I trust pit bulls more than I trust people

I said once:

Pit bulls are no more dangerous than any other dog, any other breed, and they don’t deserve this bad reputation from the clueless and witless idiots clamoring to be the next victim who can claim these dogs are dangerous.  What a bunch of busybodies!

Having been around pit bulls for most of my life, I can assure you they are no more or less dangerous than any other breed of dog.  More importantly, I can assure you they can be the biggest babies, the most playful friends, the most loving companions, and the most gentle of animals.  It all depends on how they’re raised, how they’re treated, and what kind of life they’re being given.

All this senseless bickering about them is just that: senseless bickering.  People need to shut up already and leave the poor dogs alone.  If you don’t like them, don’t go around them.  If you have a bad experience, go after the person responsible instead of the dog.  If you think they’re dangerous, you’re a clueless git who needs to stop talking so much and start learning something.

To be quite honest, I trust pit bulls more than I trust people.

And I said it while introducing Snoopy:

Snoopy sitting in the main yard at the family farm (2008_12_06_000433)

Living at the family farm with my parents, she provides loving companionship and more entertainment than the Rockettes could ever achieve, and she does so while sharing home and hearth with several cats, another dog, rabbits, cows, pigs and chickens, plus whatever interlopers nature provides from the heart of East Texas’s Piney Woods.

In all her dealings with the lives around her, she is gentle and caring, the epitome of real strength.

Snoopy sleeping while acting as a pillow for Rascal, the blue heeler, and Teddy, the feline master of the world (2008_12_06_000442)

Even as time marches on and herds her toward the end of her days, Snoopy beguiles us with her charm, her tenderness, her devotion.

Snoopy and Teddy posing for a picture and acting as though they didn’t get caught snuggling together (2008_12_06_000443)

I took these photos earlier this month while visiting the family farm.  It was only today that I felt them appropriate to post.

Why?

This article from Sports Illustrated: What happened to Michael Vick’s dogs …

It starts like this:

The dog approaches the outstretched hand. Her name is Sweet Jasmine, and she is 35 pounds of twitchy curiosity with a coat the color of fried chicken, a pink nose and brown eyes. She had spent a full 20 seconds studying this five-fingered offering before advancing. Now, as she moves forward, her tail points straight down, her butt is hunched toward the ground, her head is bowed, her ears pinned back. She stands at maybe three quarters of her height.

She gets within a foot of the hand and stops. She licks her snout, a sign of nervousness, and looks up at the stranger, seeking assurance. She looks back to the hand, licks her snout again and begins to extend her neck. Her nose is six inches away from the hand, one inch, half an inch. She sniffs once. She sniffs again. At this point almost any other dog in the world would offer up a gentle lick, a sweet hello, an invitation to be scratched or petted. She’s come so far. She’s so close.

But Jasmine pulls away.

And it goes on with the lamentable tale of brutality and torture Michael Vick and his ilk visited upon these pit bulls, and it stirs that together with a heartwarming intercession by the justice system and caring people across the country.

As I have done before, it also speaks to the true nature of these animals.

The results are profound, given what these dogs went through under Vick’s malicious fist, and it touched me deeply that so many know the animals well enough to feel them worthy of a chance at normalcy, a chance at love and warmth in a home of their own.

The article is long but well worth your time.  No matter if you love pit bulls or are one of those who has never been around one yet declares them dangerous to the world at large, I implore you to take the time to read what happened to Michael Vick’s dogs.  It will touch all but the coldest of hearts…  And it might just change a mind or two.

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Photos:

[1] Snoopy sitting in the main yard at the family farm.  She adores sunshine and can spend hours lying in the grass or the sand as she soaks up every bit of a sunny day.

[2] Snoopy sleeping while acting as a pillow for Rascal, the blue heeler, and Teddy, the feline master of the world.

[3] Snoopy and Teddy posing for a picture and acting as though they didn’t get caught snuggling together.

Why birds?

When I began the process of purging my photo collection, essentially sweeping away the past to make room for the future, I started with birds, something you’ll see in this post and others to follow.

