Mitchowl's Musings

A Good Day For Moving

An Untypical Mitchell Day

A Typical Day in the Mitchell Household

Looking for a rock to hide under........

Sunset Lesson Revisited

Our Glorious Earth

The Power of Believing

A Dog's Tale Ends .....well????

To Uplift

In Memory Of One Darn Great Guy

Lymphoma Wins

Dying With Someone

Thoughts on Hospice

2 Weeks to Live

Dying

In the eye of the beholder......

Live as a Bird

Final Art Project Photos

Learning

Life

Photo Album: January Photos

Photo Album: In Memory

Photo Album: Temple Celebration

Photo Album: Some shots from April

Photo Album: Triathlon

Photo Album: Jenny's Lake Hike

One of the funniest stories I've ever heard about someone I don't know

Sunset Lesson

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 22:08:46 GMT

My family has moved one at a time to blogger from spaces. I followed suit. I hope you visit me in my new space. I would hate to lose contact with any of you.

Visit me Here

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 19:22:09 GMT

Fourth of July.

David's family came to visit, so we packed up and went to the parade. It was hot, in the 90's and we had to sit and wait quite a while for the parade to start. Mike took Nathan for a little walk down the street and came back with a balloon.

David's just chillin', waiting for the parade to start.

Abby had to work today. At least she got to work at the parade. She and a co-worker had to walk along the entire parade route handing out flyers for the custard/pretzel shop where she works.

I looked over and saw this girl laying in the middle of the street! Oh NO!!!! Did the heat get to her? I hope that girl can help her.

But then I noticed the girl was just moving around her, then I noticed she had a piece of sidewalk chalk and was just outlining her body on the street. .......silly girls.

Airplanes kept buzzing the parade route overhead. Then this glider came by.

We all stand for the flag.

This group goes all over the nation performing their stunts. These ladies straddle two horses for the entire route. The one in the middle will turn 50 next year. I went to high school with her. I kind of hate to say that because then everyone can see how far down the physical slope I've gone compared to her.

One thing about us Idahodians is that we just love to gussy up our horse's rear ends.

You can brush the hair into intricate patterns....adorn it with flowers,.........or use some hairspray and glitter that sucker to death.

Please note the sign. Yes, it says Tractor Racing.

Here are some of the contestants.

I'm pretty sure this big boy would be disqualified. Too new. But this is how the farmers "ride in style" now. Air conditioned, stereo systems, and probably a nice little mini-fridge behind the seat.

We saw a lot of very nice old cars.

A lot of candy was thrown out for the kids. This little girl decided to just sit in the street and take stock.

One of the more popular entries was the National Guard. They sprayed down the crowd. People loved it!

In the afternoon we had a picnic in the park. Nathan couldn't wait to finish eating so he could go play.

Later on most of the family went to the baseball game. I stayed home with Abby and Nathan, introduced Nathan to the joys of eating strawberries straight out of the garden and watched Toy Story.

It was a pretty good day.

Tue, 01 Jul 2008 20:48:45 GMT

From Midnight to Midnight…..

12:30-1:00 am - I retire for the night.

3:30-4:00 am – Abby gets up and goes to her 4:00 am job.

4:00-4:30 am – Andy comes home from his night park watering job and goes to bed.

5:00-5:30 am- Joni gets up and leaves by 5:20 to make her hospital shift by 6:00.

6:30-7:00 am – Abby comes home from her early job, let’s the dog into my bedroom and goes back to bed.

8:00-8:30 am – Mike gets up and goes to work

8:30-9:00 am – Oscar licks my face and wakes me up. I get up and get ready for work.

10:00 am – I go to work. Abby gets up for the second time.

11:00 am – Abby goes to her second job.

12:00 noon – Andy gets up.

2:00 pm – Abby gets off work.

3:00 pm – I get off work.

4:00-5:00 pm – Joni comes home from the hospital.

6:00-8:30 pm – Joni goes to her second job, Abby goes to her 3^rd job, and Andy goes to his second job all babysitting soccer games keeping parents, kids and refs in line. I work on the yard, art, writing, pottery, or whatever else. I’m the lazy one in the family.

9:00 – 10:00 pm – Mike comes home from work. Andy leaves for work. Abby goes to bed.

11:00 pm – Mike and Joni go to bed.

………and it starts all over again.

No one could ever accuse the Mitchells with being a lazy bunch. Except, maybe, me.

