Of Tractors & Pterodactyls

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A tractor was out plowing a field and making lots of dust in the cool of the evening. The wind blew the dust over the clearwater ditch and into the bosque. Mr pT, a pterodactyl formerly known as a Great blue Heron, was wading in the clearwater ditch, took flight, and flew through the dust into the bosque.

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Takes Two Pterodactyls To Tango

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I wasn’t expecting Mr. pT. (Great Blue Heron Pterodactyl) at the beginning of our walk. I had my ISO set at 400, which is a little slow against dark trees at sunset.  It’s one thing not to expect the Mr. pT., which I should know better, since I see him almost every night. But I really wasn’t expecting to see Ms pT., so imagine my surprise and excitement when Mr. pT. swooped down and flushed Ms pT. out of the clearwater ditch to do a pterodactyl tango on their way over the bosque to the rio Grande.  Part of the challenge is to see if you can find Mr. pT. against the tangle of bare cottonwood branches in the first six photos; and then see if you can find Mr. pT. and Ms pT. in the 7th photo and the last photo.

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Comics Connoisseur

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Apparently Stretch is becoming a comics connoisseur from Laurie reading Tintin while we waterboard him (subcutaneous fluids for renal failure) every night, because when I went back out to the kitchen last night after he thought we had gone to bed, I found him reading the funnies that Laurie had left on her book holder. He was so engrossed that I was able to sneak a photo before he noticed me and slinked off, looking a little embarrassed.

When the Sandias turned pink at sunset, I decided to try a panorama through the bare cottonwoods. While I was photographing the mountains, a great blue heron landed on a cottonwood between the irrigation and clearwater ditches, affording me the opportunity to get a pretty clear photo of it. When I was going back inside, Puck had all his attention fixed on something. I couldn’t see what it was, but he was so concentrated that I snapped the photo of him. The shutter clicking interrupted his concentration, he glanced at me, then started looking around as if he was trying to find the object of his attention, scolded me with a few choice meows when he seemed not to see it again (I assume he was saying “nice going stupid ¡#%&^@$*! photographer”), then he jumped down off the railing and came inside with me. When I went out a little later, I was able to get a detailed shot of the moon in the clear, cold, winter sky.

 

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