One for the Road

Posted by dkrashb on February 7, 2013

Bald Eagle over Hiwassee Refuge

At the Sandhill Crane Festival, some of the volunteers spotted a bald eagle and what I believe they said was a Northern Harrier. I didn’t get a good look at the Northern Harrier and, unfortunately, the birds were circling far enough away that my 400mm lens wasn’t sufficient to get a good shot.

Circling Eagle and Hawk

Smaller birds circled outside the frame, periodically diving at the much larger birds of prey, trying to convince them to move along and feed elsewhere. The eagle and the hawk seemed to run into each other almost by accident.

They soared around in a big, oblong loop like they were discussing their winter vacation plans and trying to arrange a carpool. Eventually, they must have realized they were headed different directions. They split off and flew out of sight in opposite directions.

I am puzzled by how birds navigate on their long migration journeys–especially those that don’t travel in flocks or who are migrating for the first time.

Migrating ducks stopping over to recover before continuing South

Apparently I am not the only one puzzled by this feat. Scientists seem to think birds are able to identify the direction they’re going, perhaps using the sun, moon, and stars for orientation. However, it’s unknown how birds find an actual place when they do things like fly across an ocean and return to their nest from the year before. In some experiments, birds were captured and moved via aircraft to a distant location. They still managed to find their way back without wandering.

I used to think I had a great sense of direction. I remember being lost in Dallas back when I was in my late 20’s. I was with my boss, but I was driving since the rental car was in my name. We had gone to see the West End in Dallas–a place everyone kept telling us we had to see. Then, it was time to return to the airport for our flight home. The airport is a good 30 minute drive from the West End of downtown if you don’t run into any traffic.. This is almost an impossibility in Dallas. I ended up doing a 6-month temporary assignment down there and during that time, I experienced getting stuck in traffic at 11PM on a weeknight on more than one occasion.

Sandhill Cranes on the bank

I managed to determine what direction we needed to go without a map and got us to the airport on time. My boss was impressed.

More recently, having moved to Chattanooga, I’ve had the realization that my sense of direction isn’t a sense of direction at all. Rather, it’s a way of orienting myself to direction by noticing what direction I’m going relative to where I started from. I can only do this when I’m in a place whose streets form mostly straight lines. In Chattanooga, even after a year and a half, I remain hopelessly disoriented and often lost. Imagine if I were a bird flying over the ocean–I would drown.

Home Again

Posted by dkrashb on January 26, 2013

There’s a Golden Eagle perched in the Sycamore, but it was only visible through a scope

Perhaps you didn’t notice, but I was out of town for the past 3 days. It was a work thing. So, yes, another post with photos from the Sandhill Crane Festival. While I would like to have lots of cool pictures from the Atlanta Marquis Hotel (where I did not get to stay because it was full by the time travel approval came through, but I did spend at least 12 hours a day there), it just wasn’t a good time to be lugging around my giant camera and tripod.

Adult Bald Eagle

In fact, it wasn’t a good time to do anything. Had I not been staying 2 blocks away, I might not have seen daylight for 3 days. Several of us commented that we felt like we were in Vegas–no sense of time, confined to a conference center all day, moving from room to room, meeting to meeting, session to session, the only things missing were gambling and booze.

I did get to go out to dinner with some of the folks I work with whom I rarely get to see in person, which was great fun. But, of course, it was well after dark (and even after bedtime the second night) by the time we went to dinner.

Adult Bald Eagle a little closer

If you have never been to the Atlanta Marriott Marquis, it’s worth seeing. In fact, I need to plan a weekend in Atlanta that includes shooting the lobby. I shot the Marquis lobby many years ago with my old PowerShot G3 and no tripod. I would love to see what I could get with my current camera on a tripod. If you want to see what it looks like, here’s the post with the old photos.

The thing about going to work events is that it sounds like fun, and some of it is fun, but it’s really tiring. Pat and Tisen delivered me to Atlanta on Monday night. We stayed in a La Quinta hotel a few miles North of the Marquis. This is because La Quinta allows dogs. They don’t even charge extra.

Three cranes circling the refuge

However, La Quinta is not in the best of locations and they don’t have the most comfortable of beds. So, I started my 3 days already tired and slept less and worse the next two nights alone in a hotel around the corner from the Marquis. Between limited sleep, walking around all day, eating crap, and being on my best behavior from 7AM to 11PM for 3 days, I’m pretty darn beat.

