Midnight In The Marsh

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Deep in the backwaters of the marsh where the wild things live, strange events take place. A late feeding Roseate Spoonbill is working the edge of the reeds, sweeping its large bill back and forth along the estuaries bottom hoping for a quick meal as the moon breaks through the clouds illuminating it. This is a particularly dangerous place to be after dark. The whole marsh can be dangerous but this stretch happens to be on a channel where the slow flowing water enters from the Gulf and as such is a natural highway for the large scaly predators that glide quietly along looking its length looking for that unsuspecting meal.

There is little sound on a calm windless night here in the marsh other than the occasional call of a bird settling in for the night, or the soft susurrations of the long slender reeds rubbing together, their quietest murmuring barely breaking the silence as the sluggish water moves them to and fro.

There is one sound however that all of the wading birds learn to listen for and that is the sound of a powerful tail rippling back and forth just beneath the surface of the water propelling its owner forward in an otherwise silent glide. There is little to see in the dark water as the perfectly camouflaged predator patrols the channel. The eddies formed by the tails movement drift into the reed’s edge causing a slight rustling sound slightly louder than normal. If it weren’t for the occasional low popping sound from the bubbles formed by the rapidly swirling eddies, little whirlpools caused by the powerful tail whipping back and forth, this midnight killing machine would be totally silent.

You don’t grow up into an adult here unless you’ve mastered the skills necessary to stay alive. The spoonbill, nervous at being alone, is hyper-vigilant and at the first slight echo of anything out of the ordinary takes flight for a safer roost, its feeding done for the night. The gator pauses for a brief moment, listening to the sound of the spoonbills departure, he’s not worried about missing this one opportunity, he knows that there are other places where the birds feels safe and roost too close to the water’s edge. He’ll feed tonight. It just won’t be on Roseate Spoonbill.

Stored Away Storms

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Today is kind of a rainy, snowy, a little hail-y, wet sort of day here at The Institute. There’s a reason for that. Mostly because it’s still sort of wintry, or on the tail end of it anyways, and the second is because we need to use up our stored away storms or lose them. That’s right The Institute has a program where we store up moisture-laden storms for future use.

Many of you long-time readers know that The Institute is renowned for its weather modification program. Virtually since the beginning days of The Institute in the far distant past, we have been active in controlling weather. At the beginning it was a modest program. If it was raining we’d just go back into the house so we wouldn’t get wet, or we’d squat down behind the half-track when the wind was blowing so we didn’t wind up in Kansas somewhere. Gentle but successful modifications. Some say it was more of a reaction to the weather rather than a bona fide modification but you have to start somewhere. As time passed our programs got more sophisticated. We built machinery that could modify the weather around The Institute’s campus, then farther and farther away as we could afford more D-cells to power the energy hungry weather modification machine. We’d make it rain in the summer when the asparagus was wilting, or have a little snow storm in June just to make the tourists freak out. Now we can make California go crazy if we want with rain storms, Tsunamis etc., and we’re right on the edge of being able to scare the hell out of Hawaii.

Naturally we use this power for good.

We have developed a program over the last few years on the storing of moisture for future use. We went through a period of drought here at The Institute. Years of nothing but hot sunny days and no rain. There were a lot of problems. The trees would sweat, Chickens quit laying, we had to shift our entire inventory of 10w-30 motor oil to 10w-90 so the oil in our vehicles wouldn’t wimp out and seize up from overheating, our interns were forced to wear skimpy clothing when they wore any at all. Social upheaval ran rampant. Times were desperate. Something had to be done.

 We began a program with a Federal government, ours, and various water boards and other institutions around the state where we would capture and store individual storms before they had a chance to run out over the countryside and discharge all their moisture in the form of rain or snow, or in some cases dangerous clumps of ice that could cause injury and property damage if they fell onto anything unsuspecting. After lots of trial and error our meteorologists and mechanical engineers here at The Institute discovered a practical way to store these storms so they could be brought out later and used when needed. They developed a proprietary algorithm that can compress any storm to 45% of its original volume while maintaining all of its energy. This was a pretty cool feat to accomplish on the wages we pay.

Due to a delay with the patent office over whether it is morally or ethically proper to take over this much control of a natural phenomenon for our own personal gain, that being the weather, (we of course maintain the position that “Hey! We thought of it. You guys didn’t so we should be able to make a buck here.”) and since they haven’t given us a decision yet, we can’t tell you how our storage process works. Sorry. We have to keep it secret. What if somebody bad stole it for their own nefarious uses, like North Korea, or some company Trump owns. Then where would we be?

