Why Sculptures are Frightening

                I slowed and peeked up the hill.  No cars.  I whipped from the private country road onto the public country road.  A minute later blue lights flashed in my rear-view mirror.  My mouth went dry.  I pulled over, wound down the window, and listened to footsteps crunching in the gravel beside the road.   The blue uniform appeared at the window.

                “May I see your license and registration?”

                I glanced up and gave him a smile.  Green eyes glared above a ridged jaw, and one hand rested on the butt of his holstered gun. 

                I handed out my license before sifting through old receipts, napkins, flashlight batteries, wheel-lock keys, and three years’ worth of insurance cards in my glove compartment. 

                “You didn’t come to a complete stop at that intersection.”

                I shot him a wide-eyed glance.  “That is because I was scared.  There was a bear.  I was trying to escape.”

                His green gaze locked on mine.  “A bear?” He glanced around at the Douglas fir, salal, blackberry bushes, and the naked vine maples lining the road.

                “Yes, we have bears.”

                He tilted his head and pursed his lips.  “Um hum.” 

                “We do.”

                “Umm hmmm.”  He pressed the button on the walkie-talkie attached to his shoulder.  “Run the name Melanie Sherman for warrants.”

                “And coyotes, bobcats and really scary dear.”

                He rolled his eyes.  “Show me the bear.”

                I wagged a finger at him.  “Oh, no.  I’m innocent unless you can prove there wasn’t a bear.”

            
  He listened to his radio traffic a few seconds before a semblance of a smile drifted over his lips.  He pushed the button on his shoulder again.  “Have the NSA send me their satellite surveillance video of the address I gave you for the traffic stop.  Have them send the last half hour.”

                “Fine,” I said.  “The bear is just around the corner.  It’s a sculpture in the front yard of that house back there.”

                “You were afraid of a sculpture of a bear?”               

                I nodded vigorously.  “It’s very lifelike.”

                He snorted, and tapped my license against his forefinger. “Umm hummm.”

                Tap tap tap.

                “What if another neighbor decides to do a sculpture of a bobcat in his front yard?”

                Tap tap tap.

                “And then,” I said, warming to my subject, “what if another neighbor puts in a sculpture of an evil-eyed black-tailed buck?”

                The tapping stopped and his eyes narrowed.  “So?”

                “Well then the next neighbor might do one of a coyote, and the next thing you know, they expect me to have a sculpture also.”

                “So?”

                “Well the only other things I normally see around here are red-tailed hawks eating dead rodents in the road.  How would you like to have a sculpture of a road-kill-raccoon prominently displayed in your front yard?”

                He stared for a few moments before he handed back my license.  He turned and sauntered back to his car, checking the brush along the road as he walked, his ear cocked, as if listening for sounds of wildlife.


The above was a writing prompt:  Write about something that scares you

Pacific Tree Frog

I think this is a Pacific tree frog.  They are small and can change color to match their surroundings.  If you click on the picture to make it bigger, it is easier to see the frog.

Pacific tree frog

Taken at the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge, 2013

Frightened Canada Geese

When I see a flock of Canada Geese rise up in a panic, flapping manically to a different lake in the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge wetlands, I look around for a bald eagle.  They don't care about the Red-tailed Hawks, or the Northern Harriers, but they are terrified of the eagles.  I caught the eagle on camera after it landed in the tree on the other side of the field at the end of the video.  Also, do you hear the other birds joining in the frenzied song?

Sounds like Sandhill Cranes to me.  What do you think?

Thanksgiving Day Parade

Happy Thanksgiving!

Another sunny day in the Northwest.  Here is a Thanksgiving day parade.  If you click on the picture, you will see the male Cinnamon Teals have cinnamon colored eyes.  Females have dark eyes.

Cinnamon Teal males & one Cinnamon Teal female

Cinnamon Teal ducks

Like water off a duck's back

My picture of the day.

Mallard coming up from water

And here he is a few seconds later.

All dry

Tundra Swan Love

This is my first attempt at editing a video on Youtube.  I added three videos together and then I couldn't help making it into a silent film with annotations and notes.  It is a romance between Herbert and Karen, kind of sad, but with a happy ending.  Unfortunately, you need to put it on full screen to see the annotations. 

