Future-hope

I went to a junior rodeo on Sunday. These events are always emotional for me because I am filled with admiration for the kids who participate— and Sunday had a ton of 'em.

I thought it would be a small event, due to its location, but the place was humming with kids of all ages on horseback zipping up and down in the parking area and having a great time. When I say "all ages" I mean it. Kids of three and four on ponies and even some on full size horses, with the stirrups hitched up as high as they could go. And in most cases adult supervision nowhere in sight.

The toughness of these kids always impresses me. They don't quit either. That young wrangler above, about eleven, in the steer rasslin' drew a critter that outweighed him by at least 150 pounds and could drag him anywhere it wanted to without breaking a sweat. But the kid hung on, never gave up, and eventually got it down by some unaccountable miracle. The thing is he never quit. "Aw, this is too HARD!" Nope. Even though his time was way, way out of the running he hung in and got it done.

And they were just about all like that, in all the events, boys and girls alike. Had me thinking we'd be better than just fine as a country if all our kids were like this. But they aren't, and there just isn't enough of them to go around. And that's a pity.

Expectations of Reality

"Amazing Grace"

Reality in photography is mostly subjective. When someone views a photograph they make their own reality, as the photograph itself has none.

It is often said that “the camera never lies.” Actually, a camera can do nothing BUT lie. Everything it produces is a lie of one sort or another. The traditional camera’s product is a two-dimensional miniature rendition of full-sized subject matter. Sometimes the rendition is monochrome. If in color, it is only a very limited, distorted imitation of the colors its user saw.

Quite a few of my photographs in the last several years have been pushing the reality envelope. Back in the Olden Times I had experimented with many techniques for altering or enhancing an image: selenium, copper, and gold toning, split toning, masked effects, and many other ways to tweak an otherwise “straight” photograph. Looking back over the history of the craft I was in some pretty good company. But of course that didn’t stop the critics who never seemed to tire of pointing out that I was polluting the so-called purity of photography. I suppose purity, like realism, is in the eyes of the beholder.

When I changed over from film to digital I became aware that the ante on image manipulation had been upped considerably. I was a slow process for me. The one dominant means for photographic manipulation was complex and almost too feature-rich for any one person to ever “master.” Lately, there are alternatives but nothing out there allows the worker to get easy, quick results— no matter what the ads say. The recipes for images that I liked were never off the shelf, never easy or straight-forward. Achieving a successful result involved long experimentation and complex combinations of effects and procedures— and far more failures than successes.

Why bother? Most of the time I don’t. But sometimes I want “something more,” or maybe something less. I want something that cuts to the chase, so to speak. It might be degrees of abstraction, fiddling with color, or messing with light intensity. It could be anything. Or nothing— just a whim. When people ask I sometimes take the humorous way out and tell them that at my age I find reality highly overrated. Well, MAYBE I am being humorous.

There is an anecdote about Picasso being criticized about the distortions of his artwork. He asked the questioner is he was married, to which the man replied that he was. Picasso then asked him if he had a picture of his wife in his wallet. Why, yes, the man responded and produced the picture. “Lovely,” said Picasso, “but how can you have a relationship with such a tiny woman?”

Effects in manipulated images can be difficult to see in small sizes. Clicking on the image will enlarge it.

Halcyon Days

These are indeed the halcyon days on the High Plains. High banks of fluffy clouds, cool breezes, and a rich carpet of prairie wildflowers.

Mornings are a pure delight, cool and bright. The mid-days can be uncomfortably hot from about ten on, but the late afternoons and the pre-dusk evenings are a return of the comfort of the mornings. As dusk gathers I am usually on the front deck, in my camp-style recliner, watching the dogs play and enjoying the cool breeze and the slowly dying light.

Emma, the old girl, enjoys loafing in a patch of cool sand. That she has excavated it directly on the path to the deck doesn't bother me. Visitors can go around. Mags usually stays close and is most often actually up on the deck with me, stretched out on a strip of indoor/outdoor carpet I put down for them. Jack is usually much too busy for relaxation to take hold. After all, there are brush piles to inspect, tall grassy areas to explore, and the "little woods" behind the house to check out for treasures and adventures. Now that all my plants are in large cow-tubs, he is even welcome to patrol the garden and has learned to open the gate on his own.

The only down-side is the prevalence of ferocious thunderstorms in the late afternoon and the possibility of tornadoes. But that goes with the territory.

June on the High Plains and life is good!

Moving day

Friday my neighbor moved the main herd from one 15,000 acre range to another of about the same size. I tagged along just for the fun of it. It was an easy job since the oldsters pretty much knew where they were going. I also think they wanted a crack at the nice, untried grass on that side. It's interesting to watch their millennia-old habits come to the fore. The bulls naturally gravitated to the front, flanks and rear of the herd and stayed there. Some of the newborns had to run for quite a few miles and were tuckered by the end of the drive. Watching 6000+ of these very large critters move so easily across the Plains is a great sight. One I never get tired of. But it's still hard to imagine millions in a single herd.