I think it’s probably the being on my best behavior part that’s so darn tiring–it’s be so much easier to just be myself.

Clearing the tree

The saving grace was that I was only a 2-hour drive away and in the same time zone. Given that many of my colleagues were there from Europe and a few from Asia, I didn’t really feel like I could complain. I’m feeling ready to go to bed (and to perhaps stay there through the weekend) none-the-less.

Looking across the lake

Distant Bugles

Posted by dkrashb on January 25, 2013

Flying in front of reflected trees

When we went to the Sandhill Crane Festival, we noticed some things about the cranes. First, they are noisy. They seem to spend a lot of time flying around, forming groups, calling to each other and circling.

It’s kind of like watching marching band practice when the band hasn’t been training together very long. They seem uncertain about how to line up, who’s in the lead, or where they’re going.

They bugle their unique call endlessly. It can be heard for miles.

Synchronized flapping

Their call is somewhat reminiscent of the sound my brother used to make when he’d sneaked up on me and was trying to terrify me. My husband thinks it sounds more like a loud turkey, but he never heard my brother.

A “heard” (yes, it’s a pun) of cranes grazed in the grasses across the refuge from us. The one bad thing about the Hiwassee Refuge and the Sandhill Crane Festival is that the birds are mostly very far away. I know this is best, especially when there’s a crowd. After all, the idea of a refuge is to give wildlife a place to be wildlife without being harassed or stressed by the presence of humans. But, it does make it difficult to get good photos. If it weren’t for the circling cranes who seemed to want to check us out, I wouldn’t have gotten much detail at all (see previous posts to see these photos).

You can probably tell we were far away from the group of cranes on the ground from this photo:

The “heard”

But it might not be obvious just how far away that really is–I shot it at 400mm. In fact, almost all of my shots (except those with a long line of cranes flying) posted over the last several days were shot at 400mm. Mind you, the Sandhill Crane is the largest bird found in Tennessee. They are up to 4’ tall and have a wingspan of up to 90” (that’s 7.5’). These are big birds. And I was shooting with as long a lens as I can afford. The only answer is to get closer.

Of course, not during the festival. There are two ways to get closer to the birds. They both involve getting on the water. One is to go kayaking–Outdoor Chattanooga offers an annual kayaking tour in the refuge in December. We did that last year. It was pretty tough to get good pictures from the kayak. Plus, we weren’t allowed in the area with the densest population of cranes. Thankfully for the birds (but not my photos), the wildlife folks take protecting these birds seriously.

The other way is to take a Blue Moon cruise through the refuge. This might be the best option for photographic opportunities. We’ll have to see if we can work that into our schedule. Worst case, there are soon going to be a couple of unreleasable cranes at the Chattanooga Nature Center. I ought to be able to get a close-up.

Tree tops reflected in water below group of cranes

Choosing Lessons

Posted by dkrashb on January 24, 2013

Reflected cranes at Hiwasee Refuge

What does it look like to be a whole-hearted person (to borrow Brene Brown’s term)? Do whole-hearted people rage against the unfairness of life from time to time? Do they experience inexplicable irritation or anger?

Brene talks a lot about practice. Not about being perfect, but about embracing imperfection and learning to correct mistakes where you can and trying again. I kind of feel that’s what my life has been like. Trying to take a lesson from a situation and then going out there and trying again.

This circling pair just kept going around and around

The part I struggle with is repeating the same lesson over and over without seeming to grasp it.

I recently told a good friend a story about choosing the lesson we take.

I was keeping emails. Neatly filed in organized folders with the thought I might need to produce one someday. On the rare occasions I needed an old email, I had it. No matter if it was from 3 years ago. I had it. Never mind it might take me an hour to find it–I had it! And that felt like a triumph somehow.

I wonder what compels a Sandhill Crane to fly in endless circles?

Then, my mail file got too big and started having problems. I had to clean out a bunch of old emails. As soon as I did, someone needed something from 2 years earlier. I no longer had the email.

I turned to my office mate (who was and is also one of my best friends) and said, “It just figures. A day after I finally get rid of an old email, someone needs it. No wonder I never want to get rid of email!”

She either didn’t hear exactly what I said or chose to ignore it. Her response was, “Yeah, all this time keeping track of all that junk and when you don’t have it, it turns out not to be a big deal.”

Perhaps they’re practicing getting their wing flaps in sync?

