We interrupt this regularly scheduled blog for a word from our sponsor—my photography business, Mountain Plover. If you’re looking for a gift that can’t be found in stores, or you would like to decorate your own space, check out some samples below, then click over to my website, Mountain-Plover.com. I take great delight in capturing some of the beauty of God’s creation, and hope that my photography helps others to glorify Him as well.
I usually sell my prints and blank cards in person, either at a speaking engagement or at a one of the craft boutiques so prevalent this time of year. However, I’m also happy to ship greeting cards and matted prints anywhere in the United States. (Overseas? Contact me.) I’m still a one-woman production line, so please order by December 10 to ensure delivery by Christmas, although I’ll do my best if you order after that.
Last time I mentioned that Pete and I were headed out on a road trip. One of the advantages of being away from our normal routine is that we can’t just run on automatic. Every simple act requires a lot of effort. Which road do we take? Where should we stop to eat? Should we go to this state park or that wildlife refuge? There isn’t time to do everything we’d like to do, so which option is best?
I’ve taken enough trips by now to realize that God is the ultimate tour guide. He doesn’t just hand you a map and point you in the right direction, He comes along and leads you step by step.
May is migration month for many birds, and I’ve spent a significant amount of time outside lately, watching them fly north.
It truly is an amazing spectacle. I’ve seen tiny warblers (like the Yellow Warbler at left), five inches long and weighing about the same as a dime, who are working their way north from Central America to the boreal forest where they’ll nest and raise their families in the 24-hour sunshine.
Turkey Vultures soar along, perhaps from Texas or further south. Flocks of swallows return to build mud nests under our bridges and the eaves of our houses. You can see them filling intersections in town, swooping after flying insects.
I thought I’d end the month with this photo I took recently. Talk about attitude!
In case you’re wondering, this is a Hamerkop (also known as a Hammerhead, Anvil Bird, and Umber Bird, among other aliases—wonder what he’s running from). I photographed him at the Denver Zoo, where he was making quite the racket. Apparently the noise-making was somewhat unusual, as they are usually pretty quiet.
These are really strange birds. According to Wikipedia, my favorite source of potentially correct information, “One unusual feature is that up to ten birds join in ‘ceremonies’ in which they run circles around each other, all calling loudly, raising their crests, [and] fluttering their wings.” Reminds me of my high school football team.