Author Archives: dkrashb

Another Year

Posted by dkrashb on
Don't know this one's name, but I like it--and the dew covered spider web

Don’t know this one’s name, but I like it–and the dew covered spider web

If New Year’s isn’t enough of a reminder that another year has passed, my birthday comes as a second reminder that time is flying.

I’d like to think that means I’m having fun.  And, I suppose I am.  But as I find myself crossing over the mid-point between 40 and 50, my breath catches in my throat as I choke back the shock.  How exactly did that happen?

A youthful wood ear

A youthful wood ear

Immediately, I start to list the endless list of things I haven’t done that I was sure I would have done long before now.  But I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.  I tell myself, “I am enough.”  I think that’s my new mantra.

Shelf-forming fungus against a bed of moss

Shelf-forming fungus against a bed of moss

So, if I am enough and my life is enough, what has my life been about?  In a word, I’d have to say if you take my life and add it all up, it comes to a work in progress.  And that’s enough.

Fungus or sculpture?

Fungus or sculpture?

In the interest of celebrating, here are random moments/experiences from my life I am grateful for:

  • Climbing trees and clinging to the branches while the tree swayed in the wind.
  • Swinging so high the swing would go above the top bar and then jerk on its way back down.
  • The warm feeling of sharing a smile.
  • Watching my nephews grow into amazing young men.
  • Friends.  Especially friends who know me and remind me my flawed and imperfect self is enough.
  • Every dog I have ever known and especially those I have shared a lifetime in dog years with.
  • The moments when I managed, in spite of the improbability, to do the exact right thing to connect with someone in way that left us both feeling like we mattered.
  • Fireflies and the childhood delight of watching them flash their lights against my skin just before floating off, back into the night.
  • Having parents who supported me when I took chances and helped nurse me back to health when the odds didn’t go my way.
  • Having followed my teenage dream of working with horses far enough to have no regrets over giving it up.
  • The day I knew, absolutely knew without a doubt, my husband loved me.
  • The feeling of being a millionaire when I bought my first piece of real furniture even though it was a damaged floor sample.
  • Soaring downhill on my bike with no hands, fingers spread wide to catch the wind whistling between them.
  • The foresight and caring of a friend who got me to the hospital in time to hold my mother’s hand while she died.
  • Standing on top of Half Dome feeling like I had just conquered the world.
  • Bad boyfriends without whom I couldn’t have appreciated good ones.
  • Having a father who could talk me through disassembling a garbage disposal to remove a clog and reassembling it over the phone.
  • The day I realized women should be allies, not enemies.
  • Every time my husband plays one of his songs for me.
A wood ear looking like it's getting ready to take a walk

A wood ear looking like it’s getting ready to take a walk

 

This is what happens when you live with too many regrets

This is what happens when you live with too many regrets

 

Flowers and Fungi

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These early bloomers captured rain drops

These early bloomers captured rain drops

On a nature walk on Saturday, we were surprised to discover spring wild flowers in full bloom tucked amongst the leaf litter on the forest floor.  I don’t remember the name of these blooms, but they are often among the earliest to appear in the spring.  The thing is, it’s not spring.  We haven’t even reached Imbolc yet–it seems horribly risky for a delicate spring flower to appear so early.

The likelihood that it will manage to set seed before the weather turns too cold for survival seems very slim.  But it blooms anyway.

A completely different kind of "bloom"

A completely different kind of “bloom”

A flower, presumably, doesn’t ask questions about risk and reward.  It simply responds to the external events of water, sun, and temperature.  It doesn’t check the calendar before the seed begins to sprout.  Collectively, perhaps the seeds will have slightly different trigger points and only a few will sprout now.  The rest will require more warmth longer before they come to life.  And, in this way (I hope), the next generation will come from the seeds whose triggers allowed them to survive long enough to produce more seed.

Wood ears may not quite qualify in our traditional definition of "bloom," but they sure are interesting

Wood ears may not quite qualify in our traditional definition of “bloom,” but they sure are interesting

If we think of these flowers as a single entity instead of individual flowers, perhaps the lesson is more applicable to us as individuals.  Otherwise it may be tempting to take a lesson along the traditional lines of “only the strong survive” when the reality is that often it is not the strong that survive, it is the timely.