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 19:49:00 GMT

It’s been a very long time since I posted anything. For a while I just had no desire. I didn’t want to write anything depressing, or negative. A lot of things in my family’s life were falling apart. I just couldn’t bring myself to write about it all. Writing about it would require thinking about it, and I was doing my best to think positive, energetic, life-affirming thoughts.

Then a few interesting things happened and my mom or my daughter would say, “You should blog about that”. It kind of got me thinking that maybe I should.

So, here goes the first story. Actually this is the latest story. This happened to me yesterday.

A student came in to my office and asked me how to access one of the network drives. I told her it was not a problem! “Let’s go into the computer lab and I’ll show you how to do it.” She informed me she had class in a couple of minutes but could come back after it let out. “Great! I’ll see you in an hour.”

You would think I could remember longer than 60 minutes, but apparently not.

I look up from my desk to see a young lady standing there expectantly looking at me. I said, “Hi, can I help you?” She kind of looked at me funny, said yes, and then kept looking at me. Suddenly I realized it was that same girl who needed to get on one of the network drives.

“Okay, let’s go into the computer lab. You log on and then I’ll show you what to do.” While she was logging on I walked a few steps away to check the network address and then walked back.

Pointing to the screen I said, “Okay, click the start button and then go to My Computers”. She looked up at me curiously and said, “will this get me to Google Earth?”

“No.

Now after clicking My Computer you click Tools and Map Network drive.”

She obediently did everything I asked.

“Now in this box you need to type this.”

As she was typing I happened to look up and met the gaze of the girl in the next row. She was looking at me like I had green horns or something.

Suddenly it dawned on me.

I was helping the wrong girl!

Apparently I can’t remember longer than 2 minutes either.

After expressing extreme embarrassment and apologizing to the poor girl who just wanted to get on Google Earth and complete her assignment, and begging her to “please forget the last 3 minutes of my life.” I turned my attention back to the right student.

I know she thinks I’m an idiot, and after that little experience I would have to agree with her.

Fri, 23 May 2008 17:42:01 GMT

I originally posted this on Feb 17, 2007. It's been on my mind for the last couple of weeks, since my Dad passed on. I wanted to repost it.

This week my boss' father died. He was in a nursing home for over a year and was in failing health. I watched my boss make emergency trips, one after another to his father's side because of a medication reaction, or a fall out of a chair, or extremely low oxygen levels in his blood. I've watched a devoted son struggle to maintain his composure as he watched his father decline farther and farther down a spiral to death. He confided in me one day that it was like watching a train wreck in slow motion - you know what's going to happen, yet you're powerless to do anything but watch the wreckage pile up.

I've looked at many sunsets.

~While driving home from work I've gazed at the sky, maybe longer than is safe, and thought, "Wow, look at that!"

~While walking through the house I've glanced out the window. "Quick, where's my camera?" and then made a mad dash out to the front yard to get the best shot.

~While taking out the trash I've stopped for a moment to just gaze at the beauty in the skies above me.

I've even sat outside to watch the sun actually set. At least that's what I thought I was doing; but I had my dog with me - and we played, or I had a friend with me - and we talked.

A couple of days ago I decided to watch the sun set. I could feel a good one coming on. There were some interesting clouds in the western sky. The weather had warmed up in the last few days, from negative 15 to 30 above. It almost felt balmy.

I took my camera with me and walked out onto my driveway. It was the only spot in my yard I could stand without either sinking in the mud or having my shoes fill up with the icy cold slush left from two feet of melting snow.

I just stood there - facing west.

The sky was a somber tone of grey - a few of the clouds just above the western horizon were still rimmed with white. As I quietly stood gazing I began to detect subtle changes. The sky above me shifted in tiny increments darker and darker. I could actually see the shifts.

medium grey - {shift}

midnight blue/medium grey - {shift}

darker still

tiny twinges of orange began to kiss the edges of certain clouds - {shift}

now, on more clouds - {shift}

I was watching for the sunset - the one worthy of a picture. Surely this must be the best it’s going to be - {shutter snap}

a few minutes pass.......

Oh, the colors are richer, the hues more vivid. - {shutter snap}

The sun was just the tiniest sliver still peeking over the horizon. The clouds subtly shift, revealing an interesting blend of sky, clouds, and distant hills in an equally interesting blend of orange, pink and cerulean blue. I take the picture.

I am inspired, renewed and feeling contented. I retreat to my house and get caught up in waiting tasks. I almost forget the sunset.....

and then I pass a window.

