Posts Tagged ‘photos’
Cyndie Shots
Cyndie is the one of us who is home full-time now, and there are some glimpses I get from her day that give me a familiar feeling. She shared the following images with me last night.
While Mother Nature raged over our earth with pummeling winds yesterday, Cyndie captured a few moments that defy the agitation of non-stop air rushing by to somewhere else.
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Two More
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Addendum: Why two days with no writing? Once again, I think I am following the adage, “if you can’t think of anything good to say, don’t say anything.” I don’t want to fall into the trap of over-focusing on the political, but my mind keeps getting stuck on our slow slide toward a kleptocracy which no one thus far seems able to do anything about. I’d rather focus on Love. .
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Intriguing Finds
Imagine this: Delilah and I were on another walk around our property. How many times have we done that before? Regardless the frequency of our travel on the variety of paths available, there is always something new to discover. Yesterday in the quickly fading light of day, it was snow and marks in the snow that caught our attention.
Well, my attention, anyway.
In both cases, I had almost entirely passed by the beauties when something caused me to stop and fish the camera out of my pocket. Despite the bitterly cold temperature and the low light, I came up with images that work for me.
The first subject was a couple of balanced mossy rocks that the snow had frosted with a flair. It flowed down from the top of the upper rock and circled perfectly around it as it settled over the rock below.
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The second find was even more fascinating to me. At first glance I assumed the marks in the snow were probably from George and Anneliese’s dogs, but one mark didn’t make any sense. My brain processed it as if a bear had swung a clawed paw.
Probably not.
Then it occurred to me. That was the shadow of a passing wing! These were the tracks from a predator snatching up prey. Wow.
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I had to halt Delilah’s progress so I could get out the camera again and position myself to capture the shot. I couldn’t reach because she was pulling against me toward something more interesting to her.
I called her to come back toward me and then quickly pleaded with her to stop and stay, in fear she would come barreling all the way back to me and stomp through the scene. Luckily, she stopped.
Just another walk around the property. Yeah.
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Looking Down
I have an affinity for looking straight up or directly beneath me when I’ve got a camera in my hands. I’m also a fan of surface textures and single content features filling the frame.
Adding in the shadow of a perfect hoof print is a real bonus.
I had just been looking into the sun at Cayenne when I dropped my gaze and captured the ground in front of me. She had turned to observe my activity and then resumed the noble pose that had grabbed my attention in the first place.
I captured both.
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I think she was enjoying the last of the warm afternoon sun prior to our latest bout of cold rain. That is, cold in the relative sense, because yesterday it climbed to 50° (F) here, which is rather warm for late November.
Leaves us wondering when we will get to look down at our feet and see some useable snow. For the time being, it is mostly mud!
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Scratch Fest
When I walk in the door at home after work, Pequenita kicks it in to high gear, meowing and rubbing herself against my legs in a plea for attention. The second I settle somewhere to take a load off my feet, she climbs aboard.
I am at her service, giving her whatever she seems to want the most, in terms of massage and scratching. Her head shifts up and down, to and fro, moving to direct my fingers to the next sweet spot.
I suppose we both gain something out of the exercise, but I get the impression that she tends to enjoy it just a little bit more than I.
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Intervale Windmill
Cyndie’s brother, Ben Friswold, recently sent me some photos he took of the old windmill from Intervale Ranch which is still standing on the Braemar Golf Course in Edina. The course is undergoing some renovations that had us questioning the fate of the precious relic.
Both Cyndie and Ben separately contacted the course manager to inquire on their plans and let him know of our interest in preserving it. If they weren’t going to keep the old beast, we wanted to have it. Alas, the response was that they love the history of it and thus included the windmill as part of their new design.
I think this is the better place for it, but if they weren’t going to preserve the implement, we would much rather have it than see the metal tossed to a scrap pile.
I’m curious about the markings on the tail that say, “Hays Farm USA.” I rather doubt the naming would have been something my father or grandfather would have done.
More likely, the city of Edina added that. In most of the historical documents I have reviewed about the property, the city identified it as the Hays Farm, as opposed to Intervale.
It has occurred to me that I don’t know if the windmill ever appears in any photos of the Intervale Slideshow I posted a couple of days ago. Wouldn’t that be something if it did.
This morning I searched for old posts on Relative Something where I wrote about the farm and discovered I did that back in July of 2009. If you are interested in reading more about the property, check them out.
You can find them under the category, “Intervale,” or navigate the “Previous Somethings” back to July 2009.
Or, I could provide a link to one of them. More About the Farm seems like a reasonable start. From there you can travel to the ‘previous’ or ‘next’ post on the subject by clicking the links just above the comment box at the bottom of the page.
Many thanks to my golfing brother-in-law, Ben, for keeping an eye on our treasured landmark, and providing the pictures used here!
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Number Stories
What more could I write to tell the stories captured by these images?
New car.
Overnight rain.
Numbers.
Oof.
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No Reason
I just feel like posting some pictures. I invite you to take a break and let them take you somewhere…
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Old Fence
Here are a couple more images from that old barbed wire fence that got swallowed by a tree.
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Relative Something 