Only Schroedinger Knows

Day 139: What happens when you come to the end of infinity? Does it loop back on itself as the name suggests, to devour its own tail like the Worm Ouroboros? Does it go 'round an unseen dimensional bend to emerge in an alternate universe? Cats know, and I suspect that's why Schroedinger put one in a box. He hated cats because they knew something his poorly developed human mind couldn't grasp. He put the cat in the box and left us to wonder whether it was dead or alive, or perhaps both simultaneously, but regardless of its condition, the cat knew something Schroedinger didn't know, and it had known it all along. That's why Schroedinger put it in the box. Schroedinger hated cats. He hated cats because they understood dimensional physics better than he could ever hope to do. Every time Schroedinger saw a cat staring off into infinity, he felt threatened and diminished in his hypothetical human superiority. He knew that cat was seeing something he couldn't see, a new dimension. Perhaps it was too large for him to perceive, or perhaps too small. In either case, Schroedinger's eye failed him and so did his mind. That's why Schroedinger hated cats. That's why he put one in a box and tormented us with its unanswerable question.

Glass Forest

Day 138: When improvements were made to the Administration Building at Longmire (Mount Rainier National Park), one of the features added was a thick glass door mounted approximately six feet inside the heavy timber rear entry. I believe it functions largely for weatherization, providing a certain degree of insulation against the cold drafts which always used to sneak through every available chink in the log-cabin construction. In any event, it is a work of art, the glass etched with a forest scene, a small section of which is shown here, backlit by the overhead lights in the narrow hallway. In my fancy, a flock of crows flies above the foreground trees.

Pine Siskin, Carduelis Pinus

Day 137 (bonus edition): Sometimes in wildlife and/or bird photography, you get lucky. So it was today as I was standing on the back porch taking pictures of the Pine Siskins who returned a few days ago with the Evening Grosbeaks.

Until last summer, these small birds had been absent from my feeders for a number of years. Articles in birding magazines and National Wildlife indicated that the species was in decline overall. When they reappeared here, they came in droves and when their season ended, I wondered if I'd ever see them again. I need not have worried. Perhaps encouraged by memories of an endless supply of nyger seed, they're back in force.

As for that lucky shot I spoke of earlier, I kept hoping the bird in the foreground would turn to face me without shifting position so that the patterning on her wings would be evident. The feeder was swinging slightly, knocked about by other birds landing or leaving. I didn't think I'd get a good, crisp capture, not with so many factors at work. My little Siskin friend seemed to realize I wanted her to pose and turned her head to meet the lens' big round eye. Click! Extra nyger for you, sweetie!

Field Abstract

Day 137: The light was long and the shadows deep where they filled small hollows in the snow-covered pasture. The stubble, left from a weed-control mowing performed last autumn, was rimed with ice crystals. The scene was entrancing, with the sun's rays shattering as they illuminated the frozen shafts from behind. I brought several images back to the computer, pleased with the effects of texture and light, and then I thought, "I wonder what this would look like as a negative?" In the next moment, I discovered an alien world with a complex geography of towers and hills with trees growing upon their summits, an alternate reality paralleling that of a stubblefield in the snow.

Handsome In Yellow

Day 136: A male Evening Grosbeak (Coccothraustes vespertinus) could be said to look like an American Goldfinch male on steroids. Measuring in at approximately seven inches from beak to tail, these showy birds are about the size of a Starling. Their bold white wing patches and brilliant yellow "eyebrows" are distinctive even at a distance. In both males and females, the beak turns chartreuse green in mating season. Their appetites are legendary. Although their natural diet is one of evergreen seeds, they are passionate about black-oil sunflower seed when it is placed in feeders, and they have my yard staked out as a consistent source.

Bald Is Beautiful

Day 135: Bald Eagles are far from uncommon in western Washington, but we seem to be experiencing a strong influx of them here these last few weeks. They appear fairly consistently along the Mashell River in Eatonville where this photo was taken, but I have been hearing them reported in downtown Graham and South Hill as well as other relatively urban locations. Today there were two along the Mashell, roosting together in the same tree, too far apart to capture in the same shot. They were playing peek-a-boo with me between branches as the wind blew and light snow spit down. It was a chilly but rewarding day for watching Baldies.

