Bosque del Apache Crane? Festival

Yesterday afternoon, my parents and I headed south to the Bosque del Apache. They had never been, and I wanted a chance to see how many cranes were in town for the festival. Well, we had an interesting time watching the smoke from a large controlled burn close to Soccoro; as well as, the thousands of Snow Geese. The cranes stay the night on the northern edge of the bosque. While we were waiting for them to make their nightly fly-in, I had fun watching the surface of the lake reflecting the fire's cloud, smoke, and a wonderful tree in the middle of the water.

We did pay our tariff for the day, and as I was waiting for change, I noticed the sign beside the toll booth window. Geese, both Canadian, and Snow were a very large amount. Sorry, I am a victim of my own age, and can't remember the tally. However, I was really concentrating on 2 statistics: cranes, and the Bald Eagle. Well, the number for the cranes was a mere 4,000+, and 1 for the eagle. I was slightly disappointed in both categories.

First I live in Los Lunas, near 2 huge, and I do mean huge, dairies. The result is there are several fields in the area. Where there's cows, there's corn. Where there's corn, there's cranes. Wa-hoooooo. I must admit there aren't as many cranes in the fields as there were last year, and I don't have a clue as to why. However, can you guess...there are more than 2,000+. Okay, so it's not 4,000+, but they are accessible to me all day long. I don't have to wait for evening for them to fly in because I can't see where they are during the day. I can watch them whenever I want to. Morning, noon, or evening before they fly out for the night. Wonder upon wonder, they're right back again the next day, all day. Of course, for photogs, early morn, and early evening are the best shooting times. Me, I love spending time with them whatever time I feel like it. YEA!

What I don't get to see as often, and thankfully I do sometimes, is see the Snow Geese. This photo does give you some idea of the population at the bosque. What you don't get a sense for is the incredible noise these critters make. At times it's almost deafening.

They are beautiful though aren't they.

I just wanted to share this photo with you. These guys are landing with the sun behind them, and their feathers are translucent in the sun. I am so grateful that God is so good to allow me to capture shots like this one.

Here's a parrot that I caught during our evening meal. LOL.

and, I thought you might enjoy seeing the ducks.

I thought you might enjoy a photo of the geese as they trip,trip,trip across the water before their wings can break them free from gravity.

Cranes, geese, ducks, parrots, and now for one last animal, the iron horse:

What a great day!

Frozen Surfaces

This morning I happened over by the acequia at the end of Edeal Rd. As I stood drinking in the mid-morning light dripping over the giant cottonwoods along the bank, I noticed the surface of the water wasn't drifting along with its usual lazy meander. A second look comfirmed that things were definately at a standstill. There was a thin, very thin, crust of ice formed across the water in certain places. So unusual. And so fasinating. I can't remember when or even if I have ever seen such a sight along the ditchbank. Treat no. 1 for the day.

The Oldest US Park Ranger

Meet Fred Sisneros...well sort of. Fred is a treasure, and he probably didn't know it. Fred's family ended up owning the valley which they helped to resettle in 1869. I would imagine their ownership issued through the Mexican Land Grants. Anyway Fred's father left him the protector of this history when he died. Can you even envision yourself the guardian of such a legacy as grand as this. I for one can't. Not even for a minute. Fred, I don't think blinked an eye. His father charged him, and he lived up to that charge.

In 1981 Abo became a part of the National Park System, and Fred became the country's oldest
Park Ranger. In accordance with his wishes, when he passed away in 1988, he was buried near his beloved mission under a Juniper tree. Salute, Fred.

Abo, Ancient City of 1623

Sunday, I visited the Abo Ruins west of Mountainair, NM. I have lived in this state all my life, and this was my first stop at Abo. I was delightfully surprised not only at its ancient history, but the beauty of the land itself.



Towards the end of my visit, I made one last walk by this ghost of past lives house. These dwellings date from the 1620's. As I stopped to snap a photo, I visualized the late autumn sun warming the old patriarch's bones as he leaned against the the baked bricks of the adobe. Others including children, grandchildren, cousins, nieces, nephews gathered round to listen to the great stories the ancient ones told.

Their lives were simple, yet with more elegance than anything we experience in our hectic endless movement to and fro chasing some dream or chained to some demanding schedule.
The rooms in the adobes weren't large by any standards, nor were they richly appointed. Simple was the watch word of their lives.

Walls 18" thick kept the little dwelling very cool in the summer months when it was too hot to wander about out of doors, as well as, were snug and warm in the cold wintry months when snows covered this shallow hidden valley.

