Out and about… again

Saturday was glorious! My first real photo hike in weeks and I took full advantage of the weather and my freedom. I drove out to South Walton County and traipsed around in the woods at Flatwood Trail near Grayton Beach State Park, then ambled down the road to Deer Lake State Park and its practically deserted beach (read:pristine and secluded) for some sun and sand time. I just stood in the surf and let the cool waves wash over my legs. Ahh….

If I had brought my suit, I would’ve parked my arse in the sand and soaked in more of the summer sun. Maybe next weekend?

You can click on any image to see a larger photo, or the series as a slideshow.

(Photos shot with a Nikon D60, using an 18-55mm, 55-200mm, 20mm f/2.8 wide-angle, 50mm f/1.8 prime lens, Nikon CoolPix S205 and/or iPhone4)

For more photos, please visit my Flickr photostream.

Submitted to Unknown Mami’s Sundays in My City

Could be worse

I hoped for something a little more majestic. An eagle or hawk perhaps. If it had to be a shore bird why not a heron or even pelican. Everyone loves pelicans.

Not this. Why did I have to be a seagull this time around. The one bird that is alternately despised as flying vermin or ridiculed as a dimwitted clown.

It’s true… gulls are dumb as rocks and eat almost anything. I can’t subsist on a diet of cold french fries and stale crackers. All the flock wants to do is beg tourists for food and splatter parked cars with guano. They fancy themselves urban artists. That’s just a load of crap.

I’ve got to worry about getting caught in fishing nets or entangled in trash floating in the water. Ralph drowned just yesterday with the plastic rings from a six-pack wrapped around his neck. It was a humiliating death.

And the kids! Damn! I can’t enjoy a little peace and quiet on the beach, digging for mussels, without some maniacal kid chasing after me with a pail. I’m not available for pet adoption, back off brat!

It’s not all bad though.

I do get to fly. Skidding over the ocean at breakneck speeds. I can catch a thermal and ride it for hours. The view from up there is amazing.

The weather’s nice here too, warm pretty much year ‘round. No long flights south. There’s no one trying to shoot me and hang me in their den, or stuff and roast me for a holiday dinner.

I do have all the fresh seafood I want, if fast food isn’t my thing.

It could be worse. I could have come back as a pigeon.

This week’s Studio30 Plus prompt is “frequent flyer,” and/or “engage.”

Backyard garden: flora edition

A combination of intermittent rain, traveling menfolk and unpredictable dogs, kept me close to home again this weekend. When a break in the weather gave me a small window of opportunity, I snuck out and took some pix of the shower drenched flora in my yard. The Girls, Hershey and Asta, followed me around, helping me decide what to photograph. They have a good eye…

You can click on any image to see a larger photo, or the series as a slideshow.

(Photos shot with a Nikon D60, using an 18-55mm, 55-200mm, 20mm f/2.8 wide-angle, 50mm f/1.8 prime lens, Nikon CoolPix S205 and/or iPhone4)

For more photos, please visit my Flickr photostream.

Submitted to Unknown Mami’s Sundays in My City

Battle stations

Angry mosquitoes whizz past my head like a sniper’s bullets. Squadrons strafe exposed and tasty flesh with military precision. A sting! Slap! Bright red droplets of blood… I’ve been hit! Send in reinforcements.

The Trifextra challenge this weekend is: 33 words (exactly) that include among them at least one example of onomatopoeia

*Photo info: This image is of a dragonfly swarm at Big Lagoon State Park near Pensacola. While mosquitoes here on the Gulf Coast may feel like they are as big as dragonflies, they are indeed, much smaller.

Heartburn

I hate seagulls.

They are little more than flying rats. Scavengers, pestilence carriers, all around the most annoying vermin on earth. Hate. Them.

Living near the Gulf, there is also very little I can do to avoid them. They congregate by the hundreds in parking lots to feast on discarded bags of fast food, they vandalize the hood and windshield of my car, and they swarm me on the beach like a bad Hitchcock movie.