Morning visitor

Late this morning, as I sat on the deck reading a newspaper, Emma began to bark insistently. At first I thought it might be the UPS man coming down the road. But she kept it up and I could see there was no one on the road. I looked over the deck to where she stood, only about five feet away and right away saw the problem. A large bull snake was in the front dog pen, coiled up against a tree truck and ready to fight my noisy Shorthair.

This is itself was strange, as usually Em will just dive right in, oblivious to bites, and terminate a snake with extreme prejudice. But this time she was standing off and barking. I didn't want her to kill it, so I started down the steps to close the pen gate so she couldn't get at it. Just as I expected she would as soon as she saw me coming she lunged at the visitor to grab him. I had already figured out some time ago that she is far more ruthless with snakes if I am close by. Her protective instinct is flattering but a little too destructive for my taste. This time I managed to call her off and made her keep her distance while I swung the gate closed. She continued to bark but obeyed when I called her inside.

Jack was there the whole time, standing shoulder to shoulder with her but not barking or lunging at the snake. He was very interested in Mr Slithers, but wasn't making any moves toward it. I like this aspect of Jack's personality: He is by no means timid, but rather he is careful and thoughtful about interlopers and "strange things," without the instinct to dive straight in that has made Emma such a consummate murderer of reptiles and assorted other critters. Jack watches, circles, ponders, and as likely as not comes to get me. "Come see what I found!"

When I went back outside, the snake was gone. This is not the first time I have seen him on the place, so I'm hoping that maybe Em is mellowing in her old age.

For those who might not know... A bull snake (Pituophis melanoleucus sayi) is a non-poisonous snake that is a great exterminator of rodents. For that reason alone I like to have them around, but in general am not a snake fan at all.

The Transformation

In just a few short weeks we have gone from High Plains Desert to High Plains Jungle. The rains have brought back the grasses (and weeds!) with a vigorous vegetable vengeance.

In July and August and early September I mowed my out-front 1/3 acre of grass (as I call it) once. So far since the post-winter growth has started I am on my fifth cutting. It can look like the end of the world, but with a few drops of rain it springs to life. Surely one of the great strengths of this environment over the centuries.

Stephen Crane (author of The Red Badge of Courage) has a poem...

 A man said to the universe:
"Sir, I exist!"
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
"A sense of obligation."

So much for me and my over-worked mower.

God-forsaken and desolate

A visitor once remarked to me that "This is the most God-forsaken place I ever saw or heard of!" I told him that God didn't forsake it. He saved it for himself.

And we are now in the season that makes this "desolate, God-forsaken place" a paradise-garden of great beauty. This is the prairie rose (Rosa blanda), just one of many lovely spring flowering plants on the High Plains. We only look God-forsaken and desolate to those who are poor lookers.

Neighbors

Yesterday I had to do a long-distance errand and had to pass through the bison herd, which had just been brought into this particular "pasture." (Somehow when a pasture gets to be 12,000 acres it ought to have some other name!) There were 5-6,000 of them, what with the new calves, so they wouldn't fit into a single frame. Both young and old were enjoying the new growth of grass, thanks to some nice recent rains we have been getting.

Birthday Boy

Today is Jack's birthday. He's three.

I was hesitant about adding a third dog, but considering Emma's age it was the right time to bring him on. Today, I am glad I didn't listen my Sensible Self and went ahead and brought him into the family. He has been a blessing from the first day.

I've never had a dog -- and I've had quite a few -- that matured so quickly or bonded with me so completely. He's one of those so-called Once-in-a-Lifetime dogs that I have been fortunate enough to have had more than one of. His even temperament, sweetness, intelligence, passion for work, and good sense of humor has endeared him to everyone who has come to know him.

So here's to you, buddy. Happy birthday and many, many happy returns!

Sky time

The "transition seasons" on the High Plains are wonderful times for sky-watchers. The sky-ground temperature differentials create some awesome displays that bring real meaning to the old Indian saying "Only earth and sky last forever."

Of course, it can also bring a bit of "sky terror" as unpleasant visitors sometimes drop out of those aerial displays. My friends in Oklahoma have had it real bad. So far where I am (knock on wood) we have been lucky, despite lots of activity and some heart-in-mouth moments.

But the last few days have been about as close to perfect as I could imagine. Temps in the 70s, brilliant sun, little wind. Hard to beat it when it's like that. Makes up for a lot.

Jack likes it

Easy to tell that Jack likes the new grass. It's been a while since he's felt the tickle of the grass on his tummy as he runs full speed through it. Tired, but happy. Life is good!

Grass! We have grass!

Wonderful, green, tall, wind-flowing grass. It's looking good in areas that haven't been grazed. In grazed areas it is much slower coming along. But it is coming along, thanks to the rains we have been having. Unfortunately, along with the rains have come tornadoes and ferocious thunder storms with high winds and large hail. But seeing the plains green again is a real tonic after the Sahara-like summer of 2012.