One of the small little issues to be worked out with our program is the cost of maintaining the storage situation for all these storms. The storage units we use (the U-Lock It, You Better Pay On Time Storage Center) wants us to pay a month in advance, every month whether we have storms stored there or not, and renting an entire section of storage units is very costly, and because sometimes the autopay from The Institute’s checking account doesn’t clear in time, they’ve threatened to lock us out and just dump the storms out on the sidewalk so to speak. Well that would be, like, catastrophic. So we can only store so many storms before we have to release some back into the weather whether we want to or not. They have an expiration date.

So due to a critical underfunding problem we can only rent so many storage units and purchase all of the batteries for all the storm compactors we need, and then we run out of space and we have to release our storms approximately a year after we put them in storage. You can only jam so many storms in one of the those lockers before things get tight. Note: We inadvertently let a portion of our secret proprietary storage method leak out here. Please disregard it and do not tell your friends and/or neighbors what you read here today. Thank you, The Director. P.S. It could screw us up big time in our patent application if somebody figured out our system and beat us to the punch. Thanks. T.D.

That’s what’s happening today. The small storm you see in the image above was captured up in Rocky Mountain National Park in the early fall of 2014 and had already gone past it’s “use by” date so it had to be dumped today. We get a lot of flack from the uninformed public over our dump days. Complaints like “Yesterday was in the low 60’s you yahoos, and today you dump a storm with rain, hail and 40° temps? What the hell were you thinking?, and it’s Monday too.” They don’t understand it is “use it or lose it”.  Hopefully if we get bigger and more important we will be large enough to just ignore the ignorant and do whatever we want, kind of like the government does. That’ll be a Day to remember. Anyway that’s why we got a wet and cold one today folks, just remember “We need the moisture”.

Crow Elder – Time Keeper

This post has been moved to OpenChutes.com. All future postings of Powwows, Indian Relay Races, Rodeos and Rendezvous will be posted there from now on exclusively. So if you’re looking for new images and posts for all those events attended this year, plus all the old posts posted on BigShotsNow.com check out OpenChutes.com. See you there!

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When photographing the Crow Fair last year I noticed how many of the elders of the tribe so easily fit into the duality of the moment. On one hand they were a large part of the present yet fit so naturally into the past. It was as if they were caught between time. You could easily imagine them shifting between now and then effortlessly. Their clothes draped on them so naturally, they held the trappings that they carried as if they were never out of their hands, and their faces showed the wealth of years of experience and memories. It would not be difficult to imagine them revisiting their heritage by slipping back and forth between time. Perhaps they do in their memories.

Elders in the tribes are held with the utmost respect and are included in the forefront of all the ceremonies and activities. In practically every major event there is a color guard that opens the activities and it is a mixture of young and old with the older participants in the front of the procession. They are a proud people and it shows in everything they do. This Crow gentleman was one of the color guard participants and his patience and serene demeanor was an example for all.

It was my pleasure and honor to be able to photograph the members of the Crow tribe and I will be periodically featuring them through out the year.

A Tree Grows In Arches

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It’s Spring and a young man’s fancy lightly turns to …. the Southwest. Well an old man’s thoughts turn to the Southwest, anyway. There’s more than one kind of love you know. It’s still cold at night and nippy during the day here in the mountains of Northern Colorado but you can tell we’ve turned a corner. Sure we’re still going to get some snow and it’ll be cold for a short while but nothing like the soul-numbing cold of deep winter.

Right now the conditions are almost perfect for visiting the Southwest. It’s warm enough during the day that you don’t need a jacket but not the skin block sneering, turn you bright scarlet heat you find mid-summer. The desert is waking up. Trees are budding out, some of the earlier wildflowers are poking their little noses out of the ground. Animals are more visible as they go about getting nests ready for having their young. The rangers are nice because they haven’t seen all that many people yet and the oppressive clouds of tourists are still a month or so away so they’re not as quick to shoot you in the leg if you happen to stray of the trail a wee bit.

