorite for visitors–perhaps because they’re the only raptors in the program who enjoy being petted. If you scratch the back of Artie’s neck just right, he rolls his head back, his eyelids close and you could almost swear you hear him moan.

Jerry enjoys being petted, too.

Like Jerry and Buddy, the Eastern Screech Owls, Artie, a Barred Owl, was hit by a car. All 3 owls are unable to fly as a result of their injuries. Most people are surprised when they hear the owls were hit by cars, but statistically, this is the most common way that owls are injured.

Maybe we should put up owl crossing signs?

Theo like to flap a lot–he’s one of the human-imprints that can still fly

Atsa Yazi, the littlest eagle, is a small male Bald Eagle who was shot when he was only a year old, costing him his wing

Shooting Jellies

Posted by dkrashb on January 8, 2013

My favorite photo op in the jelly fish department

I have often said that if I had to have an office with no window, I would want a huge aquarium of well-lit jellyfish. They may not be cute and I can’t say they make me laugh, but there is something indescribably soothing about their movement through the water.

They also make for a fascinating photographic subject, if a difficult one. I imagine if I were a diver, I might have less difficulty, but then I realize I would probably end up among an entire smack of jellyfish (yes, I googled to find out what you call a group of them–seems appropriate given what it feels like to be stung) and wide up with some fatal amount of jellyfish stings. Plus, underwater shooting creates its own set of difficulties.

They always look upside down to me–I was tempted to rotate this photo

Fortunately, the Tennessee Aquarium offers far safer photo ops of a wide variety of jellies. My personal favorites are the West Coast Sea Nettles when it comes to shooting. They have lovely colors, they’re large and I tend to get a little less reflection off their tank since it’s flat and the lighting is relatively good. Of course, it’s still a bit challenging to get a sharp photo. Besides the thick glass between my lens and the jellies, the lighting is still dim and the amount of movement happening throughout the body of the jelly requires a relatively fast shutter speed. At the same time, they are 3-dimensional, which means greater depth of field is required for a shot that has more than one small portion in focus.

By shooting this at ISO 10,000, I was able to use a 1/100 of a second shutter speed. By shooting between 32-64mm focal length, I got better depth of field at an f/5.6 aperture. The head of the jelly (if that’s what you call it) gets a bit fuzzy in the brightest parts–I’m not sure if that’s due to movement or the high ISO setting. All-in-all, I’m impressed by the lack of noise at a 10,000 ISO setting–my 40D would have been noisier than this at 800 ISO.

Looking at the group of nettles together, I try to imagine what it would be like to encounter a large smack in the ocean

I also managed to remember that my camera will shoot video as well. Since it’s the movement of the jellies that fascinates me the most, I figured this was a good time to use them. Unfortunately, just because my camera can shoot video doesn’t mean I can. As this video demonstrates, I haven’t learned even the basics of how to get a decent video yet–although I do think I have good taste in background music ;-). All in time, I suppose.

Next trip, I will take a macro lens to see if I can get some good shots of the smaller jellies and their cousins. The Sea Walnut is little guy I particularly want to shoot–their bodies reflect light in such a way that it looks like colorful lightening is going off inside them.

New Tricks

Posted by dkrashb on January 7, 2013

Menacing yet living peacefully with so many fish

The Secret Reef display at the Tennessee Aquarium is yet another place where one can easily lose track of time. The tank extends from the top to the bottom of the Ocean Journey building with ramps that lead visitors deeper and deeper until you end on the ground floor with the reef over your head.

This provides ample viewing opportunities to see animals at all depths of the tank. If the sea turtle happens to be surfacing for air, you can see it at the top. If it happens to be eating, you’ll see it a couple floors down, and if it decides to take a nap, you might also see it on the bottom. If you’re really lucky, you’ll get to see it at all the levels.

The sharks seem to float through the center of the tank, mostly. They are the most ferocious looking of the creatures in the tank, yet they float docilely by the rest of the members of the community. I have to imagine that they don’t eat their neighbors–the aquarium couldn’t afford to keep replacing them. My theory is that even a species that’s been around since the time of the dinosaurs can learn new tricks when its well fed.

My other favorite residents are the two green sea turtles. Stewie is a giant–or at least he looks giant compared to the size of the rest of the inhabitants. Every time he floats into view I think of the Disc World series by Terry Pratchett. For those of you who are not geeks, this is a sci-fi/fantasy series of books that take place on a planet that rides on the backs of 4 elephants who are, in turn, riding on the back of a giant sea turtle who swims through space. Presumably he’s much larger than Stewie.

