Hummingbird Food

Day 188: Red-Flowering Currant (Ribes sanguineum) is native to Washington, and grows as a sprangly shrub, eventually producing a crop of tasteless, insipid black berries with nothing to recommend them to humans. However, its flowers have an irresistible appeal to hummingbirds, and of course given that I am basing my landscaping/gardening around providing habitat and food for birds and pollinators, I simply had to have a currant somewhere in my yard. But where to get one without having to pay through the nose for a nursery-grown plant?

There is a verb in popular use among my friends, "to pip," i.e., sneak cuttings, snitch rooted specimens (never the entire plant, though!), or to otherwise "liberate" a specimen for the garden. The origins of "pipping" lie in another gardening friend's nickname. She's notorious for her ability to pocket slips from nursery stock, and has the skills to propagate almost anything she nicks. I'm not quite as good, although I've lifted a few cuttings from parking lots and such, so I've been watching for unattended currants along the roadside. I wasn't having much luck. The only ones I was finding were too big to dig. I wanted a plant with just a few stems, something I could prune and train without the need for major surgery. Evenutally, I found not one but two "pippable" specimens of just the right size. I brought them both home to keep my hummingbirds entertained.

Spider Island

Day 341: Very little inspires Captain Morgan Corbye to loathing or disgust, those sentiments reserved for government representatives the likes of Franklin Beale, her arch foe. However, on the occasion of putting the Winged Adventure into a small island cove for careening, it was soon to be discovered that spiders rank close alongside the officious Harbourmaster.

Whilst ship's bursar Robin Penn watched over the sailors hard at work scraping the ship's barnacled hull lest in their enthusiasm for the task they might damage the wood, the Captain took it upon herself to head up a provisions party. Hoping at the very least for a few rabbits to relieve the diet of salt beef and dried fish the crew had taken aboard following their last raid, Capt. Corbye brought with her the ship's best archer, Padraic Alane. Though as a Scot, she damned him for an Irishman whenever his shots went wide of the mark, Paddy had bagged two brace, almost enough for a good stew, and was bending his bow in the hopes of a fifth when a shout of profoundly profane invective caused him to flinch and release the arrow prematurely. "'Tis a great bloody bastard o' a hairy bleedin' spider is gone down me shirt! O, 'elp me! Come get it orf me, ye cowards! It's atween me bloody damned boosums an' I canna get holt o' th' bastard!"

To a man, the crew froze in place, uncertain whether it was best to leave our Captain to the spider or risk losing a limb to her sword for a misplaced hand. It was Paddy Alane who came to her ultimate rescue, nocking an arrow, the tip of which he had blunted by inserting it into the first soft thing he could find before letting it fly as gently as possible to its target. With a shocked expression upon her sun-browned face, the ,Captain gave one brief look at the mushy remains of a mangled banana slug upon her chest, then peered into her linens and said, "Paddy, ye're a guid lad an' me saviour. I make o' ye now a 'onorary Scotsman, an' nevermore wi' damn ye fer Irish." Thus did Spider Island come to be so named.

Usnea Longissima, Methuselah's Beard Lichen

Day 171: We now resume our regularly scheduled programming, and by that I mean "no more April Fools' jokes."

Frequently and easily mistaken for a moss, Usnea longissima is one of the most elegant members of the lichen family. Also known as Methuselah's Beard, this Usnea grows in strands which may reach lengths of nine feet, and drapes over branches like a tinsel Christmas swag. Like the lung lichens, Usnea longissima is a good indicator of air quality since it is highly sensitive to pollutants. Seen here growing on Red Alder along the Rainey Creek trail, Methuselah's Beard is abundant at the east end of Riffe Lake.

Novelty Shots

Day 20: You've seen them...photos made with the "Tiny Planet" app. You may have even made a few with your phone if it has the capability. Mine doesn't. It makes phone calls and it takes pictures, but it stops short of allowing me to download them onto my computer. I don't care. I have a camera for that. But occasionally, some novelty processing gimmick comes along and piques my interest, and "Tiny Planet" fell into that category. I had an idea how I could effect the same thing using PaintShopPro, but could never quite get it right and gave up trying.

Recently, an internet friend posted detailed instructions for how to make your own "Tiny Planet," and I discovered that I'd been missing one crucial step: resizing the image to a square without cropping it, i.e., changing the aspect ratio and squeezing its dimensions so that trees and mountains were very tall and skinny. I tested it out on a few single frames and then decided I was ready for the Big Time.

Although it's not a requirement, this process is most effective if you can have sky in every shot of a panorama. That's not an easy thing to achieve when you live in a mountainous area because you're nearly always facing a hill in at least one direction when you live among valleys. I decided my best chance at getting a border of sky was to go over to the east end of Riffe Lake in the hopes that Dog Mountain wouldn't be too tall. I mounted the camera on a tripod, and after checking to be sure the horizon was level in all directions, I took a panorama of 19 images in order to get the full scene. At home, these images were stitched together and cropped slightly at the top (I got too much sky!), and then I was ready to create my "Riffe World."

Taking the long, skinny panorama, I resized it to a perfect square, then flipped it top to bottom. The next step was to apply a Polar Coordinates filter, "rectangle to polar" (not "polar to rectangle"). Bingo! Riffe World sprang into existence, mountains all around and one tall cottonwood standing like a spire. Because my panorama was a full 360 degrees, no additional trimming up of the seam was required. I finished the image off by framing it with four repeats of the panorama laid out like a log-cabin quilt.

Now ask me what earthly good this is, and I'll answer, "Probably none." It's just a novelty shot...fun to do, but not worth buying a fancy phone to accomplish.

