Horn Tooting

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I have just found out that a famous international software company has chosen this image “Bosque Sunrise” to illustrate how a feature in their software works. Besides being a real ego boost this allows many, many people who use this software, or are considering it, to see my work. Thanks to them for including me.

This image was created at Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge in New Mexico on a cold winter morning several years ago. Bosque, as it is usually called, is located on a major flyway and noted for having extraordinary populations of Snow Geese and Sandhill cranes. It was taken moments before the entire population of Snow Geese erupted off the surface of the pond in a massive liftoff called the ascension. This is a daily event where literally thousands of birds fly a few yards over your head in a loud roar of honking, calling and flapping their wings as they leave the ponds to start their day. They are so close you can hear individual wing beats and feel the rush of air as they stream by overhead. It’s all over in a minute or two and suddenly the pond is quiet again. It is like Avian fireworks and is an unforgettable experience. In fact birders, photographers, and tourists arrive from all over the world to do just that. It feels good to have some of your work recognized.

This was a nice way to start the day.

Into The Sun

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I don’t know what’s happening around your house but here at the Institute the weather is changing. The other day I went out to make the rounds of the compound and chase the flickers off the side of the our main building and was suddenly struck with the fact that it smelled different. Not different like a teenagers room but different like you could almost smell the, and I’m going to have to speak very frankly here using language that may leave some of the more delicate among you lying on the floor gasping for air, “SNOW” in the air. I’m only going to use the ‘S’ word once here for fear of putting it in the minds of the weather gods and speeding up the process even more.

We’re not done with Summer yet. It’s only the end of August. Yeah I know all about the season’s change and it’s getting near Labor day and all that crap. I don’t care. It was cold the other morning and it seemed like it could do the white wet deed on us any time it felt like it. That’s not fair. I want to know why we pay all this money for taxes to send those phony-baloney congress people to Washington if they can’t do a simple thing like give us enough summer. They can change time whenever they feel like it, taking an hour here, giving it back there, why can’t they extend summer, like another month. I mean, I’d vote for a guy like that, even if he was a crooked, lying, womanizer from Arkansas, with a mean wife.

The Sandhill crane above feels the same way. Just the other day he was stuffing his gizzard with corn from  the farmer’s field and now the water is getting cold, the days are shorter and he has to make a thousand mile flight somewhere just to stay warm. He is plenty cheesed off about it I can tell you. Normally he would laze around in the pond for a couple extra hours in the morning, just kicking back, taking life easy, hanging with his friends, letting the warm water flow all around his three toes, now everybody is up at the crack of dawn running around in the water, waiting for the sun to come up so they can get flying and warm up.

That red spot on his head we’ve discovered, is actually a solar collector and by the crane pointing it into the sun it warms the blood flowing through it and sends it down to his feet and the rest of his body so he can stand in that frigid water. In the late fall and winter there’s less sun so less warmth, so his blood gets cold , his wife gets irritable, and the next thing you know he and Margaret are flying off to the sunny shores of South America or wherever, where they don’t have Fall or the ‘S’ word. This exclusive bit of knowledge is the result of one of our many grants going right for once. This one was titled “Why are some tall birds red on the head? Is this Nature’s way of singling them out or simply a fashion statement?” That one was worth 2.9 mil in grant money. See why we do this? This is encouraging to us here at The Institute and we intend to file many more.

But there’s a lesson here people, and I think it is ‘get on your elected representative’s butt’ and let him know we’re mad as hell and aren’t going to take it anymore. Since term limits don’t scare them anymore use words like impeachment, or no more donations, that’ll get their attention. Otherwise we all better start learning Spanish if we don’t want to stay here freezing our keesters off. Know what I mean?

P.S. I don’t want a bunch of letters from you eleven people that like winter and snow and cold. I don’t care if you like to ski, or tramp around in the snow with stuff freezing  on the end of your nose. I don’t care if it’s pretty or you like to catch dull-normal fish through a hole in the ice. I don’t care if you like to lick snow off the sides of trees. This is an aberration and you should seek medical help as soon as you can, or at least move to Northern Wisconsin where this is considered normal activity. But don’t waste our time by trying to sell us on the merits of the wonders of winter. The rest of us are trying to book flights out of here.

Did You See That !

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Whoa….Dude! Did you see that?

No Way

OMG Did he really….

That is not possible

WTF. What was he thinking?

He must have got into some bad grain.

You think !

I know that is going to hurt

HeySoos Christy, what do you think he’s going to say to her.

Too late, Oh man….

I cannot believe I just saw that.

Me neither

Wonder where he found that grain

I don’t know man but I want some.

Any of you guys get a picture of that?

That was totally awesome !

OK then, anyone want to get lunch?