Puyallup River Gold

Day 134: I believe this lichen is a member of the family of Xanthoria. The Latin name derives from a word meaning "yellow" and it's obvious why it applies here. Looking sulphurous and perhaps fancifully radioactive, it is arguably one of the most distinctive colors you'll find in Pacific Northwest forests. Shown here along the Puyallup River trail, the wood on which it is growing was brought down by flood waters only a few years ago. With the canopy open and light admitted, the lichen is burgeoning.

Oh, Joyous Day!

Day 133: A dozen or so Porch Parrots showed up this morning...excuse me, Evening Grosbeaks, Coccothraustes vespertinus...demanding that black-oil sunflower seeds be refreshed in all three feeders. Second only to Crows and Ravens in my book, I darted out the door with birdseed bucket in one hand, cell phone on the other, because Porchies must not be kept waiting. Even with the trays full, there were still a few face-offs, the antagonists looking even more grumpy than usual with their heavy "eyebrows" drawn down in a perpetual frown.

These delightful birds come seasonally here, although the date of their arrival ranges broadly from January to May. Their departure is a bit more predictable. Trained for avian generations to my feeding stations, they will often hang around until late September, assured that the food source is abundant and reliable. A couple hundred pounds of black-oil seed will be doled out before their season comes to a close, and every cent spent on a healthy diet is returned in the enjoyment I derive from having them flock to the yard. Welcome home, my little friends!

Volunteer

Day 132: I love my job! My security clearance finally came through, so today was spent in training on the government computer where I will be working with several databases related to the Volunteer Program at Mt. Rainier National Park. And even better, I was given my first editing task, a handbook which will be used by incoming volunteers. Now the serious work begins! I have my blue pencil sharpened, ready to make strikethroughs and cryptic marginal notes, poised to reorder and revise, alert for any grammatical or spelling errors which may have slipped beneath the radar. Why, I've even upgraded my patches to the new round version! I am proud to be a Volunteer-in-Park!

A Gathering Of Friends

Day 131: The Breakfast Bunch was split into several groups this morning, each knot of friends perched in one of several vantage-point trees from which they can observe activity at three or four neighborhood feeding stations. I am not the only one who delivers meals of dog food, corn, macaroni, bread and such. Clyde does, as well as two other neighbors further on down the road. The Breakfast Bunch trusts me to announce the meal spread on the board. I give forth with two caws, repeated once or twice at well-spaced intervals, to say that there is food here. They do not watch for me so much, confident that I'll alert them, although they do keep an eye on the Steller's Jays who also come to the feeding board.

This morning, the conclave was split into parts of four to six members, perhaps discussing the weather (soon to rain in torrents) or perhaps to comment on the herd of elk which has now returned to graze new-sprung grass shoots in the pasture. There was some intermingling between factions, one bird temporarily visiting another's roost as if to exchange confidential information. It was a social morning for this gathering of friends.

The Dalliance Of Shiva And Parvati

Day 130: The Yab-yum depicts Shiva and Parvati in "dalliance," and some say it was in this moment that the Universe was created. Shiva is known as both Creator and Destroyer, a masculine deity both benevolent and malevolent, subject to moods and whims similar to those of ordinary humans. Parvati is the source of enlivening energy, a counterpart to Shiva and also the mother of all other gods and goddesses, a symbol of utmost femininity. The pair gave birth to Ganesha and his brother Skanda, the latter being the least well-known of the family.

This brass sculpture was one of many representations of Hindu deities collected by my mother whose theology tended toward the Eastern style. In accord with the energy represented by this legendary pair, I gave the image an infrared treatment to provide a mystical glow around the figures. I think it would please my mom to see them so.

Rebirth

Day 129: Like the Phoenix of legend, wild roses are rising from their own ashes, the withered hips still clinging to the vines as bright green leaf buds sprout among the thorns. It is a sure sign that Spring is pressing forth against Winter's ramparts, ready to burst at its seams for the pure joy of living. The cycle turns again, and renewal of Nature's indefatigable spirit is knocking at the door.

