The town of Robert Lee, Texas, named after Robert E. Lee, became known to sport fishermen and hunters for the striped bass fishing and prevalent white tailed deer. As the damned (pardon the pun) Colorado River water levels became lower, fishermen did not frequent Robert Lee as often. I think the hunting and fishing led to the development of a fine runway, but the decline in the numbers of visitors has led to . . . the neglect of the runway. We landed on a strip needing some attention.
The Burrowing Owl convalescing at Wild Bird Rescue shows signs of improving strength. After the storms pass through the area, BirdManBob will place the owl in the outside aviary so that he can exercise his injured wing. After a week, BirdManBob will release him.
In the category of Cutest Rump of the Year, I present the Scissortail Flycatcher. They haven't left for Mexico yet, and when they do, I will miss them and will wait for them until their return next spring.
A Hereford and sunflower plants.
Bird, Clay's favorite horse, inspects the back of my truck.
Wild sunflowers grow along miles of fencing in Wichita and Archer counties. The wheat fields have begun to grow, and with them, the grasshoppers, living in the fences, venture to the tender wheat sprouts for their nutrition. Unfortunately, in such vast numbers, grasshoppers have begun to decimate some of the wheat crops. Below I show healthy rows of wheat before grasshoppers had their supper, leaving only empty rows of soil.
About fifteen or eighteen species of Horned Toads exist, but they live in different ecosystems. The lizards shown above live at the reptile rescue center while the rehabbers there attempt to find their proper environments for release, or because they cannot live on their own in the wild. WFRR also nurtures snakes, salamanders, turtles, and other amazing reptiles.
Sometimes I want to JTP, or Just Take Pictures. That's when I carry a lighter load and bring out my Nikon D60, a 50mm 1:1.4 lens, place the settings on Aperture Priority, f5.6, and ISO 400, which under many circumstances can yield adequately measured photographs. As usual, I set out with MyMrMallory not knowing what my JTP attitude would yield. Over the last few days, I snapped images of crop circles in the Texas Panhandle, noting that from 7,500 feet in altitude, the crops looked like art on soil. I had previously explored "farmer's art" and show it on my PBase site, so I felt interested in re-visiting this concept once the thought came to me.
Corn quarter circles. Circles can have one mile in diameter.
Water ditches meandering across the circle.
Cotton fields in the circle.
Wheat circle surrounded by corn.
Harvested circles of corn.
Corn crop circle view from the ground.
Harvesters gather the corn, separating the kernels from the stalks.
The kernels fill up the bin, and from here, the bin fills up the eighteen-wheeler
that will transport the corn to the elevators for storage.
The combine pictured above can tackle eight rows of corn.
Trucks stand in line to fill up with corn.
At the office of the elevators, this device measures
the moisture content of corn, and important factor in its quality.
In the old days, farmers employed a more simplified device to measure the weight of corn. Today, in case of a dispute, farmers may need to search through their storage to find the measuring device, as Bud did (above, to show it to us), for the court of law will not accept measurements made by electronic devices.
And so ended my D60, 50mm, f5.6, ISO 400 experience. Post processing in the digital darkroom involved only minor cropping and enhancing contrast.
Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods. Let us go then, you and I like two etherized patients floating through life, together feeling prufrockian. DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up. One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers. I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain. Throw chinese coins for the I Ching. Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil. Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns. Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya. Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.