Conversations Overheard

Conversations Overheard2125Sandhill Cranes Yellowstone                 click to enlarge

Inadvertent Eavesdropping. You know the kind where you’re walking along and you suddenly hear a snippet of conversation from the people passing by, or you’re seated at a coffee shop and the next table is talking just loud enough that you cannot help but overhear. The little bit you do overhear is just tantalizing enough that you want to hear more, you want the rest of the story, but they move away or lower their voices and you can’t hear the finish.

It makes you want to run after them and ask how it turned out, or ask what did they say then, or even add something from what you would have said. This doesn’t make you a bad person. We’re conditioned by our surroundings to want to be included, after all if they’re saying it loud enough for you to hear, they must want you to participate, or at least give you enough information so that you’re not thinking about it all afternoon.

When seeing these two Sandhill cranes walking together apparently having one of those kind of conversations where you talk about everything and nothing, just letting the words roll over you, getting more comfort from the sounds than the content, you can image what they might be saying.

“Yeah I landed in the corn field next to him and all of sudden he’s all like, what are you doing here, don’t be following me around. Remember what I told you the last time…”

“I’m sure she’s sorry for going to that party. I warned her those birds were no good, now she’s laying eggs all over the place and hasn’t a clue who the …..”

“That damn Ray Everett, he let Cleda get hooked on the that weird grain they’re raising over at that research place and now she hasn’t been watching the kids and she let them fool around at the edge of the pond and that coyote came along and before you could say….”

” I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately, I can’t remember how to get back to the refuge and yesterday I landed at the…”

“You can’t be serious. You’re going to be laying more eggs? We haven’t gotten the last batch out of the nest yet. We can’t afford….”

“Yeah then he showed up molting with half his feathers gone and wanted to…”

” I saw a couple of the those two-legged things back behind some bushes and they must have been having a hell of a fight because they had torn each others clothes half  off and one was ….”

“I am sick to death of this back and forth, back and forth, why don’t we find a place and just stay….”

“It’s nice  today isn’t it? I just love it when the suns out and the winds not blowing. I could stay here for…..”

“Is that guy listening to us? I’m going to go over there and shove my beak up….”

All right folks, time to head back to the truck. I’ve got places to be and I’ve got to see if whats-her-face is still willing to….”

Night Patrol

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There are unsung heroes in the animal world and this squadron of Sandhill cranes on Night Patrol are some of the best and bravest. Every evening as the sun goes down and the main flock settles in for the night, these brave birds take off on a lonely mission to patrol the shorelines around the nesting ponds at Bosque del Apache.

They watch for predators, the ponds are shallow and it would only take one enterprising coyote in hip boots to decimate the flock as it was peacefully sleeping. Those who have fallen asleep in the reeds are monitored closely for smoking as one careless individual with a cigarette could ignite the whole pond causing untold destruction. And of course there are the owls and eagles, those Raptors of the Darkness. Most dangerous of all they’re like the Pawnee in Dances with Wolves, big screaming devils that swoop down out of the sky when they’re least expected and steal young Sandhills who stray too far from their parents, leaving behind only ripples and the occasional blood-flecked feather to mark the passing of the unlucky.

It’s a thankless dangerous job flying at night without lights or instruments for guidance and there is the occasional tragic accident where one of these watchers in the night are lost after hitting the high tension lines near the ponds. When you see that bright orange flash against the coal black sky and hear that soul wrenching squawk you know we’ve lost another one. Some have also become disoriented and flown off into the darkness to wake up in Mexico or alone on the Tundra cold and weary. But they persevere night after night, ignoring the cold, the loneliness, the danger, doing their duty, flying the night skies to protect those below, taking the risks so that the ones at rest can wake to a safer dawn.

Thank you Night Patrol, Thanks IronBeak and RocketButt, Thanks CoyoteSniffer and Blivet, you big lug, Thank you IceBird and DivetMaker for all those crazy landings and thank you all the nameless ones that have gone before you. Thanks for keeping the night safe for the innocents and for being true heroes. We salute you.

A Remarkable Discovery

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For some time one of our more promising projects here at the Institute has been in the field of Thermodynamics as Applied to Migrating Species as a Method of Determining Geospatial Locations and Direction. Or in other words “How do birds like the Sandhill crane know where they are and how they got there as well as where they’re going and how they’re going to get back”. I know right, That’s a big hairy question.

As you know we send out researchers to all parts of the globe to study thorny problems like these. Most of them have had some training in the field that they’re working in, especially the PhD’s, and those that we can trust to come back, are provided with all the necessary equipment and materials to do a bang up job. To ensure they do we hold back their per diem until we get results and as they get hungry we usually have an immediate inflow of data. It’s been found through trial and error that not feeding them until the uplink starts working, regularly gets more uniform results. Send us data, we send you a Hostess Ho-Ho. That’s our deal.