Stewie swims out of the shadows, giving us a clear view of his stout tail

Doesn’t Stewie look like he could carry a planet through space?

When I see Stewie, I find myself thinking perhaps it is not completely preposterous that a planet might be propelled through space on the back of a sea turtle. Although, the books are, of course, tongue-in-cheek.

Stewie poses briefly

The other sea turtle bopping about in the secret reef tank is Oscar. Oscar has a bit of a story. The first time we ever saw Oscar, he was wedged under a rock at the bottom of the tank and appeared to be dead. Apparently visitors report a dead sea turtle in the tank every time Oscar takes a nap (which is a daily occurrence).

In reality, Oscar was rescued following a collision with a boat. He lost most of his back flippers and ended up with air trapped under his shell. As a result, he floats abnormally for a sea turtle. So, he wedges his head under a rock and his rear-end floats toward the top, looking very odd indeed. Fortunately for Oscar, he’s doing quite well at the Tennessee Aquarium and has quite the fan club.

Who says you can’t teach an old turtle new tricks?

Stewie turns slowly having noticed food

Poppin’ Penguins

Posted by dkrashb on January 6, 2013

These guys played statue for me

I love penguins. I suspect this started in childhood. Mr. Popper’s Penguins was one of my favorite stories. I fantasized for weeks about how to build a giant ice sculpture for the penguins I wanted to live in our basement.

Imagine my surprise when I saw my first live penguin display and there was no ice. Seems penguins do just fine without it–at least the species in the aquariums and zoos I’ve been to. The important ingredient seems to be making sure they have a place to swim.

My adult fantasy has nothing to do with taking penguins home with me (taking care of a dog is enough responsibility), but with getting a great shot of one of them popping out of the water.

It fascinates me how they can build up so much speed underwater in a relatively short distance that when they decide to beach, they can propel themselves straight up into the air and land on their feet. It’s the equivalent to flaring a hang glider to land, except that they are moving in the opposite direction of gravity and through the resistance of water.

Alas, the penguins do not accommodate me. In all of my visits to the Tennessee Aquarium, I have either been behind crowds of children and couldn’t get an angle on a popping penguin or the penguins weren’t popping. On our latest visit, they weren’t popping.

One of the few penguins in the water glided along slowly

Rather than demonstrating their underwater and water-exiting talents, they swam rather lazily like they’d just eaten and were afraid of getting a cramp. They waddled about in their penguin waddle way and made noises at each other up on the surface. This was amusing in and of itself.

Moving awkwardly across the surface

Any of the young penguins that had recently hatched the last time we visited had either become full-fledged, and undistinguishable, adults, or been sent elsewhere. Gone were the rock nests and none of the penguins were stealing rocks from others. They were, however, stealing fish.

They cackled at each other and sword-fought with their beaks, although no one actually tried to land a jab. They seem to be arguing about the rations each bird was entitled to from their recently served meal. From the looks of them, there’s plenty of food to go around.

This guy really wants all the fish

I particularly enjoyed watching one getting ready to enter the water. He waddled over to the edge, slowly raised a foot like he was going to do a dramatic dive into the water, and then hopped down to a lower ledge that was all of 3 inches below the water line. Apparently he wasn’t up for a swim yet, but felt like wading.

This guy thought long and hard before deciding to get closer to the waters edge

Making a less than dramatic entrance into the water, this guy plopped instead of popped

One of these days I’m going to take a day off when all the kids are in school and go sit myself in front of the penguins all day long until I catch one of those little men in tuxedos popping out of the water.

In the meantime, I might have to go re-read Mr. Popper’s Penguins.

Open Mouths

Posted by dkrashb on January 5, 2013

Continuing our visit to the Tennessee Aquarium, I discovered a topic I never expected to write a blog post about. Let’s talk about mouths for a moment, shall we?

Some mouths are terrifying. Think Jaws. Think Tyrannosaurus Rex. Now, think Alligator. Not so very different, in my book, than thinking about being bitten by a dinosaur. After all, the American Alligator actually did live with the dinosaurs.

Even sleeping the alligator looks menacing

The relatively small Alligator that lives in a rather cushy environment in the Tennessee Aquarium by Alligator standards (I should think), chose a rather interesting spot to hang out for an afternoon nap. The only thing that would have made his choice of places to sleep better would have been if the glass would have been antiglare. Since I can’t imagine the aquarium staff has been training the alligator to nap where it can be viewed up close, I’m guessing this little nook was designed to be exactly what an alligator looks for when it comes to nap nooks to increase the odds that visitors would get to admire this guy’s teeth up close. They sure are white. There is something disturbing about an animal whose teeth are so prominent they don’t fit inside its mouth when it’s closed.

