Walking back to the road a few days ago from my visit with a band, I spotted these lovelies making their way down the hill. It might not surprise readers to know that I was alerted to their presence by those marvelous ears, which gave me time to sit down on the ground with the hopes of photographing them as they passed and NOT alarming them.
Before long, the clicking of the camera’s shutter gave away my presence. π
Though they were well aware of me, I think I achieved my goal of not alarming them, and they continued on their peaceful way down the hill.
Today is the last day of the second rifle season. … Two seasons to go.
Because I’m a logophile, I subscribe to a daily email from dictionary.com. Recently, the word of the day was “dapple,” defined as “[dap-uhl] – verb – to mark or become marked with spots.”
More about dapple
Dapple, the verb, was first recorded in 1545β55.
Dapple was probably formed from the adjective dappled, βhaving spots of a different shade from the background.β
Dappled first appeared around 1350β1400 and comes from Middle English.
Dappled probably has Scandinavian roots and is similar to Old Norse depill, meaning βspot.β
EXAMPLES OF DAPPLE
The artist used a hairbrush to dapple paint onto the canvas, creating an abstract masterpiece.
The sunlight dappled the leaves, casting beautiful patterns on the forest floor.
Where, I ask you, is the absolute main and obvious example of *dapple*!? As in dapple grey, as in a coat dappled with good health … as in HORSE-related!?
Interestingly, “dapple” was the word of the day on my mom’s birthday, the day on which Kestrel was featured on the blog. That pic didn’t show enough of Kestrel to show off her fabulous good-health dapples, so I offer you the above pic, which, I suggest, is the very definition of “dapple” in picture form. Most beautifully shown. π
Thank you, Kestrel. You model your dapples gorgeously!
A few chilly mornings ago, as I parked at the old Perkins corrals, I noticed the slightly-past-full moon setting toward the western morning horizon. Before I headed up the hill to turn off one of our water catchments for the winter, I took advantage of the old wooden rails and ramp/chute to take some pix.
A moon-photography lesson that probably many know (but because I mostly shoot moonrise, I haven’t particularly thought about): When the moon rises and is just above the horizon is the best time to photograph it for the details in the surface that aren’t overwhelmed by the moon’s brightness as it rises higher. When the moon SETS and is just above the horizon is not particularly the best time to photograph it because it’s sinking into the Earth’s haze, and those details are obscured.
That said, I do love our lovely celestial neighbor, any time of day or night – or any distance above the horizon.
(The old Perkins corrals are so named for one of the former permittees (there were two then) who ran cattle in Spring Creek Basin back in the not-too-long-ago days. Now, of course, Spring Creek Basin is closed to livestock grazing, but the corrals – on the southwestish edge of the basin – are still used by the permittee who has the allotment south of Spring Creek Basin on BLM land.)
Lady Houdini is showing her age more these days, and she still warily avoids the photographer, but she seems to be doing well with young Flash. I was so happy to catch sight of the pair this gorgeous – and very cold! – autumn day at the end of October.
You might think this is a semi-ho-hum pic of Seneca, but the moon was rising gloriously bright and nearly full to the right (east), and a storm was brewing, and it was nearly dark. So nearly-dark that I almost didn’t scoop my camera out of its pack. But the nearly-dark glowy-light (hard to explain but definitely a *thing*) was so cool that I did.
Seneca was NOT impressed with the technological difficulties of the moment, however, and her ears were at half-mast until she decided that it wasn’t worth giving me the benefit of her attention at all.
The clouds and Mother Nature DID, in fact, brew up some moisture, and between Friday night/early Saturday morning and throughout the day Saturday and overnight to Sunday morning, we got about a quarter of an inch of rain. Dearly needed. And to think, it all started with some nearly-dark, almost-full-moon-rising glowy-light on lovely Seneca and her family on a rise near the road in western Spring Creek Basin! (That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!)
Shortly after sunset, the western sky lit up reflecting the below-horizon sun. Fortunately, Mariah and her band appeared to make the most of the magic. I didn’t do a great job with my exposure or shutter speed, but with great clouds come great sunsets. Part of magic is imagination!
From Spring Creek Basin’s “north hills,” the views are tremendous:
Do you see the mustangs? Admittedly, they’re a long way away. π (Look between the tallest fingers of the dead tree in the foreground.)
I. LOVE. THAT. VIEW!
And in the right light, it’s more painting than reality … except that the very best thing is that it IS reality! I realize that the above three pix are very similar; I couldn’t decide among them to pick just one. π
From nearly the same vantage point, looking in the other direction, off the top:
Wild country. Available to the mustangs, but I’ve never seen any down/back there … of course, it would be a lucky combination to be in the right place at the right time (both/all of us!).
Baby Odin leads the way (following a pair that hangs out with his band) to water at Spring Creek, just about in the middle of Spring Creek Basin, with that fabulous, fantastic, recognizable-anywhere backdrop of eastern boundary behind them.
We haven’t had a spit of rain since the very first couple of days of the month, so it’s pretty dusty out there. Fortunately, most of the ponds still have water, the catchments are good water sources, and there are seeps in the arroyos that still have water. We’ve had another absolutely gorgeous autumn, and now the temps are about to start dropping, with our first really cold nights/mornings coming very soon.