She was right. It really wasn’t a big deal, I just thought it was. This is a great example of choosing the lesson. Without thinking about it, the lesson I was going to take was “I can never, ever, ever get rid of another email because I never know when I’ll need it.”

My friend reframed the experience to the exact opposite. Had she not said that, I never would have realized I could choose which lesson I took from the experience.

I can’t say I’ve gotten over email hoarding, but when I do purge, I do it without guilt or fear now. Although, I still probably keep more than I should.

Reflections melting away in the ripples

Perhaps what I need is to have a committee of friends help me figure out what the possible lessons are I can take from the more challenging events in life that shake me to my core. Perhaps where I fall short is not in failing to learn “the” lesson but on thinking there’s only one possible lesson to learn and missing the one that works for me.

Life Lesson Selection. How’s that for a committee name?

Lost in the reflections from the trees

Balancing Act

Posted by dkrashb on January 23, 2013

“Keep going, come on! Pick up the pace! We’re going to catch them!”

I’ve been thinking about the feeling that there are things I have to do. I find myself wondering if there is a way to bring the joy I feel when I do the things I want to do to the things I think I have to do.

After all, do I really have to do anything?

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go! We’re getting there!”

Yes, I have to eat. Yes, I have to drink (at least water). And, yes, I have to sleep. I enjoy all of those things none-the-less. For example, I can eat just to fill my belly, grabbing whatever happens to be convenient and edible (which I still enjoy, truth be told) or I can make a really delicious and nutritious meal that makes me feel cared for and grateful.

Similarly, I can drag myself off to bed far too late and flop myself between the sheets feeling like I wasted another day. Or, I can be aware of when I’m getting sleeping, decide I need to rest and enjoy sliding into bed, allowing myself to sink into the mattress with a feeling of bliss.

“We’re going the wrong way! We’re never going to catch them now!”

Is it what we do that counts or how we do it?

Having a job means getting things done whether we want to do them or not. Is it possible to learn to really enjoy what we do day-to-day? I enjoy feeling like I can take complex problems and break them down to tasks that can be achieved. I enjoy feeling like I came up with an idea that will work. I enjoy feeling like I can bring my own unique contribution to the table. Is that enough?

Realistically, it’s hard to enjoy every single thing that we do from the moment we get out of bed to the moment we retire. I mean, can I really learn to take joy in taking out the trash? How does the concept of “I am enough” apply when it comes to the mundane aspects of life?

“They’re too far away. Let’s head back to the lake.”

I don’t think the implication is that we should set limits that say “I’m not going to take out the trash because it’s not a task I enjoy.” After all, I do not enjoy having trash laying around my home. I do enjoy having a house clean and orderly enough to look like it’s inhabited by humans.

Perhaps this is really another balance point. Spending enough time on housework to feel comfortable in the space without doing things for the sake of what I think other people would think if they stopped by. Is that enough?

“This looks familiar. How many times have we flown over this lake?

And how do I take the concept of enough to work? It is impossible for me to ever do enough to feel like I’ve done everything I could do–there aren’t enough hours in the day. I guess enough means finding the balance between feeling like I’ve made progress and allowing myself the time I need to do other things that are important to me.

Is “enough” just a new word for “balance”?

Off in the distance

For the Joy of It

Posted by dkrashb on January 22, 2013

“Should we land?” “Maybe.” “I need to know–I’ve got my landing gear down!” “Well, I don’t know . . .”

I recently read “Daring Greatly,” which has led to the concept of “enough” reappearing in my life for yet another lesson since I haven’t internalized it.

It’s a hard concept. It means acknowledging that we are flawed, incomplete, wrong, and sometimes downright ornery, and it’s enough. It’s about knowing our limits, ending perfectionism, and focusing on the completeness of “enough” rather than on what we aren’t, what we haven’t gotten done, and what we don’t have.

“Naw–not yet. Let’s fly another circle.”

I’m not so good at enough. People who know me well say things about me like, “she doesn’t do anything at less than 110%.” I get obsessed. I go all-in. Then I get frustrated by my imperfection and usually move on.

I’m pretty good at balancing enough when it comes to time management skills. It can be measured and monitored and limited in ways I understand well.

“Are you serious? Now you decide!”

Where I have more trouble with the concept of “enough” is figuring out when I’m doing something for the joy of it vs the desire to please. I find that when I do things out of the desire to please, it ends up pleasing no one, least of all me. Who wants to be around someone who is feeling resentful and put upon because they’re fulfilling an obligation they don’t feel up to fulfilling?

