Category Archives: Wandering

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End of Day One

The end of day one of the new year had the potential for a beautiful sunset.

Plenty of blue sky. Enough clouds around to add color to the setting sun.

Headed out to an area I like for sunsets and decided to try a different section. There are narrow bands of pine trees divided by prairie and corn fields. I hiked the quarter mile out to the end of one of the tree lines.

With air temps at 29 and winds blowing at 15-20 mph (feels like 18 according to the Weather Channel), I thought the trees would give me a break from the wind.

They didn’t.

I had a good hour and a half to kill and took my time on the hike. Even taking my time I guess I cover a quarter mile relatively quickly.

I stood around watching the sky and the changes from the setting sun. On the horizon where the sun was heading was a low bank of thick clouds while just 50 miles to the north there was plenty of blue sky. The wind was blowing directly out of the west, into my face and the wind had no warmth.

The sun disappeared behind the low clouds. In the distance a bank of trees kept the horizon covered. I couldn’t tell if there was a break in the clouds on the horizon. The sunset was nice, but not what I expected.

After standing around for nearly an hour I was freezing my ass off. No matter how much you layer up for this kind of weather, it really only helps if you’re moving around, even a little. Since I couldn’t feel my fingertips any more and my toes were numb from standing still, I left.

You’d think I’d learn by now.

Fifteen minutes later I look in the rear view mirror while heading east and the horizon is lit up like it’s on fire. Taunted me all the way home. There was no where to stop on the roads and no good vistas anyway.

I had been standing in the perfect spot not 15 minutes earlier.

Did this same thing three times last year.

I must be a slow learner.

Note to self, stay till dark.

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I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas

Okay, I’m dreaming of a white Christmas is pretty much a line of bullshit.

I can’t recall ever wanting or dreaming about a white Christmas.

Not even as a kid.

I can’t recall ever dreaming of snow.

If snow were ever in a dream, that would be a nightmare.

I guess a nightmare is just a dream with an end result you didn’t like, but now we’re getting into one of those sophomore Liberal Arts semantics games that I always found painful.

Well, anyway…

I like sunshine and rainbows.

Okay, no rainbows. I don’t have any rainbows, or at least none that I could find.

How about cattle. I got cattle.

I like sunshine and cattle.
Sunsets and rivers or sunsets on rivers.
Beautiful spacious skies.
Amber waves of grain.
Corn, I got lots of corn. I like corn. Corn fields at least.

I dream in Technicolor.
Bright colors.
Over saturated colors.
Colors that make your eyes hurt, but they’re so damn beautiful you just have to keep looking at them.

Wizard of OZ color.
Without the little people.
Or witches.
Or evil flying monkeys.

That gets back to that whole nightmare thing again which puts it right up there with snow.

Well, anyway…

I would be perfectly content to never see a white Christmas ever again, except in pictures.

Same goes for snow in general.

Long term plans are being made to accomplish this.

Till then, I’ll at least live in and relive my amazing technicolor dream world.

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The Day Before the Gray Day

The day before the gray day, there was a glimmer of hope for a beautiful sunset.

Blue sky and lots of sunshine.

There was a slight haze creeping upward, thawing ground, some humidity.

Problem was, no clouds.

Sunsets need clouds. It’s what gives them color, shape and form. There was a hint of clouds on the horizon, but possibly just enough to make the sunset, nice. That was a nice sunset.

Without clouds it’s just a bright yellow / orange object in a sea of blue. Nice, but not what I want.

I killed some time, I always do. Waiting for the right time, the right light and that right moment when everything comes together.

As the sun lowered, the haze rose, the clouds crept eastward.

A short window of opportunity before the light changed.

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The haze was rising, on the horizon, thin clouds. Sunset color killers both.

The haze was rising, on the horizon, thin clouds. Sunset color killers both.

By now I knew the sunset was going to be, nice. I poked around, moved around, uninspiring at best.

While waiting, I kill some time by wandering the archery range. I always find at least one. Most of the time, you don't see this much of one sticking out of the ground.

While waiting, I kill some time by wandering the archery range. I always find at least one. Most of the time, you don’t see this much of one sticking out of the ground.

Little Dickie likes his selfies.

Little Dickie likes his selfies.

The moment came, I took a shot, then another.

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Then I left.

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Another Gray Day

As I walked out the door into still another gray day, I was beginning to wonder if I was imagining things.

Nope, I checked.

Every weekend since some time in September, when I have the time on the weekend to finally walk out the door to do some wandering around, if it was blue skies out they would soon be gone. The blue was rare enough, the days usually started out gray and stayed that way all day.

It’s getting harder to appreciate another gray day. I need sun, shadows, color, even the muted colors of winter.

Weekdays seem to be faring better, but who cares. I get to catch a glimpse of it as I walk past an office window. I always step outside on my lunch break and if I’m lucky I get a few sun rays, but by the time 4:30 rolls around, the sun is pretty much gone and if it was a blue sky kind of day, I wouldn’t know.

I hear they may finally abolish the archaic and inane daylight savings time next year. It was done away with in the late 70’s and brought back from the grave a few years later.

They should have left well enough alone.

In the mean time, another gray day.

I go for a walk. It doesn’t seem to last that long.

I take some pictures. They all look so flat.

Three more months of this.

This is not going to go well.

If there were trout in Illinois, which there isn't, they would live here.

If there were trout in Illinois, which there isn’t, they would live here.

It's a shame I can't hunt ducks here. It would be so easy.

It’s a shame I can’t hunt ducks here. It would be so easy.

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I can't remember a time when I didn't play around railroad tracks. Over a half century later, I see no point in changing now.

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t play around railroad tracks. Over a half century later, I see no point in changing now.

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In mid April, I will stand in this very spot and I will catch a smallmouth bass out of that little pool.

In mid April, I will stand in this very spot and I will catch a smallmouth bass out of that little pool.

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A Hard One to Shoot

Sometimes you run into something that’s a hard one to shoot.

This is one of those.

This little valley is maybe 200 yards wide, but I’ll bet it’s a half mile long.

I have no clue what these red leafed things are, burning bushes come to mind, but I have one of those in front of the house I rent.

That’s not it.

Doesn’t really matter.

Knowing the name of something doesn’t make me appreciate it any more, or less.

The ground cover in this valley is pretty sparse. Last week these red leafed bushes were just about all that was left that had any leaves on them.

They were everywhere, for as far as you could see up and down the valley.

None of the other shots I took did them justice.

Not convinced this one does either, but they are a hard one to shoot.

This will do, for now.