And the light. The light of early Spring in the afternoon when the sun is just considering going behind the mountains is as gorgeous as any place you will find in the world. If you pay attention and don’t forget to click the shutter you can sometimes stumble upon a scene like this. After you get the picture it’s ok to just stand there and let this experience fill your soul until it is not only brimming over but saturated to the point where you will remember it forever. It is time to fire up the Bokeh Maru, load the camera gear, and point it south, no roadmaps needed. Just follow the color. When you think it can’t get any better than this you’re there. Enjoy.

Jack Rabbit

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Lots of people don’t know jack about rabbits. If you ask these people about rabbits, like, “So What do you know about rabbits?” many of them will simply say I don’t know jack and walk away. But there is a lot to know about rabbits. Much more than say, aardvarks or 3 toed sloths or even dogs and cats, of which very much is known.

Rabbits have played a huge part in history down through the ages. Take for instance the Easter bunny. There is a bunch of weird but strange facts about how a rabbit and especially one that lays chocolate covered Easter eggs in a basket full of fake green grass made of green cellophane, came to be the head of a multi-gazillion dollar marketing campaign that has spread around the world.

For instance how is the succession of rabbits chosen to be the one true Easter rabbit amongst all the rabbits of the world. How does that work? There are a freaking huge amount of rabbits in virtually every country on the globe, how do they choose that one that will be the head of the rabbit world for the rest of his life. The Head Rabbit that hands down decrees, visits poor children and homeless rabbits around the world, makes decisions and choices which will affect faithful rabbits everywhere, and gets to wear neat Easter rabbit clothes and live in a colossal warren where he is the Big Clover forever.

To answer that we went to the source, which is Hutton Lake National Wildlife Refuge in Wyoming. Wyoming is like Rome to rabbits, and Hutton lake is like the Vatican. This is where anything of importance to rabbits spiritual lives happens. Special envoys are sent from rabbit colonies all around the world to be part of the organization that handles rabbit doctrine. And the single biggest, most important part of their rabbit lives is when an Easter bunny dies and a new one must be chosen.

After the mourning period is over the rest of the rabbits get down to the critical business of selecting the new Easter rabbit. First among equals of each delegation are chosen, then those most important of rabbits are locked in a big cage together and cannot leave until they have unanimously chosen the new Easter rabbit. This can be an extremely contentious time with much un-rabbit like discussion and occasional ear pulling, and the occasional well placed thump from an extra large hind foot. Each delegation has an interest in the new Easter rabbit, as this gives much prestige to their colonies back home but more importantly allows their regional viewpoints to be heard and hopefully implemented.

Each day is spent in reflection, discussions, maneuvering, imploring, deal making, whatever it takes to come to a consensus. At the end of each day a vote is taken and if there is no unanimous decision amongst them the rabbits burn a sage brush treated to produce black smoke. This means no new Easter rabbit was chosen. The next day they repeat the process until they finally come to a unanimous decision on which of them will become the new Easter rabbit. When the decision is made they burn some sage treated to create white smoke and the multitudes of rabbits waiting impatiently for the newest Easter rabbit to be chosen, let out squeaks and cries of ecstasy and joy that can be heard for miles. In fact it can be heard around the world as news travels at the speed of light and informs the faithful that there is a new Easter rabbit.

Within days the factories crank up production of chocolate facsimiles of the new Easter Rabbit, chocolate covered Easter eggs are flying off the assembly line, tons and tons of fake green grass is produced and marshmallow chicks and rabbits are quickly packaged and loaded onto 18 wheelers for delivery to big box stores around the country. The Easter business is back in business.

Meanwhile back at Hutton lake the conclave of important rabbits has disassembled and gone back to the business at hand of running one of the biggest groups of mammals on the planet. It won’t belong until we see the fruits of their labors as Easter is just around the corner. Hopefully there will be enough chocolate covered everything to go around. If this new Easter bunny has his way there will be. And that’s a good thing.

Sing A Song Of Morning

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We’re not the only ones that find joy in the first light of morning. Our companions on this big blue ball hurtling through space find as much pleasure in the beginning of the day as we do. For some it means that they’ve made it through another night and celebrate the gift of another day. For others it may just be the colors and freshness of the light that gives them reason to address the morning.

This plover seems to be one of those that is finding the colors of the morning require some comment. Perhaps a word of thanks, or a call to the universe to say it is here and alive and glad of it. I belong to that camp. Just take it in. Be immersed in the moment. Be glad you’re alive. Sing a song of the morning just because you can.