La La La La Llorona

I presented my paper Quinientos años de lágrimas: The persistence of La Llorona — 16th Century to Present at The 52nd Annual Convention of the Northeast Modern Language Association this afternoon. The convention was scheduled to be held in Philadelphia, PA, but like so many things in our world of covid cooties, the organizers decided it was best to do a virtual conference. That was a wise decision, but it certainly changes the dynamics of a conference. I thought it was fitting to add the above parody I posted last year.

The last warning sliver moon in March.Sasha: “Do you like my La Llorona eyes?”

Marble: “No Sasha! This is how you make La Lorona eyes!”

Neither of you has it right. You need to be crying. Sasha & Marble: “Cats don’t cry! Stupid La Llorona!”

Silver: “La Llorona? Meh!”

Spunk: “No stinking La Llorona will get to me behind these bars!”

Glenda: “What’s that you say?”

“La la la La Llorona?”

Loki: “I’m not impressed!”

“Talk to the paws and claws La Llorona!”

Gwendolyn: “Yeah! Talk to the paws!”

Daddy Owl: “I don’t see no stinking La Llorona! What’s that you say? La Llorona can shapeshift into an owl? Ha ha ho ho hoo who. That’s a Hoot!”

A look Back

What was left of my Yamaha 250cc Enduro after I crashed doing an Evel Knievel type jump in 1973.

While I was looking for some photos I had sneaked in the Sistine Chapel many years ago and did not find, I found the above photo I had been looking for for many years of my motorcycle after I had a spectacular crash doing high jumps. I thought the photo was lost. What happened is that after flying about 15 feet in the air, I landed on the front wheel first. Surprisingly the impact didn’t bend the front wheel, but it did torque the front forks, broke the frame under the gas tank, and bent the downtube on the frame by the engine. If I had collision insurance on it back then it would have been considered a total loss. What was even more surprising is that I was relatively unhurt by the incident. If I remember correctly, the impact split my helmet, which would have been my head if I wasn’t wearing a helmet. My friend, Mike Rhoades, who was watching from another vantage point rode his motorcycle over and said: “That was cool. I want to see you do that again!” There was no replay, as we had to find a few strands of baling wire to twist together so he could tow me home.

One of the first stories Joel Lewis will tell people about us is how I rode up the dunes with Joel on the back of my motorcycle at full throttle (about 70 mph) and how we flew through the air like madmen. The first story Mike would tell people was about my spectacular crash, also. My wild motorcycle riding gave people lasting memories.

After the crash, I took the motorcycle to Mr. Haagenson’s shop and he helped me bend the frame back into shape, line it up, and weld it back together. Then I took the engine apart, rebuilt it, souped it up, painted it black, got a tuned exhaust, a desert tank, new fenders, and made it into a really fast and cool-looking dirtbike for the time. It wasn’t long after that Yamaha introduced motocross bikes with mono shocks that we taller, faster, and much better at high jumping. A few years later I got a Yamaha 500cc Enduro and then graduated to a 750cc street bike.

The same motorcycle after I got the frame straightened out, and rebuilt it with new hardware.

I also found this self-portrait from 1979. I had a lot of muscle in those days.

Nora, the mama owl to the north, still sitting on her eggs, which should be hatching out soon. I did not see Osric, daddy owl to the north.

Moma Owl showing the top of her head and her ear tufts this morning.

Daddy Owl giving me a one-eyed look this evening.

Dusk View

There are fewer cranes as they are starting to head north.

pTerodactyl at dusk.

More hangers-on

Daddy Owl is not perching for long at dusk. He is flying off in search of food for Mama Owl.

The pTerodactyl looking beautifully blue-gray in the twilight.

Are you there in the darkness Mama Owl?

Yes, she is there sitting on her eggs.

¡No Me Gustan Los Whirlybirds!

Whirlybird with a game warden looking for a coyote that attacked a runner.

Daddy Owl: “¡No me gustan los whirlybirds! ¡A mí tampoco me gustan los coyotes!

Flicker: “Whirlybird? Is that what that thing is called?”

Mama Owl: “Stupid coyotes! Stupid whirlybird!”

I thought the doves flew up out of the cottonwood because of the helicopter.

But a second look revealed a Cooper’s Hawk had flown up in the tree where the doves were perched.

“It’s a bird! It’s a plane! IT’S a WHIRLYBIRD! Stupid coyotes!”

Blow up of Mr. Cooper.

Whirlybird hovering before flying south. A crane flying north.

Mr. Cooper flew north to another tree.

Mama Owl: “That’s better now that the whirlybird has flown south!”

Clouds at dawn looking north.

Daddy Owl: “Mucho mejor sin el whirlybird.”

Like a sunset at sunrise looking southwest.

Confirmed

Mama Owl poked her ear tufts up.

I didn’t see Daddy Owl at all yesterday, and I still couldn’t see Mama Owl in the hole in the tree, but tonight, Mama Owl poked her head up just enough for me to see her ear tufts and the top of her head. We should be seeing owlets in about six weeks.

Daddy Owl looking pensive before he flew off to find a meal for Mama Owl.

The Vigil Begins

Daddy owl was by himself this morning.

When I went out this evening, Daddy Owl was still alone. I heard another owl hoot not too far away, but I could not see it. Daddy owl hooted back and then flew to a tree a few hundred feet or so from where he was perched. He answered another hoot and flew over to the hole in the tree where the nest has been. He looked down into the hole hooted, looked at me, looked back into the hole, looked up behind him, and then flew off. I assume Mama Owl has started sitting on her nest in the tree, but if she is in the hole, she is laying low so I couldn’t see her.

He was still by himself this evening answering hoots.

The hole where the nest is looked empty.

After answering hoots, he flew to a tree a little south of where Mama Owl has nested in the past.

He flew over to where Mama Owl nests, looked into the hole, and hooted.

Looked at the paparazzo.

Looked in the hole again.

Checked out what was behind him before he flew off.

Blondy & The Owls

Blondy feeding on an elm tree by the irrigation ditch.

Above is a 48-second video of Blondy feeding on an elm tree. The video is a little shaky because it is handheld at sunset, and Blondy was backlit. I had to push the exposure two stops to get detail in Blondy. The video gives you an idea of how slow and deliberate porcupines are. Blondy is in some ways like a monkey and other ways like a sloth.

Mama Owl

Daddy Owl

Daddy Owl and Mama Owl

Snow Came and Went

Black and white of snow under dawn’s dark light turns to snow black and white under a dark street light.

Cranes fly into darkness in the sun’s waning light.

Clouds break up over the Rio Grande and the snow-covered Sandias.

Mama Owl and Daddy Owl perched in a different tree.

Crows fly in the final light of dusk.

The pTerodactyl reflects in the darkness.