I think this might be as close to cuddling as alligators get

Catfish are another creature that has a scary mouth. They also co-habitated with T-Rex. Perhaps I have stumbled upon a pattern? While the teeth of a catfish may not be so prominent or sharp as the alligator’s, there is just something downright menacing about the way their mouth looks to me. It comes as no surprise that there are several types of catfish who have been rumored to kill people (although not substantiated). This catfish was enormous. While not even close to the top of the scale for big catfish, he seemed big enough to swallow a small child whole. I don’t think this catfish actually has any interest in eating small children, fortunately. His markings make me think of my dog, making him a whole lot cuter than most catfish.

This guy doesn’t look so scary with his back turned

The next in our series of mouths is a crazy turtle. An alligator snapping turtle, to be exact. Unfortunately, his lure doesn’t show in the shot (through thick glass), but this guy hangs out with his mouth open and wiggles a lure that is part of his tongue to attract fish. An underwater fisherman. I’m just guessing, but I suspect this guy may be even older than the alligator–he looks like a rock.

So frozen people stop to ask if he’s dead, this guy waits for imaginary fish to swim by

I don’t recall the name of the next open-mouth participant in today’s post. I assume he is gathering something edible by filtering the water, but he kept swimming around with checks billowing like sails. I missed a shot of the inside of his mouth reflecting light and shimmering like a silver bowl. He just glided by with his billowing mouth below his paddle of a nose looking some sort of bizarre submarine.

If this doesn’t speak to the diversity of the planet, I don’t know what does

This guy’s cheeks puff out as he takes in water while swimming with a wide open mouth

In the end, I was the one who left open-mouthed.

Otters and Smiles

Posted by dkrashb on January 4, 2013

This playful otter had quite a routine established–he used every inch of his tank that simulated a rushing river

There are certain things in life that make it impossible not to smile. A toddler laughing. A dog wagging like mad. An amazing sunset. And otters.

Who can possibly watch otters at play without smiling?

The Tennessee Aquarium has otters in their River Journey display. I have been to the aquarium at least a dozen times in the past year and a half. The otters have always been sleeping. Otters sleeping are cute, but not quite so provocative of a smile as when they’re playing. Discovering they were wide awake and having a ball on our recent visit with friends was quite a joy for me.

One might think the otter needed a rest, but he really was looking for a diving board

The Otter takes a spinning leap as he makes a dramatic dive back into the water

This might have been a great time to switch over to the video mode on my camera. But, alas, I keep forgetting it will shoot video. So, I have created a video from a series of rapid fire stills instead. I didn’t actually shoot with the intention of making a video, so there are gaps. The biggest gap is that I missed when they were swimming upside down. How is it that otters can swim upside down as easily as right side up? According to the National Geographic website, they can close their ears and noses. I imagine that would be a big advantage during graceful rolls and swirls through the water.

The first time I thought I saw a river otter in the wild was in Colorado. As it turned out, it was a beaver. When it smacked its flat tail against the water at us, I realized my mistake. In retrospect, a sea otter would be closer to the size of a beaver than a river otter, so I really should have known it was a beaver. Seeing a beaver was pretty exciting, but I’ve always wanted to see wild otters at play. So far, the closest I’ve come is when we saw river otters in a mountain lake near Mt. Hood in Oregon last fall. They were fun to watch, but we were a bit far away to get to see much besides their heads when they would pop back to the surface after diving for fish.

The only pair of wild river otters I’ve ever seen taking a break from fishing in Oregon

River Otters are one of the many creatures I envy. They are perfectly equipped for their lifestyle. They have all the special features they need to not just survive through cold winters and hot summers, but to thrive in them. They embrace their lifestyle with verve and frolic through life.

Of course, there are downsides. For one, they are apparently very vulnerable to environmental pollutants. For another, that warm, waterproof coat is something humans want to have. They had disappeared from much of the country as a result. Fortunately, through reintroduction and habitat management, they’ve made quite the comeback and are even considered a nuisance in some localized areas. However, there are still many parts of the country that have very few river otters. These must be the parts of the country I usually go hiking in. I keep hoping, though.

Sharing Wonder

Posted by dkrashb on January 3, 2013

I think it was a Tulip Snail–whatever it was called, it was beautiful reflected against the glass

Why is it that going to the same old places seems like a special treat when sharing it with someone for the first time? While our friends were visiting after Christmas, we took them on a whirlwind tour of the Tennessee Aquarium.

