In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Symmetry.”
Happy Valentine’s Day to all the lovebirds out there.
I was lucky enough to catch these two sweethearts in action when I was out for a walk, iPhone in hand. There’s a modest but elegant symmetry in their embrace and in the circular wake their movement creates.
I felt like a creepy voyeur as I hastily snapped these shots.
There’s a riparian zone at the park, a peaceful oasis where creatures hide and birds nest. It’s become not so serene though. It disturbs me when I often see people there following purposefully behind their unleashed dogs, who pursue wild rabbits across the sand dunes. Hopefully they are just practicing, as I believe this to be a wildlife refuge with no hunting allowed.
In this sweet little area there are also some rather curious man-made formations which I call “primitive rock art” with tongue firmly in cheek.
I’m guessing these “pieces” are the work of youngsters.
They have a funny little aesthetic quality all their own.
We were lucky to have a gloriously clear day, perfect for a walk in the park. We visited the bunnies, hiked about, and caught the end of a farmer’s market. We got a clearance bag of groceries which the guy offered for $10. Quite a steal.
Everyone’s raving about how wonderful it is to have 70 degree weather in February. I don’t agree. It’s not normal and people should think it through. Lake Mead is at dangerously low levels. So is Lake Tahoe for that matter. Reno hasn’t had snow for a long while, and much of the southwest is in extended drought.
Theoretically, If it’s 20 degrees warmer than usual now and the same happens in the summer, we could end up with 135 degree days. Could we survive that?
The bees were out in force today, swarming the blossoms on the trees. The herons and cormorants who winter at the ponds arrived late this year and have already departed, early. Like everyone else I enjoy the beautiful weather but it wreaks havoc on the natural rhythm of nature and I wish it were cold like it’s supposed to be.
I call these concrete walls the Vegas Stonehenge for obvious reasons. I believe it once supported an oil pump or turbine which supplied fuel for the ranch. It seemed like a scary monolith when I was a little kid.
It’s a gloomy day but still nice for a walk. The ponds are a wildlife refuge and plenty of waterfowl winter here. I saw this pretty little cormorant and thought she made a good subject. Many of the cormorant and night herons like to hang out in the trees. If you look closely you’ll see ten or more black bodies perched on the leafless branches in the background.
When the skies are clear and the air is clean I try to take full advantage. Days like this seem few and far between. The white ridges are sand dunes where the kids ride their dirt bikes. I imagine it was a popular spot once, but now I’m not so sure. It’s not in the middle of nowhere anymore.
If only I had a good camera. My trusty iPhone isn’t quite up to capturing wildlife in action. Sigh. But I try and do the best with what I’ve got, especially when I’m lucky enough to stumble across a scene such as this huge red-tailed hawk munching on a coot he caught. I was surprised he let me get as close as I did, enabling me to snap a few shots before he dragged his dinner far enough away to chow down in peace.
Peacocks are prevalent at the park and when I was small their plaintive cries haunted me. They seemed to be calling for help across a vast sea of trees. One night I had a fitful slumber during a sleepover there with my Girl Scout troop. Zipped up tight in my bag I dared not close my eyes as I was sure the ethereal creatures were beckoning to me.
Today when I find myself in the park at dusk those cries haunt me still, a melancholy cacophony echoing from the shadows in the trees.