It has been cold here today—a measly 4˚F when I got up at 5:30 a.m., a balmy 16˚F now in mid-afternoon. Certainly the coldest day we've had so far, though not a cold predicted to linger. According to the forecasts, it will warm up a dozen degrees tomorrow, and make it almost to 50˚F by Monday, remaining in the 40s˚F throughout the rest of the week.
We also got a bit of snow yesterday, plus an additional dusting this morning. Again, less than an inch total, which won't, of course, last beyond tomorrow. We've had three snows so far this winter, none of them deep enough to cover the grass completely. No need yet to break out the salt and shovels.
I've spent most of the day at my desk. There was work to get out, and a backup hard drive that decided to go on the blink yesterday and which I've been fiddling with intermittently since. With computers, their hardware and software, it's always something. Considering how big a part they play in my life—personal and professional—I'm reaching the point where I no longer think of them as mere machines, but sort of android-like members of the family, chip-equipped children who never manage to stay out of trouble for long.
At one point earlier, when I was digging through various files and sub-directories, well out of my depths of technical competency, I looked up and saw a Cooper's hawk sitting on a nearby limb. It's piercing yellow eyes were staring directly my way—the bird probably trying to figure out if that big indistinct blob on the other side of the window was something good to eat. If I were a mouse or chickadee, I'd have gone into cardiac arrest. Instead, I sat still and when the hawk looked the other way, plucked my camera from the desktop and made the above image.
The hawk kept looking around, watching, and I kept watching the hawk. Nothing moved outside, neither bird nor squirrel; everyone knew Doctor Death was in attendance.
I admit that in a moment of fantasy, I thought about tossing the Cooper's my recalcitrant backup drive.
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16 comments:
"I admit that in a moment of fantasy, I thought about tossing the Cooper's my recalcitrant backup drive."
Good idea! I love it when you look out the window and happen to see a surprise . . . can't say that surprise has ever been a hawk for me. I'm still waiting to be surprise by a black bear, but I don't think I get up early enough in the morning for that.
Wow, this post had me laughing, Grizz, especially the last line about throwing your backup drive to Doctor Death. A great photo of the Copper's hawk, but it's the title of this piece that I relate to most. Like you, I take a lot of bird photos, especially photos of waterfowl, and it's always humbling to realize that the bird is no less interested in you than you are in it. And I'm not just talking about protective observation by the bird. I often feel the birds and I are truly communing together, having a conversation in silence. If birds could operate digital cameras, I think they would be snapping photos of old guys like me, just to remember the moments in which they, too, felt a sense of oneness with everything.
Grace…
My ratio of outward window looks seriously outnumbers observed surprises. But it's an excellent, if unpredictable, way to waste oodles of time which might otherwise be spent working, so it's not without its virtues. It's also probably the only reason I've remained harmless, if not close to sane, all these years. I heartily recommend it.
As an incorrigible northwoods fisherman, I've seen plenty of wandering bears during the midday hours. Perhaps your neighborhood bruins have joined some local union which doesn't permit off-hours rambles. But keep looking.
Finally, forgive me for being belated in saying this, but thank you for the mention and link in your recent post. I haven't been making the rounds as I should. But I do try and read your blog regularly, and always enjoy.
Now. You know I love this post. ")
And, it's never too late to make friends with Apple.
Robin…
And I love that you love it.
As to making friends with Apple…surely you don't think I'm a minion of the Dark Side? I have so many things Apple that I'm practically an orchard. In the three decades since I traded in my goose-quill pen for a keyboard and mouse, I've never owned a computer that wasn't a Mac. But as much as it pains me to say this, even Macs can be quirky.
Though in this case, I believe the glitch is probably with the 1-terabyte Lacie external drive which I use for backup.
Maybe the latest Apple update to Time Machine.
Or possibly the fool that set everything up in the first place, doesn't speak computerese, couldn't hold an intelligent conversation with a real Apple expert if his life depended upon it…and is now confessing such lack to you in this comment.
Sheesh! I still can't believe you though I might be One of Them! ;-)
HI GRIZZ - love your humor - perfect :-) We are in the
midst of a massive snow storm - already half a foot on the ground and more coming all day. Still, we have to get my Mom from dialysis - Skipp says for me to just stay put and be safe - I tend to agree - I can keep the wood stove going and stir the stew, you agree?
Love to you
Gail
peace.....
