
Love comes in all shapes and sizes ❤️Happy Valentine’s Day!
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Love comes in all shapes and sizes ❤️Happy Valentine’s Day!
If you liked this post, share it on your preferred social network or forward it to a friend.
My branch of thoughts is frail tonight
As one lone-wind-whipped weed.
Little I care if a rain drop laughs
Or cries; I cannot heed
Such trifles now as a twinkling star,
Or catch a night-bird’s tune.
My whole life is you, to-night,
And you, a cool distant moon.
With a few soft words to nurture my heart
And brighter beams following love’s cool shower
Who knows but this frail wind-whipped weed
Might bear you a gorgeous flower!
Blanche Taylor Dickinson (1896 – 1972) was an American writer associated with the Harlem Renaissance arts movement.
To read more poems, click here.
As expected, most of the photos I edited in January were from my trip to Kangaroo Island in November and December.
I photographed this New Holland Honeyeater in one of the most unexpected places: the parking lot of a gas station in Kingscote. As you may have seen in my stories, we had to go to Kingscote to fix a flat tire. The inconvenience of the tire business was quickly overshadowed by the joy of capturing many beautiful bird photos that morning.
A parking lot is one of the most unexpectedly good locations for photographing birds. Birds, accustomed to humans, allow for a closer interaction than in the wild. The same goes, in fact, for any public space, be it a park, a botanical garden, or even a gas station.
I was up at five a.m. and driving to the lake well before sunrise, concealing myself in the bushes and waiting for the sun to rise. I was hoping to photograph cockatoos or kangaroos drinking, but I had no luck that day. However, that golden light makes everything look good, doesn’t it?
For a few minutes, the lake was transformed into a scene of pure magic, bathed in molten gold. Its water mirrored the orange earth and the rising sun, creating a breathtaking, almost otherworldly experience.
And just like that, in a matter of minutes, the golden spectacle was gone, leaving only memories and the promise of another day.
I love this photo of the two kangaroos at sunset. They were far away, and the light was fading fast. Realizing I wouldn’t have enough time to get closer, I made a conscious decision to go for a minimalistic look.
This has become one of my favorite photos from that day, and I’m happy I couldn’t get closer. I love the negative space and the silhouettes of the kangaroos, so small in the vastness of that field.
Take a right here, mate!
One of my friends on Kangaroo Island looks after many rescue animals, including six llamas. The llamas, retired from wool production, enjoy a good life on my friend’s property. They have strong personalities, and watching their shenanigans was such a joy!
This is one of the handsome boys I enjoyed photographing that day.
I don’t think I’ve seen so many koalas in the wild on any previous trip to Australia. I just realized that when my Instagram stories featured at least one koala video a day; I feel truly blessed to have seen so many of the fluffy cuties. I hope this photo brought you as much joy as it did to me, and I hope to continue spreading happiness through my experiences ❤️.
Here is another parking lot photo. I told you they are good spots for getting closer to wildlife! This is the same gas station in Kingscote as in the honeyeater photo.
An Australasian grebe calling for its young on a foggy morning on Kangaroo Island. It was 6:30 am, and the sun was not up yet. On my way to another location, I spotted this grebe family serenely floating on a small pond, shrouded in the waves of fog.
I stopped for a few minutes to take several photos, and this one became one of my absolute favorites from that trip.
You know what they say about too many good things … as much as I loved editing photos from my Australia trip, it became too much after a while. I never thought I’d say that, but there you are!
I was looking for a winter photo when I came across this goldfinch image from a couple of years ago, and it was exactly what I needed. With no snow in sight and the days still dark, a wintery scene with a light edit was just the inspiration I was looking for.
And finally, here is a squirrel photo for your enjoyment!
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A little while spring will claim its own,
In all the land around for mile on mile
Tender grass will hide the rugged stone.
My still heart will sing a little while.
And men will never think this wilderness
Was barren once when grass is over all,
Hearing laughter they may never guess
My heart has known its winter and carried gall.
Arna Bontemps (1902 – 1973) was an American poet and novelist, and a noted member of the Harlem Renaissance.
To read more poems, click here.
Happy International Zebra Day!
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🦓Zebra (Equus quagga)
📸 Canon R5 & Canon RF100-500mm F4.5-7.1 L IS USM
📍Lapalala Wilderness Reserve, South Africa
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O magical the winter night! Illusory this stretch
Of unimaginable grays; so shadowy a sketch
Only the fading inks of spirit artistry can etch.
