This photo was taken on a road trip –  we were returning home from Montana and had just reached the Bighorn Mountain Range right outside of Sheridan Wyoming. The sun had set behind a peak and cast a giant shadow across the sky.

Twoyaking: The act of paddling with one regular sized person and one smaller person (preferably the larger persons child) in a one person boat.

It is not exactly the easiest thing to do; taking photos from the kayak – made harder still with the addition of a 10 year old to the small boat. The missed shots mean nothing though, when compared to the time we’ve been having paddling about together. If you have the chance to cruise around in a kayak with your kid, I strongly recommend it especially if there’s the possible inclusion of beavers.

This was our second adventure of this type, each has been exceptional. I’m having a hard time thinking of a better way to spend time with my 10 year old daughter. Our trips about in the van are fun but the van is large and often the sights to see along the road fail to be more interesting than the iPhone or the tablet she carries. She will engage for a while and she especially likes to help me steer the car or hop in my lap and drive for a bit. We dont have the challenges with the boat, there simply isn’t room for anything else in there and our close proximity to each other lends itself well to the necessity of whispering and quiet to see the critters.
Last nights adventure found us in the marshy inlet waters of Jenny Gulch. I love it back there and paddle back that way often but this time the water was high enough that we could actually get back into shallow waters that are bursting with new life right now. We saw nearly a dozen blue herons all perched atop various pine trees, a couple beavers, a family of merganser and lots more.

Well, I took my extra day in Montana…

My brother Jake and I did up Yellowstone, proper. Armed with a camera, some home brewed kombucha, wicked awesome, freshly made kale and quinoa salad; we hopped in the Prius hit the road for the largest super volcano in the world. The day was nothing less than epic. We got out of town at about 10:30 am (Only about 30 minutes later than planned) and got back to down at 10:45 pm. It was just over 12 hours of quality brother/sister/grizzly bear/elk/buffalo/geyser/raven/waterfall fun time. Oh and I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the headstands.

We drove to the West Gate of Yellowstone via the beautiful (if a bit foggy) Big Sky Mountains. We spent most of our time talking and enjoying each other’s company. It was a great day all around filled with many individual stories, each worthy of a journal entry of their own. But I think I’ll let them stay secret between Jake and I, for now and leave it up to the photos to do the story telling.

However… I will include one anecdote from the day:
We hadn’t quite left Bozeman yet when we passed a group of ladies riding their horses down Main Street. They each held an American flag. Jake prompted me to get my camera out and then surprised me by pulling over just ahead of the approaching riders. I got out of the car and was humbled to tears as the entire group halted their parade just for me. I was so moved by the action that I failed to check my settings on my camera and under-exposed the shot. I lowered my camera and thanked the ladies with a bow and got back into Jake’s car. I was was shocked to actually find myself wiping tears from my eyes. I managed to capture a few final shots as they rode away to redeem my earlier mistake.

Forgive me; this is going to get a little sentimental. Today we attended my daughter’s 5th grade graduation celebration. She’s closing the chapter on her elementary years and moving onto middle school. With most of life’s milestones, I am able to roll over them without much friction, but this one is hitting a little harder than the “first tooth” and the “no training wheels bike ride”. She’s growing up and she is doing a fine job. She is a wonderfully delightful young lady. As a mother I am constantly second guessing my parenting but I have no choice but to trudge onward and continue doing the best I can. She’s taken huge steps towards the independent direction but there are obvious moments when I am reminded that she is still a kid. (Her recent purchase of $27 worth of candy at the convenience store is a prime example.) Her new-found maturity is deceptively prevalent. And I constantly find myself having to step back to remember that, despite her appearance, she is only 10 (going on 25).

After a delightful ceremony at Wilson Elementary School (where she has spent all of her K-5 years) Anna and I loaded up in the minivan, freshly outfitted with new brakes and a water pump, and hit the road. It has been dark, gloomy and rainy for days and I could see a patch of blue sky way off on the horizon to the north. I figured that potential sunlight was as good of a target as any and we set off.

