"Even though life is quite a sad business, you can have a good time in the middle of it. I like to laugh, and I think the unsung, real literary geniuses of the world are people who write jokes. Both the Irish and Jews are very fatalistic, but they laugh a lot. Only the Protestants think that every day in every way, life is getting better and better. What do they know?" Mary Gordon
Takk for alt,
Al
Two pictures of yesterday's view.
There's a little slough, maybe three acres, at the south end of the property. That places it in the center of the section, and a half-mile from any roads. After buying the land 30+ years ago I closed the ditch which had drained it. It's dry now but this summer contained enough water to enable good cattail growth. Cattails are good habitat for pheasants.
Kaia and I hunted today for the first time in weeks. About halfway in our walk around it, I should say in my walk around it because Kaia was going through it, it erupted in flying pheasants. Were there 30? That's my guess, all of which were out of range for a shot. It's delightful to see such numbers...it makes my day.
Then I went to Nunda for the fried chicken lunch special. Two pieces of chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, vegetable, dinner roll and homemade chocolate cookie for $7.50. I was so good I tipped over a quarter.
Takk for alt,
Al
"Isn’t it queer: there are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before; like the larks in this country, that have been singing the same five notes over for thousands of years." Willa Cather
The local bank had a customer appreciation cake and coffee this afternoon. One of the attendees was wearing a logo cap that proclaimed "I Wish America Was Like When I Was Growing Up." If this is not quite the wording that was the sentiment. The wearer is two years older than I so we grew up together. He's a fine man whom I really like. The setting was at a table with several others.
If the opportunity presents itself when I'm alone with him I'll wonder about that idea. Since I was a child huge strides have been made in women's rights. Take Title IX for example that has opened up athletic opportunities for girls and women. Great strides have been in career opportunities for women. In my childhood women were often limited to teaching, nursing or secretarial jobs. Strides have been made in granting women equal pay for equal work.
The voting rights act was passed when I was a young adult. African Americans previously had often been denied the vote. I rather doubt he'd approve of the return to Jim Crow laws in the south. Emmet Till was murdered for allegedly interacting with a white woman.
The "good old days" are a figment of imagination.
Takk for alt,
Al
The phragmites were thick and at least eight feet tall. The pheasant got up 20 yards in front of Kaia who was plowing through the reeds. It fell 30 yards in front of her and both the flight and the fall were totally out of her sight. Yet, with in minutes she retrieved the bird and brought it to me. How could she do that? It had to be accomplished with her sense of smell.
When we finished our bird hunt we successfully hunted invasive cedars in the grassland. That's an opportunity that never ends. Snow will end the culling but no snow yet. A pruning clipper rides in my jacket for those cedars spotted while bird hunting.
Takk for alt,
Al
One of the books I was given for my birthday, Better Living Through Birding: Notes From A Black Man In The Natural World, is well worth reading. Christian Cooper, the author, gained fame when he was falsely accused of threatening a white woman in New York's Central Park. When his recording of their encounter went viral it made national news. He was in the Park to observe birds and admonished her for allowing her dog to run off leash. She threatened to call the police to tell them that an African American man was threatening her, all of which he recorded.
While birding is an important aspect of the book it is really a memoir. He is candid about his experience as a black, gay person. With his dedication to birding there is a travelogue aspect to the book as he travels far and wide to see birds. Places he visits include Nepal, Africa, South and Central America and Australia. A graduate of Harvard, he has a definite gift as a writer.
It always makes me feel superior when I find an inaccuracy in a book 😇 and I did find one. He writes, "Right now you may be thinking, 'I've seen a Red-Headed Woodpecker! They're pretty!' No you haven't . You've seen a Red-Bellied Woodpecker, the red-head's close cousin." PP 83-84. He's wrong, Red-Headeds were common when I was a boy. Now they are less common but I've seen two in the last couple of years. Dramatic as they are colored there is no mistaking them.
Read on!
Takk for alt,
Al
"Fog shows up when water vapor, or water in its gaseous form, condenses. During condensation, molecules of water vapor combine to make tiny liquid water droplets that hang in the air. You can see fog because of these tiny water droplets. Water vapor, a gas, is invisible. Fog happens when it's very, very humid."
It was very foggy this morning. This is not common on the prairie because it's not commonly humid. Having spent the majority of my time in rather arid climes I've not had a lot of experience with fog.
Stationed in Southern California at Camp Pendleton while in the Marines we were over some hills from the ocean. Often there was fog on Highway 101 on the coast but it didn't make it to our base. Witnessing the fog roll into San Francisco on a trip there was interesting.
While stationed at Camp Pendleton our battalion was boarded on ships for a training exercise. Marines are amphibious and we were being trained to debark the ships into landing craft that would take us to shore as if were establishing a beachhead on land. From there we were to attack and move inland for an exercise that would last for two weeks.
Going over the side of the ships we used rope nets to descend into the landing craft next to the ship. So far so good, with the entire company of which I was a part in the landing crafts. The ships were a couple of miles from shore and as we completed our descent into the small boats a dense fog rolled in.
These boats, landing craft, were very basic. Essentially they were an uncovered bin with space for about 30 Marines to stand and an engine and a pilot, coxswain, at the rear. This contraption had no navigational equipment. With the dense fog the coxswain had no idea which way was to shore.
For six hours the landing craft circled waiting for the fog to dissipate. Finally it lifted, lights on shore were visible and we were deposited on the beach. However, in the night of circling we had drifted far from our goal. The beach on which we landed was about twenty miles from the intended target. How did we get to where we belonged? We were Marines so we marched.
Takk for alt,
Al
"The older you get the stronger the wind gets and it's always in your face." Today four of us braved the wind in pursuit of pheasants. Given the tail winds, for the most part, the pheasants kept their tails and left us with tales to tell of futility. Kaia, the wonder dog made the Labradors look slow and plodding. They are at least twice Kaia's size but she quickly put them in their place and so chastised they left her alone. She is a feisty little thing chasing home the large Doberman that lives across the street should it venture over our way.
Wind, it's tempting to whine about it but I'll spare you.
Takk for alt,
Al