If we think of those early bloomers as the first attempt in the process of trial and error, perhaps the lesson is more applicable to our own lives.  After all, being timely requires a lot of luck.  If we sit around dormant until the exact right time, we’ve already missed it when we realize it’s come.  But if we put up a few sprouts too early, we get to practice and practice some more.  And when the right time comes, we’re there, ready and blooming at just the right time.

Layers of mixed fungi make a fascinating display on a rotting log

Layers of mixed fungi make a fascinating display on a rotting log

Fungi work differently.  They largely reproduce via spores, which are different from seeds in that there’s no pollination.  While I know very little about fungi, reportedly, at least some of them produce spores on their own time clock without regard for environmental conditions.  Others require environmental factors that include nutrient levels, carbon dioxide levels, and and light levels (see microbiologybytes.com).  Another study I found suggests that atmospheric moisture (which I assume is the same thing as humidity) has the greatest impact on how much fungus grows.  This seems a bit like saying the ground will be wet when it rains to me–after all, do we really need a study to tell us that more humidity drives more fungal growth?

This is neither a flower nor a fungus--it's a Lichen

This is neither a flower nor a fungus–it may look like lettuce, but it’s a Lichen

That being beside the point, the continual, misting rain for the past few weeks has created a unique kind of bloom.  Although the fungi had faded a bit from their peak, there were still some really beautiful colonies.  Beautiful fungi–words I never expected to write together.

Final look at the more colorful fungus we saw

Final look at the more colorful fungus we saw

Holding Steady

Posted by dkrashb on
A shelled and partially chewed hickory nut lies on a bed of moss

A shelled and partially chewed hickory nut lies on a bed of moss

I went on a nature walk with the Chattanooga Audubon Society Saturday.  I ran late leaving because I was so engrossed in a book.   When I realized it was time to go, I grabbed my camera with a 100mm macro lens on it.

I haven’t shot macro in a long time.  This is in part because it takes a lot of time.  To get good macro shots, a tripod is essential and I spend a lot of the time on the ground, sometimes crawling through things I’d rather not crawl through.

But today, I decided to try shooting macro without the drama.  No tripod.  No garbage bag to lie on.  No loupe to check focus.  No reflector to bounce light.  No baggage to get in my way.  This has become my modus operandi of late–just grab the camera and one lens and see what I can get while I’m out doing something else.

I learned this often beautiful fungus (although past its prime here) is commonly called "Turkey Tail"

I learned this often beautiful fungus (although past its prime here) is commonly called “Turkey Tail”

Of course, reviewing my photos, I missed my equipment.  Standing in awkward positions, hovering over various fungi and tiny plants is not the best way to get sharp images.  But was I on a nature walk or was I doing macro photography?  I was on a nature walk and I happened to get a few shots I kind of like.  I also got a bunch of shots I don’t like at all and a few in between.

A funny fungus that's supposedly edible. Can't imagine it's good. Unfortunately, a little motion blur in this one

A funny fungus that’s supposedly edible. Can’t imagine it’s good. Unfortunately, a little motion blur in this one

A lot of photographers will not share photos they don’t think are really good.  No photo is perfect.  And at some point, it takes courage to say “this photo is enough” and share it.  In fact, it probably requires more courage to share something you think is really good than it does to share something you think is just good enough.  After all, if you really believe your work is fantastic and someone knocks it down, it hurts a lot more than if you didn’t think it was that great to begin with.

The entire length of this Box Elder looked like this--a deep carpet of bright green moss

The entire length of this Box Elder looked like this–a deep carpet of bright green moss

I find myself wondering if I am a coward hiding behind grab shots rather than putting something up that I really believe is beautifully executed.  Sometimes, not putting yourself all-in can indicate a lack of courage.  If I’m not all-in, you can’t hurt me–at least not all of me.

Here's something you don't expect to find in January--wild violets (a spring ephemeral) popping up

Here’s something you don’t expect to find in January–wild violets (a spring ephemeral) popping up

On the other hand, to be willing to do things halfway allows time and energy to do more.  After all, if I went on the nature walk without my camera, I would still be out shooting and not sitting here pondering the philosophical aspects of deciding to be a “real” photographer vs playing at being one when it’s convenient.