Now, I’m sure the roads north of town make sense to someone, and perhaps if I were to actually look at a map I could figure it out, but that’s simply not my style. I prefer aimless meandering over destination travel any day. Sometimes however, this gets you into places you don’t really want to be. After a mistaken loop south, I was able to find a road that pointed north that was guarded by a sign that said “gravel road next 20 miles.” Twenty Miles was enough miles for me and signified that road lead to more than a dead end. It was quickly revealed that we were chasing a sunset and Bear Butte.

It’s getting so green and beautiful out there, it was hard not to find a good shot. We drove and stopped and shot and drove a little further and stopped and shot and drove and so on. My favorite moment of the drive was when I spotted a mystery bird on a fence. He was shy and would always fly away each time I approached and land on the fence down the road. I wanted desperately to get a shot of him in flight because the setting sun behind him was lighting up his wings in the most delightful fashion   I couldn’t shoot, drive and chase the bird at the same time so I told Anna to grab the wheel and steer. She was thrilled to take up the task and we laughed each time the bird would land and fly again. Eventually the bird wised up, flew in another direction and we drove on.

We ended up on HYW 34 and circled around Bear Butte right as the sun was sinking below the horizon. I had one last whim to visit the lake at the base of the butte. We pulled into the lake just in time for me to run out and catch some shots of the beautiful tranquility of the still lake and the painted sky. A single fishing boat quietly floated around the lake as the swallows chased their evening snacks across the top of the perfectly glass-like surface of the water.

A blue heron flew across the lake and landed in the reeds on the south side. Anna stayed in the car while I trudged around in the sticky clay mud and as I packed my gear up to return to her, I noticed she had ventured out to join me. I asked her if she had seen the heron and she was sad that she had missed it. I was explaining to her how it had flown just above the water line across the lake when we looked just in time to watch it fly back again one last time this time with a fish in his mouth. It was a beautiful sight to witness and the perfect way to say goodbye to the light of the day as it followed the sun behind the horizon

We swung through Sturgis for one last snack before we drove back home. As the darkness of night claimed the sky I got to thinking about how hard it is to appropriately express the joy I feel when I take these mini trips with Anna. They are simply my favorite thing to do. As I told her last night, I know they seem weird and annoying to her right now, but I hope that, at some point in her future, she looks back at these memories fondly.

When I think back to my childhood, the moments spent with my mom and my grandpa out in nature are the ones I credit for shaping me and making me who I am today.  I learned everything from what they shared with me. I grew up following them wherever they wanted to take me and absorbed their wisdom like a sponge. I am thrilled that it is my turn to give that gift to my child. For me, there is nothing on earth that makes me happier than these times with Anna. I know the clock is ticking and my ability to haul her around is fleeting. Soon, her world will be in her own hands and her own social life will matter much more. But right now, I’ve got her and I am going to selfishly indulge in these moments… not only because I know they are fleeting, but also because I think, in the end, they will matter to her someday too.

The clock was ticking by way too slowly for such a perfect spring Friday afternoon. I got a Facebook message from a dear  friend informing me that he and his family were in town for the weekend and wanted to get together. I told him that I had made plans to join some friends who were planning to camp at Center Lake in Custer State Park. They were eager to join the party and even offered to swoop me and Anna up and give us a ride. It was wonderful to see them again and catch up. Since our last encounter they had welcomed their son (2 and a half) into their lives. He was pure delight and I was so pleased to get to spend the time with them. We all enjoyed a walk on the tiny beach, the kids played in the sand and Anna even decided she was brave enough to go for a little swim, a decision she regretted later when she realized she had to hang out in the rapidly chilling air with wet clothes.

The light faded quickly and I decided to try out some long exposure shots around the campsite. We grilled up some tasty camp food,wished the campers a dry evening and then headed back to town. We followed an impressive thunderstorm into town but never found ourselves in its path.

