summer_jackel

I was certified for scuba diving with four wonderful friends in Monterey this weekend, and it was wonderful. I have coveted the ability to dive since that I learned what it was (I remember the moment; I was pretty young, and my mother very firmly emphasized how dangerous it was). As an adult, the equipment and perceived difficulty and expense in gaining the skill intimidated me, and despite my obsession with marine life and looking for it in the wild (in tidepools, up until now), I don't know that I'd have done it if friends hadn't had the idea and poked me. How fortunate I am.

It turns out that the equipment is relatively straightforward once one understands its use, its danger is not great if one takes proper care, and that obtaining certification was quite manageable. It's hard to explain how just delighted I am to have had this experience.

On our second dive, while hanging around under about 20 feet of water, holding onto a rope anchored in the sandy bottom of Monterey Bay and taking turns doing exercises, I saw a wild octopus. It was tiny, and the color of sand. It held very still, tentacles pulled in close and curled slightly upwards. I wouldn't have seen it if one of my companions had not pointed it out, and it quickly took its chance to disappear down one of the many tiny burrows that lines the seafloor. It was enchanting and beautiful. I hardly expected to achieve one of my life ambitions in wildlife-watching on my first weekend of diving.

So yeah, I want to do that lots more.

I managed to see a lot for relatively short dives in which our time was mostly spent doing the necessary certification exercises. (I hope that my mask never again has reason to be all the way off under water; it was a very sensible thing for us to learn how to deal with, but man, I hated that). Wild otters came very close on both days, hoping that our float contained abalone. Other sealife I spotted included a beautiful fish that I am reasonably certain (after a lot of time spent with my fish book and google) a black perch, a sculpin of some kind, a couple of truly enormous giant stars and sea cucumbers. There were oodles of bat stars everywhere, and I saw one gorgeous sunflower star. I have a very healthy respect for those; I have met them in tidepools, and they are very fast and inquisitive if you offer to touch one. I will not be offering to touch one the size of my face any time soon.

There was a glorious garden of tube-dwelling anemones, some with beautiful black tentacles, and cute little strawberry anemones.

A bunch of adorable juvenile sanddabs scuttled around on the sandy bottom, and a diving cormorant, who wasn't in the least bit concerned about us and practically brushed against us as it dove past. (That photo may not be the same species of cormorant, but you get the idea).

It was amazing and I loved it.

The Earth turned, the weather changed. We will have more hard storms and cold times, I'm sure, but spring has come here even if things haven't started growing yet. Have some pictures.



( azillion photos. One is of a spider. )

Marie Lake was one of the most lovely I've seen.



( more )

Just a walk through the end of summer.

I am really happy with this shot.



( Bees and butterflies and collies )

I've been meaning to make this post for a couple of months now, and just haven't; things have been busy. This was originally going to be a photoessay celebrating my resident gastropods, but as I was looking through the unposted pictures from spring, I realized that I have a lot of others as well, so have some flowers, fungus and spiders.

Mostly, it's all about the banana slug love, though. tailypo, this one's for you. :)



( walks when the world was moist; slugs and spiders, dogs and cats )

I was walking through the woods one afternoon in May
when the air was golden, the hills thick green, spotted in wildflowers
between the trees' cool shade
and ahead of me, the insects were awake.

I heard the buzzing
and curious, walked forward to see what they were
---and they were all around me, the air lively,
heavy with their drone.
Hard to focus. I found one. Honey bee.
They had no reason to sting, but still. I did the mental math
and backed out, heart racing, awake.

They were in swarm
a wild swarm
and they danced wildly above the fragrant fields
and spun swiftly down the hill
right now all the world and gone a moment later
like many wonders.

They left me unhurt.
Standing in joy with an empty rolling field
and the memory of that moment when I stood within them, surrounded
by the strength of their festival day, the founding of their hive.

So this week madmanatw and I took a fun little road trip to Vegas (!) to see Cirque du Soleil and the Mojave in bloom. Here are some of my favorite photos to come out of the desert part of the trip.

I'll add more information later, when I'm not so tired. I haven't looked up what any of these things are and don't know Mojave biotia at all, so if you can ID anything positively, please tell me. For now, there are photos. And a really amazing wildlife encounter.



( the Mojave blooms )

ooohkay, I give up. I'm too juiced up from the day to sleep yet, it's spring, I have a ton of energy. I rode 4 hours after having done a set of three 3-hour rides in the past week and followed it today with a 12+ mile hike. I'm apparently now fit enough that this isn't any kind of problem; it felt great and I could totally do it again tomorrow if I didn't have to work. Strong and quieter of sorrow than I've felt in a while. I'm healing.

So here are today's photos that I was going to post later, a few decent shots of a gorgeous place and some just really dumb pictures of my dogs. Once they're up maybe I can convince my body that it's time to get some sleep.

( you know the drill, it's a photopost to eviscerate dialup and I'm rambling about my dogs )

EDIT: WOW, go watch this

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zxa6P73Awcg

Wildlife photographers kick ass. So do leopard seals. I want this guy's book. /fangirls on Paul Nicklen, bigtime/

*

I found this fascinating and beautiful. Mourning behavior observed in ravens:

http://newsminer.com/pages/full_story/push?article-Hundreds+of+birds+seem+to+mourn+deaths+of+fellow+ravens%20&id=4527699-Hundreds+of+birds+seem+to+mourn+deaths+of+fellow+ravens&instance=home_lead_story

I'm convinced that animals do so many complex things we never see because we just aren't looking, or don't know how.

*

Completely unrelated, the quote of the week from my house is probably:
(me to my brother)

"No, I'm actually pretty certain that tequila doesn't count as a vegetable."

*

Coming home late from a dance the other night, I saw a little raccoon in a ditch near my house. I stopped my truck and rolled down the window. We regarded each other for awhile, him rather uncomfortable at being caught out, me completely charmed. It's such a special thing to live in close company with the wild, that there still exists wild to live next to, and his soft fur, the delicacy of his hands, the moist and flexible nose are irreducible. Seeing a wild animal so close is always thrilling, and though I really don't want them killing my chickens, I'd prefer not to actually harm any raccoons over it. Still, we seem to have come to a tense resolution; I lock up the chickens every night, and the yard does tend to contain a wolf and three wannabes, so the hens remain a forbidden temptation to neighborhood procynid palates. I haven't lost any more birds, although when I went to let them out this morning, I noticed a spot where it looks like a raccoon made an abortive attempt to dig into the coop. Hm.

*

On a bike again. I've been off for a week, and now it's time to build some more. Cycles, always cycles, patterns, ebbings and risings of weakness, strength and pain. Guess life is like that.

Here in this forest, the soil is dry and the tan oaks are coming back, recovering from the disease that has ravaged them for several years with soft, fuzzy new growth. It was overcast this morning, and the tops of the redwood and doug fir I am currently staring at are moving restlessly with the first breaths of Autumn. Another year is getting ready to turn.

Elsewhere, the mountains remain high, remote and rarefied.

Here are the rest of my backpacking pictures, Ansel Adams Wilderness...was it barely over a week ago?

Bird people, I need help with another ID. I think he's some sort of warbler; he's, uh, several pictures down, somewhere in there.

The Minarets


( many photos )