Orchid's Heart

Day 128: Watson's Nursery is one of my favorite places to shop, and the clerks are accustomed to the sight of me wandering around with the camera both indoors and out. The shop is a riot of color at any time of year, so much that the eye becomes befuddled with input and fails to notice the fascinating structures overwhelmed by the intensity of hues. Translated to black and white, the intricate and delicate heart of an orchid becomes the focal point, each dot distinct and each curve outlined by light or shadow. The monochrome allows us to enter another dimension of this exotic plant's beauty, seeing it as an essay of shaded greys as indeed it is seen by many creatures closer to Nature than ourselves.

Hoya Bella

Day 127: Hoya bella, with its tiny leaves and lavish displays of bloom every six weeks or so, is one of the most rewarding houseplants I have ever owned. I was given a slip several years ago by my hairdresser whose shop-shelf parent plant's stems had reached four feet or more. I figured it would die under my care, but despite far too frequent under-watering and other neglect, it has flourished in my living room's east window. I keep it pruned to approsimately 18" in length to prevent feline nibbling. When it comes into flower, clusters of lightly fragrant white blooms appear at nodes and tips of the stems, dozens at one time. The star-shaped flowers are thick and waxy, giving rise to the common name "wax plant," and each one carries five translucent magenta "beads" around its center. A dainty yet sturdy plant, I have given many slips away to fill my friends' homes with the same delightful beauty you see here.

Still Life With Artificial Ivy

Day 126: Desperation, that's what this is. I love still lifes and I don't even have an orange in the house to put with some kind of crockery. I've been wanting to use my mom's ivy vase in an image for some time now, and since the light was soft this morning, I decided to fill it with ... what?

Well, Doug fir branches in an ivy vase look a tad strange, if you take my meaning, and the only other thing green would have been a bud of hellebore which has barely emerged from the ground. In lieu of a bright bouquet, I resorted to a spray of artificial ivy I'd intended for a purpose now abandoned. The Nigella pods are from a garden now only green in memory.

The moral of the story is that desperate times call for desperate measures. Come on, Spring! Hurry up!

NPS Brunch - Lee Snook

Day 125 (special edition): The Valentine's Day Brunch for the Interpretive division of Mt. Rainier National Park featured a photo studio manned by my colleague and good friend Kevin. We had worked hard the previous day setting up the lighting and backdrop, testing angles and equipment, marking a spot on the floor where the subjects were to stand. Kevin was using a flash on a remote trigger for the serious work, and I milled around taking long exposures in the interior of the hall using only ambient light. During the knock-down, Lee Snook threw a rope of lights around her neck and posed. I couldn't resist the opportunity to do some portraiture of my own.

Thanks, Lee, for giving me permission to post this shot! I love that enigmatic smile, and wow! What a sharp dresser!

NPS Brunch - George And Ben

Day 125: George and Ben were honored guests at our Valentine's Day Brunch today at Mt. Rainier National Park, held in the Community Building at Longmire. When I arrived, they were already posing in our portable photo studio, so I took advantage of the lack of other people in the room to make a long exposure with my camera braced on the back of a chair. As the story goes, they were rescued from an untimely end in the trash barrels at Fort Spokane by a co-worker. Ben resides in her office, normally clothed in less colorful clothes than he is wearing here, and we always wish him a good morning when we reach the top of the stairs.

A Whisper In The Woods

Day 124: It snowed for most of the day at Longmire, all the more reason to take a walk around the Trail of the Shadows during lunch. Despite the wintry conditions, it was plainly apparent that spring is in the air. A flock of Varied Thrushes, eight to ten in number, flitted from branch to branch in the forest near Iron Mike, the same location where last week I spotted a Red-Breasted Sapsucker drilling for bugs beneath the bark of a hemlock. Small springs were flowing, creating tiny cascading waterfalls which will be dry by early summer. Trail of the Shadows and Longmire Meadow which it encircles is a unique wetland environment. Today I even saw a pair of Mallards fly up from the open water in its heart.