Red Brolly

Makeup Day 11: Inspired by a passion for surrealist art, I particularly enjoy finding unusual features in the landscape which I can incorporate into my photography, particularly when creating a self-portrait such as this. However, today I had a more impressionistic concept in mind for the Red Brolly when I left home, but hunting season left me cut off from the world of Seurat and the quaint little bridge I had intended to use as a stage. Gone were all thoughts of soft-focused autumn colors to set off my centerpiece when I found the placid countryside taken over by orange-garbed, armed males, some shorter and possibly younger than the rifles slung over their shoulders. Thus I turned to a different area, one where innocent animals were not likely to go: a rocky bar at the east end of Riffe Lake.

It must be pointed out that for this shoot, I was perforce in costume, i.e., makeup, wig, a white dress and fashion raincoat, low heels and a newly-purchased, cheap French beret. The rain politely held off until I was done, but that did not prevent spatters of mud from dappling my dress and caking on my shoes, and although I did not break a heel, the end caps disappeared somewhere amid the rocks. The Red Brolly held up as well as could be expected in the wind, but somehow, somewhere, the beret took wing and left no clue to its whereabouts. In later (unused) shots), it is gone from my head, its departure entirely unnoticed until I packed up my gear to leave.

It is my belief that sometimes sacrifices must be made for Art. Today, the beret and my feet were among the vicitms. Heels and rocks do not go well together, nor wind and hats. Perhaps next time, I'll go for limp watches and the Persistence of Memory.

A Leg Up

Day 40: "She'll be readin' th' weather." Robin Penn's remark was spoken softly despite the fact that his approach was clearly announced by the sound of his wooden leg punctuating every other step along the dock's planking. "An' I be thinkin' she's not a bit 'appy wi' it. Wants 'eavy fog, she does."

Robin served as our ship's bursar, cabin boy despite his age, and more importantly, ship's carpenter though his duties in that regard were limited by his infirmity. I had wondered at his service in the crew and made bold to ask him directly how he came not to be pensioned off under the Articles which provided more generously than most for loss of a limb. I found him willing to discuss the matter openly without taking offense at my curiosity; thus I learned that the very thing he warned so often against became his own undoing, but as a matter of choice, not chance.

"'Twas th' foggy season, like now," he told me. "We'd boarded bloody parish-rigged brig, see, carryin' a load o' victuals wot we sorely wanted, an' I were layin' about wi' me cutlass amongst 'er crew when I spied our powder monkey, young chap an' green, lookin' t' 'ave 'is 'ead split by a rogue wi' a belayin' pin. Oh, them were th' days! Well, th' anchor chain, it were a'tween me an' th' blighter wi' the belayin' pin. I made a leap t'save th' laddie...took that bleeder's arm off, I did...but somewheres one o' th' mates fired a keg o' powder an' th' brig, she 'eeled over fast. Got me leg in th' blasted chain, an' off she come in th' backlash. Carpenter...'im wot was our surgeon, too...tol' me, 'We'll 'ave ye right as rain, lad,' an' pared off th' tatty bits an' set me up wi' this 'ere peg." Penn paused for a noisy drencher from a flask of rum, his voice gone raspy with the telling of the tale while I stood speechless at how casually he could relate it, as if it were all in a day's work in the trade of piracy.

"Now Cap'n," he continued, "she seen wot I done fer th' young feller, an' she come by to see me in me bunk. 'Ye're a guid man, Robin, me lad, but tell me this: did ye no' consider wot might 'appen when ye went over th' chain?' I told 'er straight, 'That I did, but Jack Tar were about t' 'ave 'is brains spilt, an' I were thinkin' 'e's far too young t' die just yet. I took me chance an' lost th' roll.' Then she looks me str'ight in th' eye an' says, 'Then I gives ye a choice, fer that's wot I suspected. Ye can do one o' eether. Fer savin' a man's life, I'll gi'e ye double wot's laid out in Articles an' pension ye off, or ye can stay aboard an' be 'prenticed t' carpenter. But I'll no' be 'avin' ye monkeyin' about in th' riggin', mind. Ye're a deck 'and an' at lower pay if ye wants t' stay on.'" Penn took another pull at his flask, but it had gone dry. I offered my own, for my taste for rum is limited. He accepted it with but a nod in thanks, draining half the contents before lowering it to his knee.

"She give me two days t' think it over, an' I mean t' tell ye, it weren't a easy choice. But 'ere I be. 'Tis in me blood, piratin', an' wi' a Cap'n like Morgan Corbye, well, she ain't so mean as some. Wi' bein' full carpenter now an' bursar besides, me pay's almost as good as ever it were as bo'sun."

There was one more question I wanted to ask, and Robin anticipated it. "Young Jackie Tar, wot become o' 'im, ye wonder? Next time we put into port, 'e drew 'is pay an' married th' parson's daughter. I 'ear 'e's a clark at th' clothier's. 'ad all 'e wanted o' piratin', that one, an' Cap'n let 'im go wi' her blessin'."

Perhaps the sound of her name fell upon the Captain's ear, for at that moment she rounded on us sharply and said, "Ready th' lads an' get 'em aboard. We're sailin' on th' mornin' tide. Shift it, ye bloodless curs! We've piratin' t' do."

*****

Footnote: A little less than a year ago, a friend lost his leg in an industrial accident. He asked me to consider writing him into Morgan Corbye's saga. Given the circumstances, I have done so. This one's for you, Rob.

Big Hips

 Day 343: Rugosa Rose won't mind at all if you tell her she has big hips, and believe me, they're enormous. They're also rich in vitamin C and can be used to make fragrant tea, syrup, jelly, marmalade or even wine, but be sure to use only the outer rind. The fine hairs found inside the fruit can cause an itchy irritation of the digestive tract if ingested in sufficient quantity. Rose hips may also be dried and used in potpourri.