The next morning, my buddy Nick picked me up, we tossed our kayaks on top of his jeep and hit the road. We drove south to Angostura, not my favorite lake but I’ve had my eye on a paddling spot there for a few years and was anxious for the chance to finally explore it.  The area is a shallow marshy area near Shep’s Canyon on the west side of the lake. As we unloaded our boats I was quick to notice some large big white birds catching some sun on a sandbar to the left. I thought instantly that they might be pelicans and couldn’t wait for Nick to get his gear all packed to verify my hunch… I set out and was delighted to be proven correct.

The American White Pelican to be exact. I believe they were migrating through on their way to breed to the east.

Cornell Lab of Ornithology says:
American White Pelican breeds mainly on isolated islands in freshwater lakes, forages on inland marshes, lakes, or rivers, favoring shallows. Islands used for breeding are often 30 or more miles from foraging areas. During the non-breeding season, American White Pelicans favor shallow coastal bays, inlets, and estuaries. [source]

The big, goofy, awkward birds hung out long enough for me to shoot some nice photos before they eventually determined that I was close enough and floated away. However, I was able to follow and observe them for about a mile or so from a distance. I enjoyed the shallow, marshy, swampy area I had wanted to explore for so long.  It had a creepiness that was kind of fun, lots of old dead fallen dead trees to navigate around that the turtles seemed to find quite conducive to sunbathing. Angostura is a large lake, full of fast boats and murky water, but it was nice to find a quiet place out of reach of the speed boats. There was a ton of wild life that agreed and had decided to call that area home.

After a couple hours of watching and paddling, we decided to pack up the boats, grab a sandwich and head into Custer State Park to Bismark Lake. While we drove north through Wind Cave National Park I jokingly said to Nick, “I would like to see some Elk. Can you make that happen?” Always eager to please, Nick drove us around a corner and I exclaimed “ELK!”. We didn’t have much time and the light wasn’t great so I wasn’t able to get a good photo but I gave it a try and I was grateful for the opportunity to see the majestic animals before continuing onward to our next destination. Surprisingly, I had never been there before and, I have to say, I am amazed it has taken me this long to discover this magnificent place.

As we unpacked our boats I noticed the faint rumbles of thunder from far in the distance and decided it was far enough away to proceed with our plans to paddle. I decided to leave my camera in the car, though, because my battery was about to die and should it happen to rain, I didn’t want to be stuck on the lake with the camera. Want to guess how long it took me to regret that decision?

I rounded a corner and instantly spotted a large nest on the other side of the lake. It was only moments later I was able to identify its inhabitants… Osprey. I continued to paddle around the lake, the whole time having a dialog with myself about why my decision to leave the camera in the car was the right one and how I could always come back for a better shot of the birds… bla bla bla. The whole time my previous osprey fail was ringing clearly through my head.  Then I watched one of the osprey defend the nest from a hovering turkey vulture and I decided I simply couldn’t take it anymore, I turned my boat around and paddled full speed back to the car. I quickly paddled past Nick to fetch his keys. We had a brief conversation and decided there was zero chance of rain. That was enough to convince me that I had made the right choice. I packed the camera in my water proof compartment and set back out across the lake.

I reached the other side and climbed up onto a very excellently placed granite rock and had JUST set up my camera when I noticed that the thunder was rolling at a much more consistent tempo… and then I noticed a drop or two of rain… and then I heard the sound of lots of drops of rain… at that point, I knew it was time to pack up and get to shelter. There was an entire lake between me and the vehicle, and while I may not be smart enough not to get caught out in a rain storm, I am smart enough to know that the last place you want to be in an electrical storm is in a boat on a lake. I looked around quickly, spied a nice rock overhang and hunkered down. I sheltered my camera with my body and tucked my shoes and over-shirt in as far behind me as I could.

I waited out the storm and Facebooked a little, called Nick to let him know I was alright (he had made it safely back to his car). I texted my mom, and laughed at myself a little. The rain and thunder were soon joined by some pea sized hail. Eventually the downpour slowed to a drizzle and I was able to crawl out from my hole and back onto my osprey-watching perch. I sent Nick a text and  said “I’m going to sit up here and photograph these ospreys until my battery dies!”  He replied “I want to catch some fish! I’ll meet you on the lake.”  I was able to get some really nice shots of the raptors coming and going from the nest and even a little video of the male calling to the female after she flew off to dry her wings. The sun began to peek out and warm the rocks and a perfect mist began to rise off the granite and the lake as if it were eager to become clouds again.  I headed back down to my boat, which I had stupidly left open side up. That didn’t stop me from enjoying my float (all be it a bit soggy) back around the lake.