Surely this can't be the same sky, the same day, the same setting sun. What was only a short while ago a pretty sky has magically transformed into gorgeous richness and beauty magnified many times. I am awestruck. I am glad that I didn't miss seeing this. I am grateful for the gift in the sky.

And I start to think.

about my boss and his father, and death.

We see the decline. But some of the inner beauty starts to glow. If we stop and stand and just enjoy the moments we have

we will feel inspired, renewed and contented.

And when that day comes when we think they are gone for good

we will go back to the waiting tasks, and maybe

that's when we'll pass a window and see

that they aren't really gone.

The memories we have of them

and the influences they've had on us

will magically transform into gorgeous richness and beauty,

magnified many times over.

And we can be grateful for the gift of life.

Thu, 22 May 2008 23:04:18 GMT

I'd like to share another inspiring video.

Click here for 3 minutes of joy.

How can you watch this and not feel good?

Wed, 21 May 2008 18:55:26 GMT

From Lauren in California - 'My Miracle Heart'

"I received a call from a stranger about my inheritance. That's how I found out about my father's sudden, unexpected death. He was 53. He died from an aortic aneurism from a rare genetic heart disease called Marfan Syndrome. I went to the Chief of Cardiology at Cedars Sinai in Beverly Hills and found out that I had Marfans too.

Marfans is a genetic heart condition for which there is no cure, which often results in death from an aortic aneurism. It often strikes people early in life, usually in their 20s. I was 28.

I was devastated. I had 1st degree heart block and a heart murmur. I would need a pace maker as the heart block progressed to the 2nd degree, but the real concern was my aortic valve and the possibility of a rupture. I wouldn't be able to have children. My entire life to this point, I had been extremely athletic in competitive sports, from volleyball to swim teams to college tennis. I was completely into nutrition and fitness. After the news, I was truly terrified. Where I used to view myself as strong and positive, I now saw myself as weak and fragile, with what I was told was a "ticking time bomb in my chest". While I tried to stay my usual positive self, in the back of my mind I was always aware of the imminent danger and my inescapable mortality.

I lived with this fear, getting checked by my cardiologist twice a year for years, until I saw The Secret. I was due for another visit to the cardiologist right around that time. I was awestruck by the woman who cured herself from cancer and the man who healed himself from the plane crash. I decided right then and there that I was going to heal my heart. I believed it and knew it was possible.

I quickly banished any negative thoughts about my heart and refused to let them enter my mind anymore. Every night as I laid down in my bed, I placed my right hand on my heart and visualized a strong heart, and rehearsed in my mind my heart beating strong, looking and sounding the way a strong healthy heart was supposed to. Every morning when I woke up I said, "Thank you for my strong, healthy heart." I visualized the cardiologist telling me that I was cured. I didn't tell anyone what I was doing for fear of judgment or disbelief. I postponed my cardiologist appointment for about 4 months to give myself enough time to try this.

I went to the cardiologist, with my medical file full of past electrocardiograms and echocardiograms confirming my physical heart problems. Nervous and excited, I tried to calm myself as I got hooked up to the EKG, then got the sonogram.

The cardiologist came in with the test results completely dumbfounded. There was NO sign of a 1st degree heart block. There was NO heart murmur. There was NO expansion in my aorta. He checked and re-checked the old tests and the new one, now showing a perfectly healthy heart with no physical symptoms of Marfans! He had no explanation. I was ecstatic, but honestly, I was not surprised. It was exactly as I had envisioned. I literally RAN out of the cardiologist office across the lot to my car, feeling stronger and more alive than I ever have in my life."

Tue, 20 May 2008 17:51:30 GMT

My daughter's friend's roommate's coworker's roommate...

had her dog die in their apartment. It was a big dog. They didn't know what to do with the giant dead dog in NYC. They didn't have a back yard to bury it in and didn't want to throw it into the dumpster, so she decided to take it to the Humane Society to have them incinerate it or do whatever they do with their dead animals. So she puts the dead dog's body into a big duffel bag and took it down to the Subway. It was a really big dog and so she was struggling carrying it on the stairs. A guy saw her having a hard time and asked if she needed help. And she accepted. So he carries her bag onto the train and they are chatting a little while they are riding. At one point he says, "That bag is really heavy! What is in it?" And she answers, "...uh, some books...a computer..." and at the next stop when the subway doors opened the guy grabbed her duffel bag and ran off. She just let him go.

Sat, 17 May 2008 06:14:26 GMT

Today we buried my Dad.

Correction.

Today, we buried my Dad's body.

