~ Out & About and In Again posted 2/17/2008 3:33:20 PM | 18 kudos what's this?     report abuse

sciurusniger

"It's a moment that I'm after, a fleeting moment, but not a frozen moment."
(Andrew Wyeth)


It's raining. Sometimes it's pouring. The old man is settled in all comfy-cozy to watch the wheels on the race cars go 'round and 'round in Daytona. Come nightfall our world will be encased in ice. Me? I've got laundry going and cleaning to get done. But I cannot help but sit for a moment or few and ponder the difference a day makes.

We had a whole day of brilliant sunshine here yesterday. Up and out early, I caught sight of a Cooper's hawk high in a 'hood tree on the way home so took a quick walk to snap some shots. Tough with the brilliant backlighting of the sunrise, and I blew the chance to catch it properly on the wing so was a tad disappointed since good, clear light has been so lacking of late.

But life goes on and we'd planned a late afternoon trip to one of the local nature preserves. Haven't been there since winter started to coat our world with snow, so we (read: I) thought perhaps it would be fun, and maybe we'd get a chance to snap some shots of birds or other, shyer wilds as they headed to their homes for the night.

We weren't disappointed in the beauty, though some locals giving their dogs an outing like it is a dog park and not a nature preserve had already blown any slim opportunity for wildlife sightings. Still, the snow and the river always hold their own singular charm so we trudged along in the bitter, bitter cold.

Did I say it was cold? It was beyond cold. It was frigid. Arriving as the sun began to drop low meant wondrous light, but it also meant shadows beginning to grow and if the temperature was above 20 degrees, it wasn't above it by much. Even warmly-dressed, being out in the woods in the snow meant it wasn't long before fingers and toes felt that special sting that only winter can bring.

But growing up here means I am tough and my California man is nothing short of brave, so as the silence of the impending evening at last began to grow our frozen patience was slowly and surely rewarded. A large Hairy Woodpecker was spotted on the other side of the river, merrily peering about to find a good place to pound out one last meal before bedtime. A hawk went sailing away above the farthest tree tops; way too far for a photo but a good omen there would perhaps be other activity as it either circled or others headed this way.

And sure enough, just as our frozen fingers and toes began to beg for mercy, bringing serious thought of heading out, there it came. As we stood at the very edge of the woods, one lone and very large red-tailed hawk, a white morph type, had just come in view over the highest tops of the trees and was about to make a beeline across the meadow in front of us. With no more than a second to react, as PMF said the words I raised the camera, whirled around, and let 'er rip. No fan of the noise that comes with high ISO, I concede its usefulness. In a matter of seconds, the hawk's beauty was as frozen as the landscape, wing-flap by wing-flap. One often wishes for better circumstances and certainly I always wish for bigger glass, but what was, is, and is now saved forever.

It felt so good to be out shooting like that again, even if it seemed to take hours to thaw out. But I admit to a a bit of guilty gladness to be housebound today.

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