On the flip side, when I do something for the joy of doing it, the only pain I experience is cramping in my smile muscles. There are certain things that just make me feel joyful. Sharing something I love with someone else who’s interested is a biggie. It’s the same experience as giving someone a really great gift–it just feels like I have the ability to make a difference when I can give someone else something they want–especially if they never knew they wanted it.

“Let’s join that group!”

This begs the question: what is the difference between joyfully sharing something I love and getting joy from people enjoying it vs trying to please others?

Perhaps the difference is how vested I am in the others enjoying it? Maybe there is only a hair-breadth’s difference between sharing my joy in something without needing someone else to approve vs feeling more or less lovable based on whether others approve or not?

After all, when someone is just sharing what they love without the expectation of reciprocation, it’s hard not to catch their joy.

If I do something purely out of joy, I can allow the space for someone not to be as excited as I am. In allowing that space, it almost guarantees they will at least appreciate my joy if not experience their own.

If I do something because I think it will please someone, I need them to be pleased. That need creates a sense of expectation that can cause push back or resistance–why should they be obligated? It reduces the chances of pleasure all the way around.

I’m not sure I really understand this, but I think I’m making progress.

“We’re never going to catch them now–More altitude!”

The Road Not Taken

Posted by dkrashb on January 21, 2013

“Fly left!” “You Fly left!” “I am flying left!”

At the Sandhill Crane Festival, a woman who seemed to know the refuge well told us about a pond that was supposedly a short walk away. She advised us to follow the rope that had been erected to keep people in the viewing area from wandering too far into the refuge.

When we reached the end of the roped-off area, a gravel road led in the direction the woman had indicated. I had a moment when I wondered if we were supposed to go down this road or not and thought briefly about going back and asking one of the wildlife officers, but I reasoned that walking a road with no sign and no rope in front of it would be OK as long as we didn’t stray off the road.

“Darn it! I told you to fly left!!”

We went about 200 yards when we suddenly heard a fast-moving vehicle approaching. It was coming in so fast, we moved off the road in fear of being run over. It slid to a halt on the gravel and two wildlife officers jumped out of the truck. One was moving with the energy of someone in the midst of a flight-or-fight adrenaline response. He looked irritated and sounded angry. I don’t remember what he said, but what he communicated was that he viewed us as either idiots or criminals for not realizing we weren’t supposed to walk on this road.

“I give up. Just go wherever.”

We responded amicably, but felt obligated to explain. No matter how pleasant we were, his accusing tone did not diminish. Afterwards, for my husband, who felt like he had pushed the point home that it was not unreasonable that we would think it was OK to walk down a road, the incident was over within minutes.

I, on the other hand, felt like I was a bad person for not asking first. Feeling bad quickly turned to anger, “Why would he think it was obvious we weren’t supposed to walk down a road? Why was he so angry about it? It was a simple mistake–he didn’t need to be so upset!”

“Hey, you up there! Mind if we join you?”

I played this scene over and over in my mind, thinking of different things to say ranging from sarcasm to empathy that either ended in cutting him down to size or connecting with him and having him understand that I’m a nice person who made a mistake.

In the end, I realized that, of course, this is really about an inappropriate need to please others.

Feeling like there’s someone out there who will tell a story about me being stupid (or worse) hurts. I want to take the story out of that person’s mouth and rewrite it. But the only person who suffers is me as I waste time inside my head writing a script for a new exchange that will never happen. That time would have been better spent enjoying being with my husband, my dog, the sunshine, the glory of life.

After all, I am enough. Mistakes and all.

“Sure–just fall in line!”

Sandhill Crane Festival

Posted by dkrashb on January 20, 2013

View of the refuge from the main viewing area

Every year, the Chattanooga chapter of the Tennessee Ornithological Society volunteers for the Sandhill Crane Festival. While we’ve gone to the Hiwasee Wildlife Refuge two years in a row to see the Sandhill Cranes, we’ve never gone to the actual festival. We decided to give it a try this year.

A small flock of sandhill cranes flying overhead

Because it’s a wildlife refuge, dogs are not welcome. So, Tisen had to go to doggy daycare for a few hours. This put a slight damper on the event for us, although I understand why dogs aren’t allowed. We chose not to stay for the birds of prey show the Eagle Foundation was scheduled to provide, for example.

