POV: 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.