I met up with Nick mid-lake and he was bound and determined to catch a fish so we paddled around the lake for another half an hour or so while he attempted to snag one. He never did hook one though but I did witness one more oddity. I had noticed patches of disturbed water on the perfectly still lake. It seemed like there was something just below the surface that was churning up bubbles. At first, I thought it might be beavers. I had seen several tell-tale signs of their inhabitants around the lake and wanted, so desperately to see one. It seemed every time my back was turned you could hear a loud splash, but each time I turned to catch a glimpse of what the noise maker was it was too late. I pointed out the churning pockets of water to Nick and he slowly floated toward one. We both watched in amazement as dozens of tiny fish jumped from within the disturbance at the same time and splashed back into the water. I wasn’t able to get a good look to identify what kind of  fish they were; there was a good handful of them per school and they were able to disperse pretty quickly and almost disappear when you approached them.

The temperature was dropping quickly and my tollerance of soggy shorts was growing thin. Signs of the next storm started to rumble from the same direction and we decided it was time to head home before it got too late.

We threaded the needle between two dark and ominous storms on the way home.  I was shocked when I looked at my clock and it said it was 7:59. The time had flown but only because it was all so fun. I big thanks to Nick for spending the day with me! It was truly awesome!

I’m not sure it’s possible to have a better weekend. Aside from it being Mother’s Day weekend, and having a delightfully wonderful daughter and pretty much the best mom on the planet, I also was able to sneak in a hike and wrapped up the weekend with something so unexpectedly amazing I sincerely questioned whether or not I was awake or dreaming.

_________________________________ F R I D A Y _________________________________

Anna (my daughter) and I kicked off the weekend with another evening drive out east of town. It was a pretty typical drive, but it did afford us a shower in a decent rain storm and a glimpse of some new-to-this-earth animals who were as fresh as they were cute.

It’s been a challenge to get Anna to engage in these outings. She is not only 10 going on 11 but she has recently bought a new tablet which she is constantly burying her nose in. I’ve started coming up with games and challenges to try to engage her with the real world around her. I think she is starting to enjoy the time and and has even spotted a few critters before I have. She especially likes the fact that I have started bribing her with ice cream in exchange for her company.

One of the best moments on our Friday evening excursion was a stop alongside the road to observe a fairly young colt. Anna requested the chance to get out and pet it, which I granted. The colt was a little shy and darted back behind the comfort of its more mature field-mates, but the other horses welcomed Anna’s touch and it lit me up inside to watch the interaction. We chased a few hawks and caught a lovely sunset before heading back to town for the ice cream.

_________________________________S A T U R D A Y _________________________________

Saturday found me and a pack of my nearest and dearest friends wandering some freshly logged and very obstacle-laden terrain in the Cathedral Spires. They have been clearing the beetle kill but haven’t quite gotten around to cleaning up after themselves yet. We clumsily climbed up a valley between two giant walls of granite until we could not climb any higher (without ropes). As we sat and enjoyed the view I started to notice a rather high quantity of animal scat. I determined that it belonged to Mountain Goats and, considering the volume, we decided we were hanging out in an area where the goats liked to hang out too. We didn’t see any, but I am fairly sure I heard one as it ran off trying its best to hide from our pack of dogs.

Aside from noticing the scat from our resting point I also caught a glimpse of a rock climber across the valley on a neighboring spire. That area is a hot spot for climbers so I really didn’t think much of the fella until I noticed him again on the way back down the mountain. I looked up just in time to see that they weren’t just climbing but that they had run a slack-line between two spires and were JUST about to tight-rope walk across it. I was able to get the camera cued up and did a passing job of recording the event. It was truly a sight to behold.