Same flock, regrouping

The cool thing about the festival was the TOS volunteers. They set up scopes on the observation decks and called out sightings of interesting birds. Were it not for the TOS volunteers, I would not have seen a Whooping Crane for the first time (although I’m hesitant to count it–it was so far away that even with my binoculars, it was just a flash of white amongst a flock of Sandhill Cranes) or a Golden Eagle.

A trio of cranes

The Golden Eagle was perched amongst some trees on a far away island. I could only see it through a scope. It had its back to us, so were it not for one very experienced TOS member who knew how to tell the two apart, I’m not sure any of us would have realized what we were witnessing.

We saw immature Bald Eagles, one adult Bald Eagle in the air and a second on a nest through a scope, Ring-neck ducks, and Canvas-back ducks all thanks to the skills of the volunteers. I would have spent a lot of time figuring the ducks out and then not felt confident I had it right. It’s just more exciting to bird with people who know what they’re doing.

Same trio with wings down, up, and flat

The weather also made it exciting to be outside again. Bright blue skies, tons of sunshine, and warming temperatures all made me smile ear-to-ear.

Although, during the festival you have to park at an elementary school in the nearby town (village might be more accurate) and take a bus to the viewing areas.

The recent rains created a slight delay in our return shuttle ride. A couple of miles from where we were parked, a flatbed tow truck pulled out across the road, blocking traffic in both directions. They stopped to pull a backhoe out of a muddy ditch where it was stuck.

This ended up taking about 20 minutes. So, we got to sit on a school bus and watch while these guys used a winch from the truck and another guy pushed the backhoe with a front loader and together, they hauled the backhoe out of the mud and onto the truck. When we got going again, we passed the giant mud puddle–it was a red, gooey mess that looked like a giant wound. Hopefully the sun will “heal” it quickly.

Single crane over the lake

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

Christmas Bird Count

Posted by dkrashb on December 26, 2012

One of my favorite winter birds–I love to hear their song when I walk the dogs.

This was a somewhat rare sighting at Audubon Acres–I have a much easier time shooting them at Renaissance.

Not 100% sure, but I think this was a yellow-rumped warbler flying away.

The only thing better than a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker is two of them.

I love these birds. Just a great name.

I’ve always wanted to participate in the Christmas Bird Count, but never really understood how it worked. Every year, the National Audubon Society sponsors a Christmas Bird Count. Each area organizes a specific day for participants to count birds.

The idea is to collect data on how many birds of each species seen are present in a given area at Christmas time. Counts are scheduled from early December through January–I don’t know of any that actually happened on Christmas Day. Ironically, the name of the event always prevented me from participating–I assumed the Christmas Bird Count happened on Christmas Day and I wouldn’t be able to join.

This year, because I’ve been volunteering for the Chattanooga Audubon Society, I learned that I didn’t have to count birds on Christmas Day to be part of the event. In Chattanooga, the count was scheduled on December 15th.

The most challenging part about the count (other than getting any decent photos) was trying not to double count birds. We walked around Audubon Acres for 3 hours before I had to leave. It was pretty tough to ensure the Eastern Towhee we heard on one part of the property wasn’t the same Eastern Towhee following us to another part of the property.

The guidelines are clear for counting at a feeder. You only count the maximum number of a particular type of bird you see at one time. That way, you know you’re not counting the same bird over and over as it returns to feed.

Because we were roaming over 4 miles of trails, we had to try to segregate areas in the hope that the birds were staying on one part of the property. For birds that we saw few of, that was a little clearer than birds that were everywhere.

I can’t remember ever seeing so many Flickers in one day. There are either hundreds of Flickers at Audubon Acres or we were being stalked by a group of 5-10 of them.

I discovered several things during the Christmas Bird Count. First, I really need to get back in the habit of hiking every weekend. I felt like it was a desperately needed breath of fresh air to get back outside after many weeks of neglecting that part of my life.

Second, there is something wrong with my brain that makes me see only similarities and not differences. The problem is worsened when the light is bad. I was mistaking bluebirds for robins. That’s not good. They’re not even close to the same size–even in silhouette they can be distinguished. But, I would see red on the breast and automatically go to Robin even though there are as many Eastern Bluebirds at Audubon Acres as there are Northern Flickers.

Finally, 400mm is not enough for shooting song birds. Although, I was very pleased with the shot of the two Yellow-bellied sapsuckers (it’s cropped). Now I just need to win the lottery to get a 600mm lens.

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Tag Archives: Bird photography