How I wish we had Cooper's Hawks here Grizz, they are such magnificent birds. We did see a sparrow hawk on our travels today.
Weaver…
This one is an immature—fully grown, but not yet feathered out like it will be next year. I see this same bird several times each day—twice already this morning and I've not really been watching. It's a nice big hawk, probably a female.
We have several different species of hawks around, including sparrow hawks (though I don't know whether it's the same bird as yours) but the Cooper's is the most regular visitor.
Gail…
Thank you. And YES! Absolutely I agree. Skipp is a good man whose love and good common sense is behind his excellent advice. Mind him. It isn't a question of giving into your limitations, it's doing what you can do to help the situation. Suppose the car got stuck because of the snow? Skipp would have not only your Mom to deal with, but you. Suppose you took a fall? Anybody can fall on the ice. What you can do is show your love by cooking a wonderful meal and keeping the home fires going. Neither Skipp nor your Mom can do that, right?
Shoot, if I were you, I'd marry the guy! No, wait, you are married. See, you did the right thing there, too. ;-)
HI GRIZZ - oh my, "thank you", you spoke to my heart beautifully and with a smile and a chuckle - I Love it and I love you
It is like a 'white-out' now, barely any visibility at all - and ya, Skipp is quite a guy, a good man for sure and I will keep the home fires aglow and the stew on simmer awaiting his safe return once my Mom is safe at home too.
Love to you
Gail
peace......
Gail…
I knew you'd do the right thing, with or without my advice. And I also understand why you didn't want to stay home, while also knowing you shouldn't go. And that's okay, and to be expected.
But you done good, gal. Now enjoy your snow and meal and family.
George…
My dear friend, I am so very sorry I somehow missed getting my response to your comment up yesterday. I wrote one, honest, but I didn't realize it hadn't published until just now when I glanced at the bottom count, saw it was an uneven number, and thought…hey, that can't be—there ought to be a reply for every comment. I hope you'll forgive me.
You're totally right about being watched by animals. They are indeed curious about us. I don't know how many times in the woods and other wild places when I felt watched, I've looked up, and spotted some critter or bird calmly staring at me. Great gray owls in the north, barred and horned and screech owls around here, once or twice a barn owl, squirrels, raccoons, deer, coyotes, foxes, groundhogs, a bear or two, and around Lake Superior, wolves. Once, in the Snowbird Mountains, a bobcat on a limb not twenty feet away—an unnerving sight, those huge golden eyes. And I couldn't name the smaller birds. When fishing, I've had a number of birds follow me along, flitting from bush to branch as I waded downstream. Not at all frightened—just curious, interested in seeing what I was up to, maybe. They do the same thing around the yard—a Carolina wren will hop from limb to limb as I putter about, and every so often it will rear back and let loose that big, musical call. I absolutely adore them!
I know some would discount it as mere fantasy, but I also firmly believe there are those moments when a connection is made between you and whatever is watching. No question. I appreciate the scientific way of observation, but I also think when applied too strictly you can fall into the trap of seeing birds and animals as "things," objects of study, pre-programmed and lacking emotion and more than rudimentary thought—not fellow creatures. I accord them a far more lenient status…and the oder and more experienced and, I hope, wiser I become, the inclusive leeway I give them. Does the chickadee hanging on the cedar bough staring at me with those black-button eyes connect? You bet it does! I feel it. I just wish I knew what it was thinking.
No problem, Grizz. I did, however, really enjoy your response to my comment. That connection that we both feel with the natural world, including the animal kingdom, is something that is one of the cornerstones of the philosophy that underpins my life.
George…
Thank you for your understand and forgiveness.
Yes, that connection to the natural world is fundamental to my life and philosophy, to the way I see and write and process daily experiences. In many respects—most, actually—it goes back to the way I was taught by my father, a physical/spiritual view that connects me with the land and it creatures, placing me not outside, offstage, as mere observer, but onstage, as equal participant. It is really an ancient viewpoint, one which spans tribes and clans and all corners of the earth—and once I've recognized in every truly competent outdoors person I've met, regardless of their status, education, or profession. At it's most basic, I believe it reflects the difference between facts and truth, or learning and wisdom.
I am so sorry. I bow to you.
Robin…
The really honest answer is that I'm probably not smart enough to have started off using a Windows-based machines. For me it was Mac or typewriter.
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