
Little Baby Owl working on getting his wings last night.



Little Baby Owl working on getting his wings last night.



Our power went out while we were working on our computers this afternoon. Laurie stood up, looked into the sunroom, and said: “There’s the Peacock!” I got up, looked and sure enough, the Peacock was standing on the landing looking through the sunroom door as if he wanted in. After taking a few photos, I opened the door and asked him if he wanted to come inside, but he decided he didn’t want to come inside and ran off. I followed him around the property, talked to him, and got a few photos. Our traipse through the grasses, irrigation ditches, over the shed and through some bamboo, along with our rather one-sided conversation, was interrupted by a gas company tech needing access to our gas meeter that is nestled under a large rosebush.
We both said, “the Peacock” when he was at the sunroom door because the cats woke me up at dawn scrambling over me and jumping off of me to look at the peacock as he walked by the bedroom window. I went out and got a couple of early morning photos of him before he disappeared into the thick underbrush along the south side of the property.
I don’t know who he belongs to. I called a neighbor who called people she knew who had peacocks in the past, but none of them have peacocks these days. Where he came from and how long he will stay is a mystery.


















Woody, the Downy Woodpecker, was making a lot of noise hammering away on a power pole.




Cranes’ Law: Cranes will double in number every few minutes from 2 to 4 to 8 and then there will be a crowd of cranes in the shallows.

If you take a left past Holly’s Tangle-Heart Tree, followed by a few hops, a dozen skips and a great big jump, you will be on the west bank of Rio Grande where, especially at sunset, you will see a magical view of the Sandias with the river flowing by in the foreground. In the shallows of the river, this time of year, you will see Sandhill Cranes. There were two cranes in the shallows when made the final jump as the sun slipped behind the horizon. I photographed cranes circling and landing south of me, and the last of the red blaze on the Sandias. I turned to look at what the two carnes were doing and there were four cranes. A few minutes later more cranes flew in, then more flew in until there was a crowd of cranes in standing in front of me in the shallows of the river.





Six, Seven
Twelve





As many as 28.
Sparing match.