To make matters worse, tourists seem enamored of them. It’s as if they are some magical, mythical creature which will bestow three wishes upon them for tossing a few stale Cheez-Its in the air for them to snag.

Ever been overrun by a flock of hungry flying rats, whilst hearing the squeals of delighted children? Brings out the nasty in you, believe me.

There’s an urban legend that says if you feed seagulls Alka-Seltzer tablets, when they dive for fish, filling their gullet with water, the effervescence will bubble up, popping them like a birthday piñata. It’s an ugly mental image, but one I have fantasized about on numerous occasions.

Don’t judge! I prefer Tums.

♦No seagulls were harmed during the making of this post.

*From the Vault of IMSO: originally published July 22, 2010. Edited and updated.

Musical Echoes

This weekend I attended a Native American music festival, taking in the beauty and majesty of the culture…. as well as enjoying great food.

Throughout the day exceptionally talented flutists performed, some bringing a dozen or more different instruments on stage during their session. The songs were moving and achingly beautiful.

Each performer would also offer stories about their music, either telling folktales about the first flutes, or about what the songs were saying. A few of the performers also sang in their native language… it was amazing.

Seems that I can’t find enough superlatives to describe the event, but suffice to say I stayed the whole day.

And the dancers, in full regalia… I was literally on the edge of my chair watching.

One of the dancers explained that their regalia was like a family photo album. With different pieces handed down through generations or given as gifts from friends. He said that the dances also told a story.

The Hoop Dance, performed by two different dancers, using anywhere from one to 24 hoops, showed the connection between every one and every thing. We all play an integral part in this world, he said, and we have to work together to conquer hate.

Wearing a long skirt, adorned with 365 sliver cones, the Jingle Dancer performed a healing dance. Her movements adding a soft chiming sound to the music.

Traditional men and women’s dance were also performed, both somber and exciting to watch.

If you ever have a chance to attend such a festival, go! The dancers and musicians love sharing their talents and culture, and you will be richer for it.

You can click on any image to see a larger photo, or the series as a slideshow.

(Photos shot with a Nikon D60, using an 18-55mm, 55-200mm, 20mm f/2.8 wide-angle, 50mm f/1.8 prime lens, Nikon CoolPix S205 and/or iPhone4)

For more photos, please visit my Flickr photostream.

Submitted to Unknown Mami’s Sundays in My City

Oakland: forgotten cemetery

Before heading out for my weekly photo hike, I put out a question to my online friends, asking them where I should go… beach, woods, cemetery or backroads. The vote, overwhelmingly, was cemetery.

My friend Kath, suggested the venue first, saying a cemetery would be a good place to photograph, in honor of a short story I’m writing with fellow blogger Lance, he of “My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.”

(If you’re interested in the escapades of our heroines, Pauley and Vivian/Millicent, check out “Pauley” in the header nav bar.)

One of my favorite cemeteries to visit is St. Michael’s in Pensacola. It’s located near downtown and is steeped in regional history. After doing a little Google-recon, I found an old graveyard in Panama City to visit – Oakland Cemetery.

Where St. Michael’s is well-maintained and manicured, Oakland is…. sad. So many of the grave stones were toppled and broken. Ledger stones worn smooth over time. Sand and weeds obscuring any legible names or dates.

Many of the stones marked graves of Civil War soldiers, Union infantrymen from as far away as Michigan. One section of the cemetery, spanning almost the entire width of the park, two burial sites deep, was all children. Perhaps the devastating result of an epidemic.

Where St. Michael’s is garden-like, peaceful and serene. Oakland left me sorrowful and restless. Heartbroken that these graves had seemingly been forgotten.

You can click on any image to see a larger photo, or the series as a slideshow.

(Photos shot with a Nikon D60, using an 18-55mm, 55-200mm, 20mm f/2.8 wide-angle, 50mm f/1.8 prime lens, Nikon CoolPix S205 and/or iPhone4)

For more photos, please visit my Flickr photostream.

Submitted to Unknown Mami’s Sundays in My City