Shooting The Canon

Day 123 (bonus edition): Disclaimer: No cameras were harmed during the making of this shot, but only because I had a really good grip on the cup (well, it wasn't loaded). The projectile force of one of these types of slingshot is substantially more than the ones you made out of sticks and rubber bands when you were a kid. Even empty, I think it might have knocked the tripod over at that close range.

Industrial Steel-Cap Toes

Day 123: Every now and then, a girl just has to buy a new pair of dress boots whether she needs them or not. I have long coveted a pair of Doc Martens and finally took the plunge via Amazon, despite the fact that my feet are a very small size and I was afraid the size 5s would be too large. I needn't have worried. They fit better than any pair of boots I've owned since the Bambinos (now 40 years old and still in decent shape). They are just large enough that I can wear two pair of wool socks for snowshoeing. The heel caps fit snugly and there's exactly enough room in the toe. The soles are the same material as those on the Bambinos (something I think is better than Vibram), and the Norwegian welt means they can be replaced when, inevitably, I wear them out. I wanted to show them at their prettiest, before I slather on the Snow Seal currently heating on the stove. I'll be stepping out soon!

Fading Into Time

Day 122: This old buckboard stands outside a tiny little museum in one of Eatonville's parks. Each time I walk by it, I think of the pioneers who rode in such uncomfortable conveyances. They were a tough breed, those folk who came out west in the mid 1800s to settle in Washington's untamed land. I would think that the calluses on their behinds were no less thick than those on their hands for the days spent jouncing and bouncing on a hard wooden seat as wheels banged through ruts and over rocks. My own great-grandmother rode in a vehicle such as this, a ceramic cat cradled in her lap on its silken cushion. Remarkably, both cat and grandma survived intact. I look at this buckboard, and I marvel at how that came to be.

Bring On Spring!

Day 121: Bring it on! I am ready! My seed order from Parks arrived a few days ago, and with the warm days we've been having, it was terribly tempting to go out and scrabble in the dirt for a bit to get the flowerbeds ready to receive seedlings. But prudence prevailed and, knowing that we won't be reliably frost-free until June 1 or later, I had to suffice with simply throwing bits of moss out of the image frame.

That said, the Leavenworth Eryngo (Sea Holly) is bedded down in moist sand on the lowest shelf of the refrigerator. There was no warning in the catalog that it had a pre-chill requirement, a process with which I have had very little luck previously. However, even if it fails to germinate, I have a selection of old and trusted varieties to fill in the garden and hanging baskets: Gazanias, Cosmos, Rudbeckia, Ageratum, Petunias...oh, and a package of radish seeds, free for placing the order. It's those last ones I worry about. I can't grow vegetables worth a darn!

Uze Yoar Dickshunarry

Day 120: Ah, yes! Another find from Mineral, the Land Of Creative Spelling And Grammar. Having worked as a "poorfeeder" for a small magazine in my younger years, these things tend to grab my eye and cement themselves into memory. Mineral seems to have a corner on the market for jewels like this one which, ironically, is spelled correctly on the reverse. Perhaps that accounts for my tendency to go into Mineral via one road and home on another.

Crow's Eye

Day 119: Day 119: Most of my self-portraits involve one of three things, a) my relationship with the outdoors, b) costumery or c) a galloping fit of the sillies. In the first case, I have posed on trail in every season of the year or in my Park Service uniform. In the second case, I have appeared variously as a schoolmarm from the md-1800s, a belly-dancer, a pirate, a member of the crew of the starship Enterprise D, a desperado on a wanted poster, and a variety of other different disguises. Admittedly, the b) category could largely be put into the same file as the c) category, but I generally reserve c) for such things as the madwoman behind the bathroom door or the head isolated on a fencepost. The one thing I had not done yet was a shot which I have admired in other photographers' portfolios: a high-key artsy shot with the camera half-concealing the face. There is nothing of the outdoors, silliness or costumery in this image (seriously, there is NO costumery, if you take my meaning) and post-processing saved the day by rescuing an otherwise lacklustre shot.