What about the quality of the data you might ask, well go ahead ask, it had better be good that’s all we say, the data, I mean. We have a dialup connection to the internet where we can cross check this information, so they better not try any funny stuff. The internet is pretty darn powerful and full of information, sometimes I wonder why we even bother sending some of these people out on these jobs, but we’ve found that dialup is so slow that many times we can send someone to Dubai for instance, and get the data back by UPS faster than we can over our dialup connection. Our ISP has told us that there is something new on the horizon called DSL that will work really, really fast and if we get caught up on our bill and stay current for 36 months they will install it here at the Institute. Then those guys better watch out.

The initial data we have received is promising if not electrifying.  Our researchers tell us that on some of the more remarkable birds they have found a direct connection to the Sandhills cranes ability to get somewhere and our project. It appears that some of the more mature cranes have primary feathers that are actually IFR sensors that are hard-wired directly into their bird brains and that as soon as their wing tips are struck by the early morning rays of the sun, their primary feathers turn golden with the heat of a non-sensical bio-directional whammy, chock full of data, and they get all the information they need to get wherever they are going.

It’s an instant download, apparently from one of those super-secret spy satellites that we used to use to spy on Cuba, that gives them real-time information on wind-speed, barometric pressure, GPS coordinates, maps, updates on how successful the NRA has been in expanding Sandhill Crane hunting seasons, a currency converter, what kind of harvest they had in the Ukraine, a universal translator so they can talk to cranes from any country, etc. Anything and everything they need to know in a nano-second. If you have ever seen one of these cranes falter as they begin their ascent, or gone all over wonky of a sudden, that was exactly when the download hit. The feathers light up, their little bird brains go all Jesus Christo and it’s done. They got it. The reason all cranes do not have this ability is due to the fact that it takes a mature, reasonable, old brain to receive this mega load of info and that means a mature stable adult.

Of course any theory this important must be tested to make sure our researchers aren’t making this crap up, and test it we did. Since one of our researchers here at the Institute is a fallen away NSA techie and knew all the frequencies that those old Cuba spy satellites used, we were able to reprogram his remote that he uses to fly his new HydroSpiff drone and take over control of some of the Sandhill cranes leaders and make them do all kinds of goofy stuff.

He made them fly straight down the highway about 8 feet off the ground to see how many Winnebago’s he could put in the ditch. He’d take the flock up to about 800′ and make them spell out dirty words. But the kicker that nearly got the entire program shut down was when he had them occupy the drive thru at the Socorro McDonald’s so no one could order. Man you do not mess with the franchises  during peak periods. Those guys know people. They had the FCC down there so fast we barely had time to hide the gear and say “No we don’t know nothing about that”.

So far the research looks promising, it’s not done yet but we’re saying there’s a paper in here, and we’re going to publish. Nature, Scientific American, Ham Operators Gazette, Huffington Post, we don’t care. We publish, we get paid. Remember it’s the Institute bringing you the information the others won’t print. So watch for it at a newsstand near you.

Sandhill Reeds

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Sandhill Cranes will nest almost anywhere. They have been seen nesting on tiny little islands on Floating Island lake in Yellowstone National Park, out in the middle of open fields and in the case of this one, in a field of reeds that make up a small wetlands in the Blacktail creek area.

Choosing a field of reeds doesn’t seem like an unusual place to nest until you factor in bad luck. Normally this Sandhill crane could count on brooding her eggs without mishap, unless an opportunistic coyote came along and tried for an easy meal. But what she didn’t know was her nesting place was in a natural crossing area for some of the parks main predators, a pack of wolves on one side and a black bear on the other. Blacktail flats sees a lot of animal movement. The blacktail pack of wolves moves through the area constantly and it is also a place black bears seem to like.

This day I was shooting the Blacktail pack of wolves devouring a buffalo carcass on her right and if you could look to her left there is a small pond like many that dot this Blacktail Flats area, which is out of the frame. Swimming across the pond was a good-sized black bear.

All of this activity was taking place in an area perhaps 300 yards across. First I’d shoot the wolves for a while then I’d swing the lens over to the pond with the bear in it and then back to the wolves again. As I made the traverse I noticed movement in my view finder and up pops this Sandhill crane who had the misfortune to put her nest in the middle of the wildlife freeway.

The bear was obviously hungry and spent his time rooting around digging in the ground for grubs, eating grass and slowly working his way towards the Sandhills nest. The wolves were too busy finishing off the buffalo carcass and hadn’t noticed the bear. If they had it would have been very likely they would have run right over the crane and her nest to run the bear off. Helping themselves to the crane and her eggs on the way. They don’t like to  share. But she never flinched or made any movement that gave away her position. The bear noticed the wolves, the wolves noticed the bear. The bear took off rather than deal with seven or eight wolves and the wolves stayed and finished off the carcass. And the Sandhill crane put her head back down and didn’t move a feather, and what could have been major drama was over as fast as it started.

It’s unusual to get that much wildlife activity in a small area like that but every once in a while the photographer gets lucky. So did the crane.