_________________________________S U N D A Y _________________________________

“goats”

Sunday, of course, was Mother’s Day. The day started with a side journey with just me and my wonderful mom out to an area I have been frequently exploring for photo adventures. There were a few sites out there I wanted to share. I especially wanted to show her a grouping of very large nests my friend Eric and I had spied on a previous adventure. They were perched at the very top of some giant cottonwood trees about a half a mile off the side of the road. Eric started to refer to them as “goats” (Eric has a special sense of humor… I appreciate it very much). Of course, they aren’t really goats, they are nests, but I liked the idea of them being called “goats” so I kept the name.

My mom had a pretty great pair of binoculars in her truck so I was able to make out the faintest shape of a very large bird perched on the top of the nest. “I think those are blue herons!” I exclaimed. My statement was met with hesitant disbelief and since I was unable to make an absolute identification we headed on and I continued to point at things and say “and this is where I took that one picture…” and “when we were here Anna did this… “

The last thing I wanted to show her before we fetched up the rest of the family for our official Mother’s Day outing was a fresh batch of tiny baby sheep Anna and I had happened across a few days earlier. We had a blast watching the little fluff balls play in the field and laughed as one seemed to be as allergic to the air as we are and proceeded to sneeze in a most familiar way.

After the sheep we swooped up my daughter and brother and we set out to aimlessly wander the Black Hills. Our quest consisted mostly of trying to find a place to eat lunch but circumstance after circumstance pushed the event back to about 3:00pm when we finally landed at Legion Lake. We shared a meal of BBQ and I chased around some beautiful swallows with my camera. Anna was able to dip her toes in the water before we loaded back up and hit the king of all Black Hills Roads, Iron Mountain, and headed home. The weather was perfect and I can’t think of a more lovely way to spend a day than celebrating our mom-ness with our kid-people in the Black Hills.

_________________________________ T H E  C H E R R Y  O N  T O P  _________________________________

The family affair was over but my hunger for adventure wasn’t yet satiated. I could tell by the thin clouds and the lazy sun that the sunset was going to be a good one, so I thought I would wonder out one last time in search of one more thing to focus my camera on… I had no idea I was about to discover the thrill of a lifetime.

I had already visited my usual location earlier with mom so I decided to take another direction out of town. I headed North instead of East and was surprised at how quickly I was gifted the final gift of my Mother’s Day.

I crested a hill just outside of town when I noticed a very familiar site. I instantly recognized another patch of “goats” in some trees. Only this time instead of a handful there were dozens and instead of the nests being too far away for me to see they were in the tops of trees right next to a side road. I pulled off without hesitation and lost my breath as I noticed 50 or so very large nests each inhabited by its own blue heron tending to the eggs.  I sat and watched as their partners came and went, returning with fresh twigs and sticks to fortify their homes.

It was without a doubt one of the most breathtaking sites I had ever seen. I had no idea that they nested in colonies like that. Its hard to find the words to describe the feelings I had as I watched them come and go. I shot hundreds of photos and couldn’t bring myself to start the car and leave even after I had filled every gig of memory space I had, but as the sun went down I did find the will-power to turn the key and drive away.

As I drove back to town a single heron flew above me following the same road. I laughed at how, had I not just spent all that time with so many birds, I would have freaked out at the site of that single bird flying above me. I didn’t appreciate the solitary bird any less but I did look at it in a totally different way.

All in all, it was a weekend to remember punctuated with a gift from mother nature herself. There were several occasions when things were so perfect or awe-inspiring that I felt the only explanation was that it was all a dream. But I think thats how we know you’re doing it right, when your reality feels as good as your wildest dreams. I am a truly lucky girl. I have the best mom, best daughter, best family a girl could ask for – and I live in God’s country where miracles happen daily, as long as you’re willing to find them.

I’ve been in the herd of buffalo at the Wild Idea Buffalo Ranch countless times before and it is never anything less than a mind blowing experience. But this weekend I got to experience the herd one on one – just me and them (and a 4 wheeler).

I quickly jotted down notes as Jill told me, over the phone, which gates to go through and what direction to go to get to the buffalo. I didn’t really need to, I was so hungry for the experience, it seemed that her words just seared themselves in my brain.