Pushing beyond your comfort zone...that's what photography is all about. Without a willingness to explore new ideas and techniques, you can have no growth as a photographer.

Grow Toward The Light

Day 118: Remember those French pussywillows from January 26th? They're shedding their catkins like crazy and putting on little green leaves to replace them, and a few days ago, I noticed something which didn't look at all like a lichen or a piece of moss. It was too tiny to tell for sure, but the following morning when I looked at the jar where it was sitting in my sunny kitchen window, it had developed into an obvious white root approximately a quarter of an inch long. On the next morning, it had grown to almost an inch and had lots of company. Yes, every twig picked from that broken branch has now put on a handsome collection of roots.

These starts will live in water (refreshed at least every other day) until all danger of frost is past. Then I will plant them in gallon pots sunk in the ground, and there they will remain for a year, the root systems confined. The following spring, they'll be transplanted to various spots in the yard and hopefully some day before I'm too old to appreciate them, I will have my own French pussywillow bush budding out in January.

Travertine Mound

Day 117: The Trail of the Shadows is a quick half-mile loop, mere steps from the Administration Building at Longmire where I work. There are many intriguing features to be seen, among them an easily accessible travertine mound and also Iron Mike, one of the more famous springs in the area.

Quoting from the interpretive sign at the beginning of the short side trail, "The brown mound next to this boardwalk is called a travertine mound. Travertine is composed of soft, white calcium carbonate minerals, primarily calcite and aragonite. Only the warmest springs in this meadow form travertine mounds. As warm spring water reaches the surface, trapped carbon dioxide gas is released into the air, and carbonate minerals are deposited. Small amounts of iron rich minerals stain the travertine to give these mounds their brown color."

While not as colorful as the travertine mounds of Yellowstone National Park, Longmire Meadows' specimens are nevertheless fascinating examples of the same geologic process. The temperature of the hot spring encourages the growth of algae on the mineral-rich mud surrounding the spring's vent, and on cold mornings, it's not uncommon to see these small pools of water steaming as they bubble.

Windy Ridge Trail

Day 116: When I got up this morning, I started getting ready for the workday at Mt. Rainier National Park, but shortly, the phone rang and once again, I was rescheduled. Flexibility is the key here, and that was part of the arrangement I made before I started. As long as I have advance notice that I'll be working, the day makes no difference to me.

That said, I settled into my chair to play "Angry Birds," not giving a thought to the beautiful weather developing outside my window. When the sun streamed in and blinded me, I laid the game aside and looked out onto the promise of a 50-degree February day. My conscience wouldn't let me rest, so I packed up my gear and headed down to Charles L. Pack Experimental Forest with no particular goal in mind. I did want to see the extent of the ice storm's damage, even though I knew it had been cleared from the roads.

The hike begins at the administration buildings. The public is prohibited from motorized access to the roads, so a two-mile walk takes you to Kirkland Pass where you have a number of different choices. Kirkland is a five-way intersection of roads, and three trails are close at hand. I thought about making the 2000 Rd. loop for a day's total of eight miles, but decided that was too far for the lateness of the day. Besides, I hadn't had a storm-damage report for the Windy Ridge Trail, only for the roads.

As it turned out, I did 7.5 miles anyway, the trail being much more interesting than the road would have been. I found very little debris down on the trail and only one very small tree I actually had to step over. And Windy Ridge lived up to its name today! The trail follows a line between mature timber and young reprod, and those tall trees were whipping and swaying in the wind. Still, all in all, it was a great day to be out in boots!

Sky Geometry

Day 115: While visiting my fishing buddy today, I happened to glance up through one of his living-room skylights and thought it would make an interesting shot for the Kelly DeLay's Clouds365 Project in which I've been participating for the last three years. With the camera pointed upward and the flip screen tilted at an odd angle, I attempted to frame the sky within the geometry of the window, maintaining uniformity in the borders surrounding the blue. I quickly discovered it wasn't going to be as easy as I thought! As I moved the camera in the direction I felt it should go, the square distorted and the surrounding white space went all out of balance due to the fact that the skylight is set in a pitched roof. After several unsuccessful and amusing attempts to align the image the way I wanted, I gave up and laid on my back beneath the hole. I couldn't help thinking of "2001: A Space Odyssey" or a door into an alternate reality.