But why birds?

A male wood duck (Aix sponsa) molting into eclipse plumage (20080628_08107)

Good question.

I have a lot of bird pictures.  Yet that’s not really the answer to the question.

A complete albino rock dove (a.k.a. common pigeon; Columba livia) walking into the grass (20080628_07967)

I think I began with birds since our avian friends offer a mix of challenge and ease that results in a veritable bounty of images.

Then again, perhaps I complicate matters when a simpler answer would more appropriately address the question.

A snowy egret (Egretta thula) with a small fish in its bill (20080614_06582)

While I could say it’s because I love birds almost as much as I love insects, even that would not provide the full truth of why I started with our avian friends.

A northern mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) perched in a treetop (20080518_05644)

It all boils down to this one fact: it’s winter.

A female brown-headed cowbird (Molothrus ater) in the grass (20080426_04903)

Even here in North Texas, winter means an end to the bounty of arthropods and flora and reptiles and a great deal of nature’s many wonders.  Most trees are left stark and barren along with the vast majority of plants as they wither into their cocoons of hibernation or death; cold-blooded creatures fade with the passing seasons into a frigid slumber or the end of their generation; insects and arachnids shrink away beneath the blanket of the first killing freeze; and ultimately most of the beauty I so enjoy disappears under winter’s cloak.

Yet birds thrive, at least where I live, and their numbers and kinds explode as residents leave for warmer days and nights at the same time migrants arrive trying to escape colder temperatures to the north.

A scissor-tailed flycatcher (Tyrannus forficatus) perched in a tree (20080426_04717)

So expunging historic photos of birds came naturally since, right now, I’m snapping a lot of bird pictures.

It’s no more complicated than that.  Besides, I have yet to go through the arthropods, plants, mammals and reptiles that comprise the remainder of my collection.  Rest assured they will have their time in the spotlight.

— — — — — — — — — —

Photos:

[1] A male wood duck (Aix sponsa) who’s molting into eclipse plumage.  He wanted to know who and what I was, but his curiosity never won the battle it waged with his sense of self-preservation.  Instead, he followed me along the north shore of White Rock Lake, always staying near enough to keep an eye on me whilst simultaneously being distant enough to feel safe.

[2] A complete albino rock dove (a.k.a. common pigeon; Columba livia).  I have seen partial albinism, incomplete albinism and imperfect albinism in rock doves (along with many other creatures), but this was the first time I ever saw complete albinism in this species.  It foraged and flocked with the dule, yet it stood out like a lone redwood tree in a hayfield.

[3] A snowy egret (Egretta thula) with a small fish in its bill.  This beautiful creature spent the morning wading in the shallows of Sunset Bay looking for something to eat.  I watched it miss more meals than I could count.  Just when I felt the poor thing would go hungry, it caught a small fish and enjoyed the fruit of its labor.

[4] A northern mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos).  Perched in the top of a tree under which I stood unaware of its presence, this marvelous parent watched me intently as its offspring fledged a few steps away.  I absentmindedly moved toward the child, and it was then the dutiful guard made its presence known with a sweeping dive at my head coupled with the scream of a marauder moving in for the kill.  I snapped the photo as I moved away.

[5] A female brown-headed cowbird (Molothrus ater).  On a cloudy day and from quite a distance, I felt certain this was nothing more than a sparrow (albeit a large-than-normal sparrow).  Bad lighting can often hide the difference what is and what isn’t.  I walked away from that moment feeling she was something else entirely, something boring, so I was thrilled I took the photo as it brought into focus what I had really seen.

[6] A scissor-tailed flycatcher (Tyrannus forficatus).  I watched this individual and one other as they performed their magical aerial ballet in the light of sunrise.  Catching insects in flight is neat enough on its own; doing so with that flowing, unbelievably long tail creates an altogether different image.

Problems, problems, problems

I realize there’s an issue with photos displaying correctly.  In point of fact, it’s rather random with some showing up and others not showing up, then refreshing the page gives a different result altogether.