Dad is alive and well in a place I can't visit right now. That's okay. I will be with him someday. Until then, I know he is aware of us and everything we are doing.

I found this short video and wanted to post it. I want to watch it everyday.

In some strange way is reminds me of my Dad.

Wed, 14 May 2008 00:35:40 GMT

Thank you to everyone for your well wishes and condolences. Things are fine. We had a good month to say goodbye and prepare ourselves. My brother, Warren, did this for my Dad. Click on the movie.

Fri, 09 May 2008 05:20:47 GMT

Less than a month ago my Dad went in for a CAT scan. Less than a week later the doc's office called and said he'd better come in. That's when we heard the news. The tumors were back. A modified version of chemo was planned for the next Wednesday. That Friday my Dad was back in the hospital. Things were worse than we thought. The decision was made that weekend to stop all treatment and call in Hospice.

It was the right decision. But now time is extremely short. I don't know how much longer, but I hate to see him suffer so. I hope he doesn't suffer too long.

It's hard when a parent dies. You get a feeling like part of your own personal history is dying. And then there is the sense that YOU are next in the line. The next generation down that will inevitably meet the same fate. But as hard as it is to see your parent grow old and die I know that burying a child would be much much worse.

It's a hard thing to be there with your beloved dying father. But, I've discovered, it's even harder to be the one that's NOT there. When I have to work, or for some other reason stay away, I find myself being MORE upset. Maybe because I am losing moments with him that I will never get back. I've found that if I'm there I'm more content.

Thu, 08 May 2008 20:00:53 GMT

When life starts to ebb and fade it is a natural reaction to pull back, withdraw. Death makes us uncomfortable.

In ages past death was a natural part of life. Sitting up with the body in the front parlor was a natural and normal occurrence. With the advent of modern medicine, where house-calls ceased and those in physical decline were whisked away to hospitals, death became a mysterious and scary thing. Something to be avoided, shunned, not spoken of. It is a sad thing, really.

The dying have so much to offer the living.

Spending time with a dying man gives you an enriched depth of knowledge about how to go about living. And it matters not whether that man has lived a glorious full life or if regret lines their every thought. There are rich blessings to be learned from either.

When in the presence of a life well lived you learn. It is inspiring to hear reminiscences of full healthy relationships, of the joy of being with someone or doing joyful activities. It inspires. When you leave his bedside you find yourself driving a little slower, looking around a little more, being connected to the world around you in a more intimate way. Suddenly the petty annoyances that irk don’t loom so large; achy backs, overdue bills, and the car in traffic that cuts you off. You have an inner peace that everything is okay. You are still living, still able to do.

And when you spend time with a dying person who is filled with regret you use their angst as a marker for your own life.

Do I work too many hours?

Do I appreciate the people in my life as they are without trying to constantly change them?

Time for the dying is a precious thing. It is spent wisely. There is no wasted energy spent holding grudges, arguing politics, wanting to buy… Priorities have a way of refining. Impurities are cast aside and a crystallization of character happens. Words of caring and love are freely given. Tears are shed.

Sometimes the deepest lessons are learned sitting in peaceful silence, holding hands or stroking a brow. Human contact is one of man’s greatest needs. With the dying you can embrace it once again without the awkwardness that is present during times of busy health.

And that’s why dying with someone can be a good thing.

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 15:27:13 GMT

"You have a few good weeks left-- what would you like to do with them?" And eventually, once we let go of the long-term future, a whole range of obligations and burdens fall away too, and we get the first glimpse of a period of our lives we had never anticipated, a fourth age, a slow closing down in which we can still hope for manageable joys: a visit from an estranged son, ......some quiet afternoons dozing in a deck chair."

"Don't we need comfort and security from the day we're born? Shouldn't all care take place primarily at home? Shouldn't the family be shown how best to support one another all the time? In fact, what hospice teaches us about caring for the terminally ill applies in every single respect to caring for ourselves, the healthy, who are also terminal, though we lack a prognosis."

Exerpts from the book Signs of Life: A Memoir of Dying and Discovery by Tim Brookes

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 00:49:43 GMT

And what would you do if you were told you had 2 weeks to live?

Take a vacation?

Tell someone you love them?

Do something you've always wanted to do?

Do it NOW! Don't wait. Your last 2 weeks may be spent in a bed, hooked up to tubes and too weak to stand.

The time to live your life is NOW! While you are healthy enough to enjoy it.

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 18:19:17 GMT

What is it about the subject of death that repels us? It is a subject that is oftentimes joked about or avoided altogether. It makes most people nervous.