Dang!

Day 114 (bonus edition): Honest-and-truly, I really have been reading Kilham's "The American Crow and Common Raven," at least in between bouts of playing "Angry Birds" on my new Kindle Fire. Addictive? Nah, I can quit any time. Just because I don't usually stay up until 11:30 doesn't mean I never do, and it doesn't do me any harm to eat dinner an hour and a half late.

Yes, I have gotten all the way through the first episode, "Poached Eggs." Now I am going back to convert all my one- and two-star scores to three stars. This is page one of three. I seem to be stuck on level 21.

I swear they say things. I'm positive I've heard, "Fire away!" and one of the little blue birds who can only break glass says what sounds very like he needs his beak washed out with soap. The pigs...do they really make fun of the birds when they bounce? I'm sure they're muttering, "That hurt!"

I've discovered that the obvious plan of attack is not always the most rewarding, and that if you spend your efforts trying to get a high score because you're sure you know how to destroy the fortifications, you're wasting your time. If you're stuck, try a different strategy, and watch the placement and alignment of your launch carefully. Many times you get good results when feathers line up with shrubs or the background when you pull the slingshot back. That said, here I am on level 21, right where I've been for three hours now. Dang.

Wren Bell

Day 114: Bells have a special magic for me, and in my home, you may run into them frequently and quite literally. Hanging on either side of the arch leading into the hallway are two long strings of Bells of Sarna, almost unavoidable as you pass between them. In another doorway, a group of beaded strands are arranged as an ornament, each with a bell at the nether end. The Bells of Sarna are within reach of kitty paws and sometimes are even set to ringing by a high-held tail in the dark hours of the night.

The bells shown in this image hang from the fireplace mantel. Each has a unique note, ranging from quite high (the wren and the pinecone) to deep and rich (the brass). It sometimes amuses me to walk down the line ringing them, bright music in a house where silence is the rule rather than the exception.

Mineral Lake Boat House

Day 113: Mineral Lake Resort stands only a few doors down from the public fishing area and boat ramp with this boat house in a small bay between them. One often sees ducks, geese and even otters here, at least when children and dogs are not present. The paint-free cedar construction has protected it from moisture and has weathered until it almost seems to be a part of the environment.

Rainey Creek Ramble

Day 112: Little Rainey Creek is flowing at capacity, something it only does during the rainy season, and no, the name is not a misspelling of "rainy." I do not know who Mr. Rainey was, but his name was attached to this lovely stream in a wetland managed by Cowlitz Wildlife. The wetland is a birdwatcher's paradise, and today I saw Golden-Crowned Kinglets and Chestnut-Backed Chickadees flocking together as they are wont to do. Shy of humans here, I was unable to capture either species in the camera, a story which repeats every time I encounter these elusive birds. That said, if you visit Rainey Creek in any season but the dead of winter, be sure you take an abundant supply of mosquito repellent! Those insect-eating birds love the area for a good reason.

New Toy

Day 111: Blame "Angry Birds." I've been waffling about getting a Kindle e-reader for some time now, and what really finalized my decision wasn't the availability of Lawrence Kilham's "The American Crow and Common Raven" (affordable in the Kindle edition, but not otherwise) or the complete works of Charles Dickens free of charge, it was "Angry Birds." I was at a young friend's birthday party and his dad passed it over to me on his Kindle Fire. I'm not much for your typical video/computer games as a general rule. I much prefer to sit down with a book of sudoku or kakuro puzzles for some mental calisthenics. Somehow those goofy wingless birds just struck my funnybone. I'm sure I'll tire of it quickly, but by then I should have been able to get the password to the wi-fi at work and will then be able to keep myself amused with Kilham and Dickens.

Footnote: just got invited for dinner and a wi-fi session! Thanks, Kevin!