Tell me what you think of my story video.  

Why the Tundra Swan has a black bill

Tundra swans are beautiful, majestic even.  But why do they have that black bill on the pristine white body?

Tundra Swan

I sat and watched them looking for food in the wetlands.  The water is not deep.  It looks as though he is searching the mud for yummy items. It certainly explained that black bill.

Notice how muddy the head is when it pops up out of the water.  Also, it appears he is stirring up the mud with his feet before lowering his head again.  The Mallards seem to enjoy whatever the swan is churning up.

Northern Flicker Woodpeckers

The two Northern Flickers danced around the top of my dead tree for a long time,  The backyard sounded like a jungle of Flicker calls, from cooing, to calling to pecking,

Dead Tree Wildlife Habitat

A couple of years ago, during a wind storm, I began to worry about a 100 ft Douglas fir tree in my back yard.  Dead trees fall over during wind storms.  I called a tree-climber and told him I wanted to leave at least 20 feet of the tree for wildlife. and I wanted him to drop the rest of the tree so it fell into the forest, also for wildife.  He left about 40 feet standing.  I was sure would still come crashing down on my house, but he assured me it wouldn't reach my roof.  I think he was counting on it breaking at least three feet from the ground..

A Pileated woodpecker found it immediately, pecking away one winter morning.

Now a family of Northern Flickers has purchased one of the bird condos at the top of the tree.

Wile E. Coyote

Coyote at RNWF

So, I've been shooting ducks, geese, hawks, and egrets at the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge this month, but this week I spotted the Road-Runner's friend.  This is a beautiful animal, very healthy-looking.  I like them so much better when they are not in my yard.

By shooting, I do mean with a camera, by the way.

Great Blue Road Block

Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge

About halfway through the refuge there is a duck blind.  It is the only place you can get out of your car, so I took advantage of it to get out and stretch my legs.  After a short time in the blind, shivering and trying to avoid putting my elbows in owl poop, I tip-toed back to my car to continue the drive.  When I checked my mirrors before backing out, this is what I saw.

Backing out of parking space

He ambled along behind my car, completely unconcerned by my back-up lights.  When he cleared the rear-end, I rolled out of the space and realized he was in front of me.  On the road.

And wouldn't let me past.

Sorry the video is a little jumpy.  Trying to drive and film at the same time is harder than driving, texting and changing the radio station.

(If you click on the "full screen" emblem, you'll get the full effect of his beauty.)

Waking Up from a Winter Coma

I love this time of year in the Northwest, when spring's batteries are new and winter is decomposing. After two months of driving to and from work in the dark, it is like waking up after being comatose. And this morning made it all worthwhile.

Each commute brings exciting adventure. Flying past the meadow of sheep, I glance over to see if there are any babies yet. Then on past the horse pasture, where more babies could frolic soon. Then comes the field of cattle, but no babies yet. Then the homeward stretch where deer, bear, raccoons and bobcats scuttle across the road and coyotes roam among the hundred foot Douglas firs. Around each corner could be another breathtaking view of fabulous wildlife.

This morning, coming down out of the hills, just before reaching the flatlands, two birds huddled in a tall tree near a farmhouse set back from the road. As I flew past, the white heads flashed in the dawning light. I slammed on the brakes, hung a U-turn, crept back up the road and pulled into the long, private driveway as far as the closed gates. I bent over, fished my camera up from the floorboards, bit down on my lower lip while I wrestled it out of its case and eased the door open. My arm sneaked out and aimed the camera at the tree and just when I had a great shot, and pushed down on the button, a soft whirring sounded as the camera closed itself up and went dark.

Dang it. They were watching me.

With shaking hands and shallow breaths I snatched up the little case, and yanked out the extra batteries, fought to get the little door to open in a panic. I dumped out the old ones and jammed in the new and glanced up. They were still there. Slowly I eased my arm out again and aimed the camera, careful not to disturb them, and pushed the button down.

Photograph by Melanie Sherman "Bald Eagles"

Twice this week, at lunch time, I've seen bald eagles, but this was my first spotting in the morning and certainly the closest I've ever been. Yesterday afternoon I saw a crane in the field these birds are overlooking. I can barely wait to discover something new tomorrow.

And, yes, I know I should be watching the road.