I took the long way to the ranch from HWY 79 onto the Lower Spring Creek Road. I stopped to snap a shot or two along the way, but mostly I was just enjoying my freedom from the constrictions of time and obligation. I knew all I had to do was get to the ranch by sunset.

I had planned to spend the night there on Friday night and then most of my day on Saturday. I considered my options and figured my time would be best spent with the herd on Friday night as the sun went down. Then, on Saturday I would do my best to get up with the sun and explore along the Cheyenne River.  The first part worked out perfectly, I was able to get to the ranch with plenty of time to hop on the 4-wheeler and head into the prairie in search of the buffalo.

I had to wrangle two gates to get to the herd. When I first pulled up I noticed that they were sort of split into two chunks. The smaller of the two was just in front of me. The slowly sinking, low hanging sun was just touching the tops of the prairie grass in a way that was irresistible to a photographer, so I decided I needed to head out into the larger group first. I found a big ol’ bull standing in front of the rest of the buffalo and decided he was the first to receive my attention. After a little time spent enjoying the light and the beasts, I decided that the smaller herd had much higher photographic potential because they had chosen to position themselves in front of much more attractive scenery. So I cruised over to check them out and noticed that each of the large animals were accompanied by a baby. I learned later that when the mommas give birth, they create these smaller side herds to collectively raise and protect the calves. The momma’s didn’t seem overly excited about me wanting to join them for the sunset show, but they also seemed to put up with me as much as their instincts would allow. I had the most incredible time watching the babies hop about and scamper childishly around, but never far from their mothers. I shot until there was no longer any light to do so. With a very full soul I packed up my gear and headed back to the ranch house.

Now… I had every intention of getting up with the sun and witnessing a Cheyenne River sunrise, but when the time came, my alarm went off and I was simply too comfortable to be bothered. I decided that that was an adventure for another time, rolled over and enjoyed my freedom to do so. I woke up at about 8:30, had a quick breakfast, headed back out to my old friend, the 4-wheeler and headed down to the river. I spent several hours crawling at a snail’s pace along the shore of the great river. I found myself inside a massive grove of old mangled cotton woods that had yet to dress themselves in their summer leaves. I sat quietly for a long time and watched the various birds call and chase  and dance for each other before heading back out and taking another final, long moment river side. I laid out my jacket and did my best to submerse myself in the moment, letting the rest of it all go. I let the sun lay heavy on me and warm my skin, but I was also very aware that as heavy as the sun felt, the lightest breeze was able to blow it off of me like feathers. I thought about how that place out there, on that river, being cared for by those people is a special place. All of the elements involved make it so. The thought constantly ran through my mind of what it would be like to spend all of my time out there like my friends do. How they must know so much more about everything I was seeing for the first time.

I determined, after my rest on the side of the river, that it was time to leave the ranch. I had no more turned off the gravel driveway and back onto Lower Spring Creek Road that I noticed something unusual in a tree. I took out my camera, and as I often do when trying to identify something, I used it like binoculars to simply reveal a closer look at something far away. I was excited and astonished to discover the thing I was looking at was a porcupine. The tree was growing very close to the side of another driveway and I decided the precarious creature was worth the trespass and I drove down to get a better shot. While I was setting up, a woman pulled down the drive after me and stopped. I smiled and walked up to her window and pointed out that I was only there taking pictures of the poky creature. She exclaimed “Oh, I saw that bastard wandering around my stock dam the other day and I tried to shoot him but he got away!” I instantly felt very bad for the little guy. I felt like I had blown his cover and still fear that my discovery may have led to the end of his life. When I left him he was still with us and I choose to believe he was able to scamper down and wonder on before the lady was able to return with her gun. Sadly, we have to accept that some things are beyond our control and, as I stated before, I am not a rancher, I’m certain that if the lady felt my tree friend was a nuisance, she had good reason.

