The last day of the third month!

Now here's a thought for you.  We all know that this is a robin, but how come he does't have a red breast?

In a way he looks sort of Raptor---ish.  Spell check is going to get me there.  Actually he/she is probably an immature who is looking over his/her shoulder.  Just looks kinda funny.  Like when I do my neck exercises to help fight the auther---itis.  That looks funny too!

The 30th day of the 3rd month of the year of Emergence

Sunsets always make people go oooooooooooooh and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.  But generally, like this one at Lake Murray, they don't have a great deal in them other than sky.  The more spectacular the sky, the less the need to put something like a boat or man with a dog in them.  At any rate given all the rain we have had and all the cold my northern neighbors have had, a nice sunset serves to reset the psyche.  I think.  At least it does for me.  For a change, there are no airline contrails going into Atlanta in this one but I did bump up the contrast a bit  and darken it for dramatics. 

OK, rain has started again.  Dog is getting antsy and we wait for the first blast of thunder so she can go nuts.  Honestly, the dog thinks that she can actually catch the thunder.  God, I wish my life was that simple.

The 29th day of the third month of the year of Emergence

The Varina-Enon bridge in Virginia

Every time I travel the "Blue Hair Highway" I cross over this bridge.  Not a good image, but gives you an idea of how they build bridges nowadays.

There is a similar bridge in Delaware and they are pretty neat.  You really do not get the feeling that you are going over water or that you are, in fact, on a bridge of any kind.  This one is on the Rt. 295 by-pass around Richmond, Va. 

BTW, the "Blue Hair Highway" is Rt. 95.  Just check out the people who use that thing the next time you travel.  Most of the drivers are us "Seasoned Citizens".  Driving bigger, older, boat like cars. Generally travelling between the northern states and Canada to or from Florida.  Most of the time all you can see of the drivers are the hands on top of the steering wheel, as if they were hanging on by their finger-tips.  When you get the chance to look us in the eye as you pass, chances are all you can see are Cataract sunglasses.  Now before any of you get your noses out of joint, I am one myself.  I just put a couple telephone books under my seat and am waiting until the time is right to get the cataracts removed.

TWENTY SEVEN MARCH OF THE YEAR OF EMERGENCE

I sit here in a now very quiet house sipping my Star Buck's Pike Place Roast and am motivated to ruminate of things gone by.  I guess the older we get the more of that sort of thing we do.  Sorta stopping long enough to smell the Roast. 

We had a cold front go through the Carolina's last night and this morning.  A thunderstorm sometime in the wee small caused our spaniel, border coley mix to bark and wake us all. Did I mention that she loves to chase thunder storms.  Now the storm is done and all is quiet.   It's a cool 47 degrees, misty, a little foggy, and just a little nasty out there.  I probably should get moving and do something constructive.  But first!

Mornings like this bring back fond memories of the big lake in New Hampshire and rainy, foggy, nasty mornings like this.  We loved them, the fishermen that is.  Even those tied to the shore and not able to find, afford, or maintain a boat on the lake.

This is the small creek in Wolfeboro, NH which generally has ice out before the rest of the lake and which attracts fishermen almost 24/7.  You can see the fog, feel the dampness and looking at the clothing they are wearing and just feel the chill.  The water has a flow and is about 12 feet deep.  Land lock salmon, trout, and later bass are caught along that fence to the left.  In years gone by, this spot was our first stop before going to buy licenses and tackle.

This morning, I am far better with my coffee but do long to revisit that spot and that activity.

Once the day gets up, the lake can take on many and varied personalities of weather conditions.  But foggy is my favorite for fishing and photography alike.  The largest salmon I ever saw was caught in the fog by, unfortunately, someone else.  It was a Sunday morning and I was out alone in "Putt", our 14'  tin boat.  The boat in front of me had two anglers and had stopped to play a fish.  A word about tackle and salmon if I may.  Most fish with fly rods weighing only ounces, gossamer leaders and hand tied flies.  Salmon are tenacious fighters and extroardinary leapers.

Well, there was a bit of thunder and our trusty dog just did her protective thing.  End of the quiet around here.  But...........

The other boat could have been manufactured by the same company as our aluminum craft.  You know the kind, no frills, small outboard, and if you dropped an oar lock it would reverberate for miles on flat water.  The fisherman was standing and an apparent eight foot fly rod was bent in an ark where the tip almost touched the water.  He was a big man about six foot, so the extension of arm and rod were slowly wearing down the fish.  The entire scene was shrouded in fog and the flashing of the jumping fish could only be heard as the man did his predatory thing.

Once caught, he held it by the gills and the tail of the fish almost reached the floor of the boat.  Now this was not an Atlantic salmon (just the land locked brother),  but the fish was huge.  A solemn nod to each other as we passed and a simple "Nice fish" is a traditional greeting.  I slipped on by wondering if I would be next. 

Alas it was not to be.  The fog lifted and the beautiful lake made her appearance.  The salmon went to sleep or wherever it is they go when the fog lifts.  I was successful that morning and caught my two fish limit.  But more than that, I had two additional memories lasting for almost half a century.  That fish and that lake. 

The 26th of March second edition

Check out the "Sweetgrass" image on FAA.

http://fineartamerica.com/featured/sweetgrass-skip-willits.html

The 26th day of the third month of the year of Emergence

A bunch of new listings today on FAA, take a look and see what strikes yer fancy!

http://fineartamerica.com/featured/skyrise-in-blue-chicago-skip-willits.html

I have also started to put some images on Twitpic.com.  You've probably seen them before, but they do have some character.

http://twitpic.com/4d4cry

Later I will be going to the Pametto Sportsman show at the fairgrounds.  Not going fishing this year as you all know, so thought I might live vicariously by going to an outdoor show.  Next week, if I get my taxes finished, I think I will try the river for stripers (Striped Bass) and smallmouth bass.  Haven't been for a while and now that the victory garden is planted, time to do something for me.

Some how, I suspect that I will end up looking like this blue heron.  Standing on one foot in the fog with not fish to show for it.  But it's the journey and not the result that's important.  Or somethin like that.  Remember to double click the image for a clearer full screen image.

 

The 25th day of the third month of the year of Emergence

It's Spring!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know, tell that to some of my friends in Chicago or the Northeast.

  Winter still lingers on there.  But here-------------Ahhhhhhhhhhh!

The Azalea's and snowballs all going strong.

The new extension to the patio is complete and a lot of back breaking work is done.  At least it keeps the dogs from pee-ing right outside the door. 

In the spring, I am told, a young man's fancy turns to romance.  For an old man, not so much.  More like a vegetable garden.

A thousand years ago, in a different life, my vegetable garden measured a full acre is size.  Now for either the uninitiated or the wikipedia challenged, an acre measures a furlong long by a chain wide.  Clear?

A furlong is, I am told, 660 feet and a chain is 66 feet.  Who knew?

Of course the garden was supported by two freezers and a root cellar.  A small tractor, two barns and a farmhouse.  We had so many tomatoes that I had to make tomato juice and can it for over the winter.  What was I thinking? 

I cannot begin to tell you how good the Bloody Marys tasted in February. 

Ever eat a baked potato that you just pulled out of the ground?  No comparison!

I am a little scaled back now as you can see, but it gives me something to bend over for other than something that I accidently dropped.

Now I'll have weeds to cuss at, and not the simple act of bending over!