Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Wednesday watchdadeerdrinking




If the three deer photos all successfully appear on my site this morning, consider it the "wishing I had a telephoto" series.

Also, consider it "the humans are watching you, deer" story.

I stood helplessly and quietly by, leaning on my car hood yesterday, trying to get the best possible photos of this unaware doe.

She had come to the field near Elmira to get a drink.

And, drink she did, totally oblivious of my presence and unaware that I wished my lens could only get closer.

So, this morning, you'll see blown-up photos, but the story is still a good one.

After snapping a few pictures, I clucked and whistled.   She wasted no time leaving the water hole.

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I was on my way home from what looked to be a total bust in huckleberry picking.  

When I do solo picking, conditions have to be perfect cuz I'm the world's biggest fraidy cat in the woods.

The dogs were with me as I started up Grouse Creek Road and then turned off on the road heading over the mountains to Elmira.

Perfect conditions meant berries needed to be near the road within running reach of the car. 

That road, I can tell you, lacks anything close to perfect, including huckleberry brush.  

Most of the roadside includes grassy fields or shaded areas with no growth under the trees.  

Still, when you take off huckleberrying, you have to rationalize that getting to the back country is reward enough in itself.

The further I drove the more I rationalized.  That pretty green bucket sat empty in the front seat beside me until I found one tiny patch of huckleberry bushes.  I think about 20 berries rolled around in the bottom for the next few miles.

We were on the descent toward Elmira when I spotted a bush with some berries, right beside the road.

Actually, upon closer inspection, several bushes had dusty berries.  I didn't care at this point about the dust.  Just to bring back some berries of any kind was of the utmost.  

I walked across the road . . . . 

. . . . and found the Garden of Many Berries:  bright red, huge thimble berries, two or three vines of dewberries (big berries, some even black) and HUCKLEBERRIES, almost unlike I've ever seen them.

The "clumps of grapes" image comes to mind or maybe the service berry bushes of this unusual year.

Big huckleberries,  too,  and just right ripe. 

The car continued to idle and dogs stayed patiently in the back seat as I picked through the patch, often thinking I might be dreaming.  

Berries just don't come like this, and three different kinds no less.  I wonder if a Johnny Berryseed came through and dropped off some scatterberries.  

Whatever the case, my bucket bottom was covered and my fingers were purple within 15 minutes. 

So, it turned out to be a fun trip along with the great berry find of Aug. 16.

I may take off down another road with the dogs this week or next and see what else is out there.  

For now, the refrigerator has a bowl of sundae topping, waiting for more Meadow Gold French vanilla ice cream. 

~~~~

I discovered this morning that my horses rival me in the "fraidy cat" category.  This marks the day that the hay field is open for grazing.  

Ironic how during the wettest year on record, I've had to abandon the other pastures earlier than ever because they're drying up.

Anyway, I led Lily down the lane and got her pumped up about getting to go to the hay field this morning.  She seemed excited.

I opened the gate and let her out.

Next, came Heather.  As we started down the lane, I spied Lily waiting at the gate.

When it was Lefty's turn, two horses were waiting at the gate.  Apparently, their perfect patch of grass involves having their friends nearby.

So, once all three were in the pasture, I swung the rope and encouraged them off into the waiting grass.

~~~~
Definitely a fall feel in the air this morning.  Someone on Facebook said it was 39 at their house.  

Why did the summer all go so fast this year?

~~~
I'll ponder that question in the bean patch where I don't need dogs to protect me from the scary creatures.

Happy Tuesday---er Wednesday.  Time flies, especially this time of the year. .

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