I had several hours left in my day though and didn’t want to head back to “real life” just yet. So, when I reached highway 44, instead of turning left to head back to town I took a right which I knew was going to take me straight to the Badlands. I was excited even though it was a road I have traveled many times before, I was just anxious to see what it was going to serve up today. My decision to turn right was rewarded almost instantly when a coyote ran across the road and stopped on a ridge before bounding off just before I was able to get a good shot. Moments later, a large hawk flew up in front of me dangling a snake from its fiercely gripped talons.  I wasn’t able to get a good shot of either of them but took it as a clear sign that I had made the right choice and that my journey would continue to be rewarding.

The highlight of my side adventure was meeting a lovely couple at the Sage Creek Campground named Randy and Sheri. I was instantly struck by their curious travel rig – they were inhabiting a strange looking ‘camper’ pulled by a Subaru, both covered from top to bottom in vinyl wrapped endorsements and logos. The most prominent of which being Eddie Bauer and Back Packer magazine. I conjured up the courage to ask about their get-up and they were happy to educate me. They said:

“We are on a mobile tour called “Get Out More” sponsored by Backpacker Magazine and several other outfitters advertised on the vehicles.  We specialize in outdoor education about practical skills, techniques used to enjoy outdoor life.”
(learn more about them at www.getoutmoretour.com)

“the money shot”

I couldn’t help but inquire about ways to submit photography to the magazine on a freelance basis and the Randy was happily invited me to email him and he would send me all the information I needed to know about that topic.

We said our farewells only to have one more encounter down the road as I was precariously perched on the side of a drainage ditch attempting to capture a photograph of another great buffalo doing his best “Iconic Buffalo-Perched-on-a-Hill” impression (he was doing a fine job, by the way). My friends in the Subaru stopped and shouted from the road “That’s the money shot right there!” I waved and smiled and said “It’s certainly not a bad one at all” and they drove off. The encounter delighted me on several levels. If there’s some sort of future developments there for me, and Backpacker Magazine feels my photos are worthy of printing, that would be great. But there was a second level of appreciation I had meeting two people living their dreams.

My excursion lead me across the western rim of the badlands that cuts just above the Sage Creek Basin, and back to Wall with a few more buffalo encounters and some fun time with the prairie dogs. The return home on I-90 was fairly uneventful but that’s completely ok. It gave me the chance to reflect on my experience on the plains and about how lucky I am. They weren’t lying when they said it’s all who you know. To my friends at Wild Idea, thank you again soooooooo much and a hundred times more. The gift you gave me this weekend is un-repayable. I am just simply grateful.

I really didn’t wake up this morning thinking I would be out taking pictures of bluebirds… but to be honest, even if wasn’t a snow day, I would have likely found a way to wriggle out of work and go shooting. It was simply breath taking outside.

They called a winter weather warning last night, which I instantly shrugged off. I was certain that because I was so sick of snow, it was just going to… not snow. But apparently my desire for the contrary wasn’t enough and the snow gods decided to give us one more dose of the white stuff. It dumped nearly 9 inches while we slept and when we woke up we were gifted yet another snow day. Now, could we have gotten to work, yes, but you see, today was also my moms birthday and I believe she had a secret desire to spend the day at home too.

I did have to run to work for a bit to take care of some client needs and took that opportunity to grab my camera – I was delighted to pull up to the office to see the squirrel who must have taken the wrong turn at Albuquerque. Instead of heading back up to the house, I took a quick lap down Skyline Drive and found a very photogenic blue bird who was kind enough to make sure I got a shot of every side of him, even his good side.

On the way back down the hill I saw the robins again… I mean, how can you NOT see the robins. THEY ARE EVERYWHERE! I spent a little time with them again and am still baffled by their numbers. I’m hoping to get an understanding of their numbers soon, but for now I’ll just take delight in the anomaly. I did read last night though, that the high niumbers of robins may correspond directly to a low number of ceder wax wings – which would be a very sad reality if it is indeed true. I assume we will know soon enough.

For now, I’m back up at moms, I cant really think of a better way to spend earth day than celebrate the birth of one of the best, most amazing people on the planet; my mom with my brother, my daughter, the pups and seinor snowman.