Ultimately, is going halfway an act of cowardice or just setting a limit that allows me to enjoy more?  I think the answer lies in how much I want to end up with better images–how passionate I feel about producing an image I’m proud of.

While I’m busy figuring it out, please enjoy what I’ve got.

Tisen has decided he's OK with my halfway photography (taken with iPhone)

Tisen has decided he’s OK with my halfway photography (taken with iPhone)

Finding a View

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There is a beam of light above the aquarium that didn't quite come out the way I wanted

There is a beam of light above the aquarium that didn’t quite come out the way I wanted

Since moving, I have been longing for a view of the riverfront.  Since this is achievable, I decided to take a few minutes away from Tisen (who has been a very clingy dog since Twiggy went home) to walk to the end of the hall where there is a common room with a balcony that overlooks the river and downtown.

The lighted tree reflects merrily on the water

The lighted tree reflects merrily on the water

I still missed sunset because I worked too late, but it’s possible the sun didn’t actually set today anyway–or, if it did, no one saw it.  Our weather has been shockingly like Seattle of late.  I fear my ties to Columbus, Ohio have somehow drug the weather down to Chattanooga.  The sun rises, but no one can tell if it’s risen or not.  The sun sets and no one notices much change in light.  We are on about our 4th straight day of such weather.  What is it about overcast skies and drizzling rain that becomes so depressing so quickly?

In spite of the dreary weather, the riverfront always looks cheerful

In spite of the dreary weather, the riverfront always looks cheerful

On the plus side, it’s warm.  It feels like a late spring day when summer is just around the corner.  The birds were singing so loudly this morning, they startled Tisen.  They are not the only ones confused–the shrubs are showing signs of recent new growth as if they suddenly burst into a mid-January growth spurt.

But in spite of the cheerful birds and warm mist, I am still hoping for the sun.  As a substitute, I did my best to shoot the mist.  It turns out it’s harder to get mist to show up in night time photos than I expected.

The Bluecross building bounced light into the fog on top of the hill above 27

The Bluecross building bounced light into the fog on top of the hill above 27

Long exposure times seem to make it disappear as it swirls in the wind, moving too much to leave an impression.  Short exposures make it too dark, blending in with the river, a pool of blackness except where it reflects light.  I finally went for high ISO settings to get more exposure out of shorter shutter speeds.

I like the fog at night.  It captures the city lights and reflects them back down in  night-time version of the sunset I missed.  While the colors and contrast in the sky may not be quite so obvious, I still enjoyed the view.

Fog rose off the river and swirled around the Southern Belle.  As I waited, the fog increased.  I might have waited longer to see what happened, but a group of German men gathered to play cards and I felt like I might be intruding.  That’s the problem with a common area.

At the start of my little shoot, there was a hint of fog around the Southern Belle

At the start of my little shoot, there was a hint of fog around the Southern Belle

By the time I stopped shooting, the fog was getting thicker

By the time I stopped shooting, the fog was getting thicker

 

Besides, I’d left Tisen at home alone and I knew he was waiting patiently by the door for my return.  I’ve started putting a sleeping mat by the door when I leave.  Otherwise, he lays on the floor and I’m sure it’s hard on his elbows.  He seems to always pick the position he believes is the closest to wherever I am.  I am alternately honored and worried–time to take him to doggy daycare.

 

The fog reflects light creating an interesting effect over route 27

The fog reflects light creating an interesting effect over route 27

Missing Sunset

Posted by dkrashb on
Fog definitely affects my mood

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

 

Watching sunset from our old place

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

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

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

Last bit of sunset from old view

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

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

 

 

 

Tisen and Twiggy

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

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

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

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

Raptor Experience

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Artie always impresses his new friends

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

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

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)

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.

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

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

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

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My favorite photo op in the jelly fish department

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

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

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

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Menacing yet living peacefully with so many fish

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

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?

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

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

Stewie turns slowly having noticed food

Poppin’ Penguins

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These guys played statue for me

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

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

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

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

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

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.