I’m working on it.

Sorry ’bout that…

[Update] I believe this issue is now resolved.  Well, hopefully it is…

[Update 2] Then again, maybe not.  Photos are still appearing and disappearing randomly.  I’m pursuing a resolution but am not even sure what the problem is.  Consider it work in progress…

[Update 3] This issue should be resolved now.  Let’s hope it stays that way.

Binging and purging

Next to reading and writing, photography is my next best passion so far as hobbies go.  But from the look of my image collection from which I select items to be shared here, that passion borders on OCD.  I have pictures dating back as far as 2005 that still linger in the “could be post material” pile.

In the interest of full disclosure, I’ve only recently disposed of the 2003 and 2004 collections.  How embarrassing!

I started reviewing this collection over the past several weeks.  In doing so, I found I have a great many photographs that duplicate things already shared.  I mean, how many mallard ducks or great-tailed grackles can one man post?

It’s not that the pics aren’t presentable; it’s just that I’ve moved well beyond the quality through experience and new equipment.

Therefore, I’m beginning the purge session following this binge of hoarding.

Already I’ve deleted several thousand files and still have more than 13,000 to go (that’s more than 65 GB of data).

I figure what I need to do is twofold: Get rid of what constitutes repetitive, lower-quality photos while expediting the presentation of those which warrant attention (especially of anything I’ve not shared before).

So for the next little while I intend to post some themed collections based on this rediscovery and refocusing.  And what I delete will be replaced with new images that rely on better camera equipment and more experience.

By the way, it was this process that resulted in the Birds I never knew series.  I truly am astounded by what I’ve lost in this massive reservoir of digital data.  I’m also truly astonished at the things I’ve kept over the years that I’ve already replaced with much better visuals.

I will still keep snapping photos at every opportunity and sharing here whatever seems worthwhile.  Interspersed with that, however, will be the results of my housekeeping efforts.

In truth, it’s this situation that caused me to begin a photoblog in January 2008.  I thought I could use that medium to clear the archives a bit quicker while focusing it on the images that stood out most, at least to me.  Yet it created more work I didn’t have time for, required more effort than I had to give, and ultimately burdened me with self-imposed obligations I grew to resent.

Migrating those image here (still in progress) while sweeping away things from the past to make way for things still to come hopefully will get me back on track with this whole endeavor of showing you some of what catches my eye.

To the ends of the Earth – Part 2

A man sitting in early morning fog fishing from his boat in the middle of Big Cypress Bayou (20081011_13535)

Along the way, and well prior to the light burning away the fog that lifted slowly from the bayou’s surface, I stopped long enough to appreciate a man fishing from his comfortable perch as the still waters rested quietly in the forest’s embrace.  Here the mist still reigned.

The Big Cypress Bayou disappearing as it bends through the Piney Woods (20081011_13537)

Yet as the morning grew older and the light warmer, the lack of wind could no longer keep the fog from succumbing to its fate.  Only in the distance could its remnants be seen, in retreat and in anger its form fading silently…silently.

The stillness of the bayou remained, though.  Beautiful, silent, unchanging from my view yet a thriving universe of life and death both above and below the mirrored surface.

A bridge stretching over Big Cypress Bayou (20081011_13556)

Before leaving the waters to the sun’s embrace, a haunting prospect struck me while I made my way beneath the bridge: How many times had I traveled across this concrete monster without ever stopping to notice it from a different perspective?

Its strength marched forward on concrete pillars into the final grasps of a waning cloud resting upon the earth.  I paused long enough to appreciate that a utility so constructed might still offer a bit of elegance when viewed from someplace other than usual.

A partly cloudy sky stretching above the family farm in East Texas (20081011_13663)

A full day followed.  Despite that, however, every once in a while I would stop and lose myself in the beauty of it all.  Clouds billowed to life in defiance of what had been done to the fog, and the blue and the sun found themselves doing battle to rule the day.

The outcome of this war made for more stunning vistas from the middle of the Piney Woods.  I couldn’t help but notice the view each time I turned.