These little guys are so fascinating to watch, I can’t imagine what soulless person could harvest them

The ever-changing colors of the seahorses as they move through the tank makes for great camouflage

I haven’t been to the aquarium for a few months now, but I really thought I’d seen everything there was to see there. Yet, seeing it with someone new always makes me look more closely. I go into the experience with nervous anticipation–I want my friends to be wowed. I want to feel the pride of a “native” about the really cool things my chosen town has to offer. I don’t know if this is because, in part, I feel guilty about having moved away and I want my friends to understand what is so attractive about this place. But, honestly, I felt the same way taking visitors to interesting places in Columbus. I don’t know what it is about a town that makes a person identify with it. Is it just the desire to show someone a good time? Or is there really some underlying insecurity that makes me feel like if they think the aquarium is lame, I’m also lame because I love it? I think about going out to eat with people who recommend a restaurant and choking down barely edible food with a smile because I like these people and I feel like it would somehow be a personal insult to them if I admitted that I hated food they loved. What I don’t quite get is why we care (excuse me for presuming I’m not the only one who does). Some people prefer chocolate ice cream while others prefer vanilla. It’s not a comment on someone’s value as a human being. Yet, it’s so much more fun to share something with someone when they really enjoy it than when they just fake it.

I don’t remember if these are pipe fish or not, but they were easy to walk by without noticing

I’m happy to report Georgia and George genuinely enjoyed the aquarium–they made it more fun for us, too. Their fascination with the floating jelly fishes made me appreciate the jellies all over again. Their enthusiasm about the river and ocean tanks made me see it like it was the first time. Georgia’s willingness to touch a sturgeon had me dipping my arm into the tank right along side her. They don’t have scales like other fish–they feel very smooth.

We also caught part of a Ranger Rick show that featured a bird I’ve never seen before–a Trumpeter Hornbill. For those of you who do not remember Ranger Rick, he was a cartoon raccoon and the name of a children’s magazine about nature. The aquarium has Ranger Rick shows for children, but I didn’t see many kids in the audience. The most amazing thing the Hornbill did was catch a grape in mid-air that was tossed just a few feet in front of it. They need better lighting for photos, but it was still pretty cool.

The Trumpeter Hornbill catches a grape in a mid-air maneuver that seems impossible

The Trumpeter Hornbill returns to its handler after flying across the room

Welcoming 2013

Posted by dkrashb on January 2, 2013

Interesting clouds over Chattanooga

Having embarrassed myself yet again by writing my blog post way too late at night, I thought I would try writing at a decent hour tonight.

In honor of the new year, it seems only appropriate to think about what I’d like 2013 to be like. As some of you may recall from last year, I am a bit of a resolution-phobe. But, it is always good to reflect on a year past and thinking about what things should come forward and which things I’d like to leave behind.

Unreleasable Prairie Falcon in Oregon

First, I have enjoyed exploring the world through a camera regularly over the past year and a half. I don’t think I’ve gone more than 2 weeks without shooting in 2012. This has provided me with a new way of looking at the world that I can only describe as a sense of careful observation combined with vast appreciation. I notice things I have not noticed in the past. I wait for things to unfold with a patience I have trouble finding without a camera. I work at getting better with both acceptance that I am imperfect and faith that I can improve. All in all, photography gives me joy and hope. This is something I want to keep in 2013.

Parking lot in Portland, OR

Second, during some parts of 2012, I managed to strike a balance between the things I love to do and the things I have to do. I lost that balance and now I want it back. Taking time out to bike, row, hike, do yoga, and bird/teach keeps me feeling happy and makes me better at everything else I do. I don’t have to do any of them really well, I just have to set aside all the things worrying me and go enjoy some time on my bike, on the river, on the mountain, on the mat, or with the birds. It’s a simple formula that requires making room in my schedule. This is something I want to regain in 2013 and I don’t want to wait for the weather to get warmer.

Assisting at a Wings to Awareness educational program for 3rd graders

Third, I really enjoy the time we spend with family and friends. Living remotely from many of the folks in those categories makes that tough. For 2013, I’d like to have more contact with more people I feel close to whether it’s over the phone, in person, or via FaceTime, these are the people who keep me grounded.

Sharing Point Park with family last summer

Finally, I have occasionally written about finding peace and, through finding it internally, creating it externally. That’s really what the previous 3 things are about–creating a sense of internal peace that help contribute to more happiness in the world. It seems like a small contribution, but as the Dali Lama said: “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” Besides, a small contribution towards happiness is better than a small contribution towards anguish. A compassionate, peaceful life. That’s what I look forward to in 2013.

Enjoying a well-earned view after a 5-mile hike on Lookout Mountain

Getting onto the water not quite gracefully

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Combining living on the road with a mainstream lifestyle

Monthly Archives: January 2013