It is the fear of the unknown. What really happens when we die? Is that all there is? Does the dying person cease to exist at the moment of death? If not, where does he go? What happens to him?

These and other age-old questions have caused many people to ponder on the meaning of life and death.

Opposition in All Things

“For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things” 2 Nephi 2:11

How can you know a bitter taste if you have never had sweet?

How can you know joy if you’ve never had sorrow?

How can there be beginnings without endings? Birth without death?

New Beginnings

Did life begin at conception?

We lived before we were born to this world. We had a life before this life. We had family, friends, interests, and learning. We are a part of an eternal family. This world is patterned after the one we came from. Our Heavenly Father and Mother were, I believe, a little sad to see us leave and go to this “school” we call Earth. Although They can see us and know of our every doing, we are so often out of touch with Them. When my own children get caught up in their own lives I miss the relationship, and have joy in my heart when they contact me. How long do we go in this life without making an effort to contact our loving Father in Heaven? How much joy can we bring to Him with the effort to reconnect? And to ourselves?

There is nothing more joyful than the birth of a new baby. Those of us who welcome the new one to our family are overjoyed. But what of those who had to say goodbye to that sweet spirit on the other side? To them it must seem as a death. Their loved one has moved on.

Death is a Second Birth

When the time comes for us to leave this earth and return to our real home it is as a second birth. Those of us left behind will mourn our loss of companionship. We are sorrowful for ourselves, our loss. But the person who dies will be met with joy and rejoicing. The beloved son or daughter has returned from that school called Earth, and there will be a lot of happy reunions and rejoicing.

As a ship sails away we watch. It gets smaller and smaller on the horizon until, at last, it disappears, and we say “She is gone.” But at that moment on the other shore another will shout, “Here she comes”. That is dying.

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 06:45:20 GMT

In every man's heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty. ~Christopher Morley

Flowers after a long cold winter is a wondrous beautiful thing. I think crocuses were given a special job, to give hope and peace to the winter-weary heart.

But what of the lowly weed? How can something that torments us at every turn be a thing of beauty?

Anything that you can look at with a sense of wonder can be a beautiful thing.

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 03:41:54 GMT

When a fish swims, it swims on and on, and there is no end to the water. When a bird flies, it flies on and on, and there is no end to the sky. There was never a fish that swam out of the water, or a bird that flew out of the sky. When they need a little water or sky, they use just a little; when they need a lot, they use a lot. Thus they use all of it at every moment, and in every place they have perfect freedom." ~ Dogen

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 06:06:09 GMT

As promised I am posting the photos of my final project. You get to see the entire process, even the disaster.

Photo Reference: My neighbor's house. Shhhh, don't tell them I took this.

My sketch of the scene I wanted to paint:

Painted in with Gouache before the inking. All areas left white will be jet black with the ink.

With the layer of ink on. As soon as it's dry I will attempt the wash off.

Beginning the wash off.

My first attempt.....a DISASTER. This is what made me want to give up and quit. The ink wouldn't wash off. You can see where I tried to rub it off with my finger which ruined the paper underneath. There are places around the moon that I really liked, but the trees were awful and there was no sky!

I tried again. And this time the wash off was really fun to watch. I had Abby take photos of the whole thing, but I'll only post a couple on here.

I only had to touch up a few areas with paint over the top and I was done. I'm pretty glad I did it over. It turned out better than I expected.

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 07:14:33 GMT

They say that you only remember a little of what you see, a little more of what you see and hear. The more you become involved in the "lesson" the more you retain.

Some lessons are much more painful than others. You can tell a child not to touch a hot stove. He hears what you are saying, but doesn't really comprehend or appreciate the word "hot". It isn't until he actually feels the heat and pain that he starts to understand.

As I'm working on my art, my mind oftentimes takes a journey. I stop thinking in words and enter a world of feeling. As I'm painting a tree I don't think, "I need a line here and that color's not right. A knothole in the trunk would be good." Instead the paintbrush dips and strokes, grabbing this color here, mixing with that color there. It strokes and dabs, swirls and trails off. The tree begins to grow and develop. It happens because I feel what is right, and am bothered by other things that I change until it feels right.

I read a story about a man who was a pilot. He said his goal was for the wings of the plane to feel like extensions of his outstretched arms, soaring up in the air as natural and free as if he were a gliding bird. That's the way I want to feel when I create. And it's the way I can tell I'm making good art. My best efforts come from within. Whenever I try to copy or imitate another's work I struggle and am frustrated. Invariably the part I copy is the weakest part of my painting. I need to trust myself to manifest what is within me.