Here is nor dawn nor eventide nor any light we know,
This ghostly incandescence and unearthly afterglow,
This far-spread conflagration of the fields of snow
That pales the clouds, snow-laden, and blanches all the night,
As though in place of moon and stars some spectral satellite
Cast glamor on the earth and floods of violet light.
The wraith-like landscape glimmers, valley, lake and hill,
Unutterably patient! Intolerably still!
No inclination of a leaf nor songster’s trill.
. . . So could one stand an hour, a day, a century,
Breathless . . . What frozen silence! What immobility!
As of some gray unfinished world in age-long reverie.
O whither have you vanished, treading the leaves of fall,
Bright spirit of the summer, leaving the scene in thrall
To silence? To what springtime, far, far beyond recall?
What far retreat of being, what ebbing of the flood
Of life to bless far landscapes anew with leaf and bud
Has left prospect passionless and charmed this stricken wood?
. . . And yet from depths how distant, that tide of green shall rise,
And that bright spirit come again with April in her eyes,
And winter’s pale prostrations be but phantom memories.
Amos Wilder (1895 – May 1993) was an American poet, minister, and theology professor.
To read more poems, click here.
January 21st is Squirrel Appreciation Day! What better excuse do you need to throw a party, especially if you live in the Northern hemisphere and long for summer and green pastures?
Interesting Facts About Squirrels
How to Celebrate Squirrel Awareness Month
Bonus: NASA engineer designed a squirrel-proof birdfeeder. Or so he thought.
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Cold is the winter day, misty and dark:
The sunless sky with faded gleams is rent:
And patches of thin snow outlying, mark
The landscape with a drear disfigurement.
The trees their mournful branches lift aloft:
The oak with knotty twigs is full of trust,
With bud-thronged bough the cherry in the croft;
The chestnut holds her gluey knops upthrust.
No birds sing, but the starling chaps his bill
And chatters mockingly; the newborn lambs
Within their strawbuilt fold beneath the hill
Answer with plaintive cry their bleating dams.
Their voices melt in welcome dreams of spring,
Green grass and leafy trees and sunny skies:
My fancy decks the woods, the thrushes sing,
Meadows are gay, bees hum and scents arise.
And God the Maker doth my heart grow bold
To praise wintry works not understood,
Who all the worlds and ages doth behold,
Evil and good as one, and all as good.
Robert Bridges (1844 – 1930) was a British poet who was Poet Laureate from 1913 to 1930.
To read more poems, click here.
December was a whirlwind as I traveled to Australia for the second time this year, and more photos from this trip are coming soon! I returned just in time for the festive season and have hardly processed any photos since.
I took this photo at Stokes Bay, one of my favorite spots on Kangaroo Island for bird photography, and processed it quickly as I loved the pose.
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Australian pelican (Pelecanus conspicillatus)
📸 Canon R5M2 & Canon RF100-500mm F4.5-7.1 L IS USM
📍Stokes Bay, Kangaroo Island, South Australia
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Underneath the stars the houses are awake;
Upward comes no sound my silent watch to break.
Night has hid the street, with all its motley sights;
Miles around, afar, shine out the city lights:
Stars that softly glimmer in a lower sky,
Dearer than, the glories unexplored on high;
Home-stars, that, like eyes, are glistening through the dark,
With a human tremor wavers every spark.
Glittering lamps above and twinkling lamps below;
The remote, strange splendor, the familiar glow:
One Eye, looking downward from creation’s dome,
Sees in both, his children’s window-lights of home.
Who have dwellings there, in avenues of space?
Whose clear torches kindle through the vague sky-place?
Are they holding tapers, us, astray, to guide,
spirit-pioneers, who lately left our side?
Never drops an answer from those worlds unknown:
Yet no ray is shining for itself alone.
Hints of heaven gleam upward, through our earthly nights;
Tremulous with pathos are the city lights:—
Tremulous with pathos of a half-told tale:
Through therein hope flickers, burning low and pale,
It shall win completeness perfect as the sun:
Broken rays shall mingle, earth and heaven be one.
Lucy Larcom (1824 – 1893) was an American teacher, poet, and author.
To read more poems, click here.
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