I had no idea these people were adapt at pottery making, a skill I thought emerged much later. They used this skill to cover the stream bed with a thin blanket of slate like material which ensured a catch basin full of water when the days of drought hadn't yet dried up their life giving liquid.
















to the right is a very clear example of their expertise. Resourceful, imaginative, creative are just a few of the words that spring to mind regarding these incredible people. One of my husband's first comments upon viewing these photos was of the precision corners of their architecture.

We think our culture is so advanced, yet without all our technological advances, these people put us to shame with their manual labor, and simple, crude tools.


While I was wandering towards the early church, I noticed a grave off to one side, tended in typical New Mexican fashion with flowers, virgin mary, and angels.

Here Are the Cranes.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/tede/
Click here and it will take you to the cranes.

Day Filled With Joy

What an unexpected treat to find a fence festooned w/ these
incredible icicles looking to all passerby-ers like a wonderland in the desert.The auto sprinklers had run sometime during this monstrous first cold night of the season. This fluke left behind a tree garlanded w/nature's own Christmas twinkle lights along w/the fence's own decoration. Even the grass was carpeted w/a crystal glaze that glistened in the warm fall sun who ordinarily greets me each day at this time of the year.

Wa-hoooo! Great fun! That's what this whole day has been about. Not only was I greeted w/this extraordinary treat of fairyland wonder, I was able to capture some, excuse me, but for me, some wonderful crane shots. I chase the crane everyday, or almost everyday anyway, and yesterday was almost a total disaster from that point of view. It seemed the wind cut right

through any protection I thought I had on with incredible ferocity. My brand new (month-old)

Nikon developed a rash inside the camera body that covered over anything I tried to capture. I couldn't manually focus my zoom lens w/any degree of clarity which produced a batch of fuzzy birds staring at me from my monitor. I couldn't get closer than 25-50 yrds. of my quarry, and alas, I found my very first crane body.

Now I hear the hunters' gun's retorts all the while I am out stalking the cranes with my trusty camera, skulking here and there trying to slip up close enough to get my lens aimed through the bushes, and weeds that line the country lane where I haunt the cranes. So when I run up against the reality of benevolent violence ranged against these beautiful creatures, I tend to get very angry. Now my neighbor, an avid hunter, has related that cranes are indeed a very tasty bird. And I have tried to reconcile myself to the fact that if my bird friends are truly a legitimate game bird which will be eaten, maybe it salves my heart. Well, yesterday that beautiful mound of feathers lying in the field brought me face-to-face with the reality that not all of the victims remain close enough to be retrieved by the intrepid hunters, and end up being so much garbage.

Okay, so I'm a little melancholic over the loss of my bird friends. What can I say, that's just me.

I find the Sandhill cranes one of the most beautiful and elegant birds to grace New Mexico's skies. My year is rapturously spent between the hummers spring and summer, and the cranes fall and winter. Anything else I capture while I chase these passions is a serendipitous experience. And I can say, I do have many of them that closely rival my passions.

But I need to get back to today. Today as I peeked out of my hide, otherwise known as our family car, and I strained to rise high enough to see over the irrigation ditch bank that lays between me and my quarry, there were a set of eyes looking directly back at me. And the astonishing thing is that my crane friend didn't skittle away. He just stood there, as I snapped, snapped, and fiddled, and snapped happily away. Then he was joined by more very serene cranes, and I snapped; snapped; snapped; and well you certainly have the picture by now. LOL

When I sat in front of my monitor this morning upon my return from hunting, I had my very first close-ups of my red-headed friends. Yea!!! Now you get to enjoy my treasures with me.

Happy Day to you and may the Lord bless you.

Fun trying out creative editing for a change...

Now Hereeeeeeees the cranes,
http://www.flickr.com/photos/tede/

Earlier this month I had the opportunity to trapse across some of the beauties that the Monzanos has to offer. What a delightful day, not to warm, nor cold. As Goldie says, it was just right. While it was a joy to abide for a time among the bright colors, just a few miles down the road the sights weren't as pleasant. This past spring, fire ravenged the woodland leaving nothing but the charred remains. Last Oct. I snapped a beautiful spot on the road that serves as my logo for my cards. That location in that condition no longer exists. But hope springs as the first peekings of new growth was evident as we made our way up the blackened mountainside. When we arrived at the top of the mountain, we were rewarded with this saved retreat. Just 2 miles down from this site another blessed area retained its beauty and grandure, Inlow Camp. So many people across the state prayed for the safety of this campground, and I added in the top of the mountain. My heart soared as I scooted my boots through these gorgeous colors of fall once again still in its pristine condition. Thank You Lord for Your Goodness.