My final painting for class has been kind of like touching a hot stove. It's been a painful and frustrating experience.

I had an image in my mind. I wanted to do a spooky house on a hill, craggy trees framing it and a large full moon behind. Our methodology for this one was to paint using thick layers of Gouache paint. Once the paint was completely dry you quickly paint a layer of India ink over the entire piece, covering everything. Once the ink is completely dry you take it to the sink and let a stream of water run over it. The ink washes away leaving behind a very interesting textural feeling to the piece.

I painted for over 10 hours on my haunting scene. It looked pretty good, I thought. Although one of my craggy trees bothered me a little. It just didn't feel right. I'd copied much of it from another piece of art that I admired.

After my paint dried I poured on the India ink, spread it around and waited for it to dry. The second the last of it sealed over I began to run the water over the piece and waited for the magic to happen. Ink washed off the moon quite readily and looked awesome, leaving the silhouette of the house against it. But the rest of the ink refused to budge. With a sinking feeling I realized that all my hard work was permanently encased in coal-black ink.

I was disheartened. I felt tired of painting and art. I hated the thought of trying again and gave up.

Today in class I had my disastrous piece art-side down on my desk. I was not excited about showing it to my professor. And I definitely didn't want to do another one. When he came around to see my work I reluctantly turned it over. He saw my vision. He could tell what I wanted to accomplish and the mistake that I had made. He praised the part that worked. He asked to see my design, which I showed him. He thought it was good. All except for that tree. You can design that better, he said. And I knew it was true. It was the tree I hadn't designed at all. It was the tree that I didn't trust myself enough to do.

I came home, energized and excited about trying again. This time I only painted for 5 hours. It was like the wings of the plane were extensions of my outstretched arms. I painted with my feeling instead of my intellect. It went much faster, and was better. MY tree was a joy to paint.

When the paint dried I poured on the ink and waited nervously for it to dry. And then the scariest part. As the water stream touched the ink it immediately began to peel away. It was a beautiful thing to watch. Each patch of ink that floated off the paint revealed a magical scene underneath. It was exciting to realize that this time it had worked!

And so are the lessons learned. In life as in art. Sometimes you get disheartened and want to quit. You turn your face down and try to hide. It is at that critical juncture that you have a choice. You can either stay in your misery, and never learn the lesson that is yours to learn, or you can turn yourself over and ask for help from the Master. He will see what you were trying to accomplish, he will see the mistakes that you've made. And he'll see the beautiful parts that worked out just fine. He can help you if you listen. And you can feel energized and ready to try again. This time you will succeed because you've felt the touch of the Master's hand.

Tomorrow I will post photos of this project, from sketch to disaster to final piece.

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 21:13:16 GMT

Despite the fact that it snowed a bit this morning the feeling of spring is in the air. I took my camera to the nature park and saw that I wasn't the only one who could feel it.

The ducks who live there are busily finding mates. Unattached females swim round with an entire entourage of males close behind. One hapless girl was almost drowned by 2 boys who wanted her for their own, while a 3rd waited close by. Once the female chooses a male the attachment is complete. They will remain together. The female will sit on her eggs, leaving them each evening for a rendezvous with her mate in the nearby lake or river. She will carefully pluck down from her body and cover her precious eggs, insulating them from the cold until she can return.

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 01:00:11 GMT

January Photos

Tuesday's Gift

Nathan on blessing day

Humiliated Oscar with snowy beard

4 Generations

My view

Duck Feeding

The Closing of Day

Frosty Backyard

Mr. Burns Hanging out

Sun Setting Jan 19

More Photos...

Wed, 21 May 2008 19:04:31 GMT

In Memory

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More Photos...

Sun, 10 Feb 2008 05:07:18 GMT

Temple Celebration

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More Photos...

Mon, 07 Jan 2008 23:22:39 GMT

Some shots from April

More Photos...

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 03:45:35 GMT

Triathlon

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More Photos...

sun setting

A favorite shot. I may use this in a painting one day.

Moonshot and Venus

sun behind the mountain range

April 24 2007

backyard sunset

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 03:45:34 GMT

Jenny's Lake Hike

At the Trailhead

The trail

a view from the hike

a rocky trail

An interesting stump

crowded trail

dragonfly

You had to watch your feet, or fall

The bark was removed by a bear, probably this last winter.

canoers on the lake

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