Color. PLEASE. I need some COLOR…some sense of warmth and LIFE! It’s raining here AGaiN!!!!! And it’s COLD. And why I went for 2 days withOUT Internet and now that it IS raining, I actually HAVE it is as baffling as are the qualifications for being employed by Charter Communications as a technician. But I digress…as usual.

An adult male peacock has about 200 tail feathers that are shed and re-grown annually. About 170 of these tail feathers are ‘eye’ feathers and about 30 are ‘T’ feathers. The structure of these feathers, their placement and the bird’s ability to ‘deploy’ them in stunning displays of color is a natural wonder of intricate and critical design. The mechanisms responsible for producing these beautiful features of the male’s display feathers are very sophisticated.

If you’re painfully GEEKY like Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory, you might be interested in reading more about peacocks and their flashy feathers in this article: (click here). It goes into absurd detail, complete with scientific mathematical equations–GEEZ!), and the appearance of the word ‘genisis’ in the address, along with a light skim over the page’s text seems to indicate there is something in here somewhere about the argument between creationism and evolution. I don’t particularly CARE about such detail, nor does the common peaHEN. The important issue is that to be in the presence of a show-off male peacock is exhilarating and a wonder to behold. Fortunately for the peacock, peahens feel the same way.

You can meet this handsome specimen at Hollywild Animal Park in Inman, SC, or BUY A PRINT of the image above! Better yet…do BOTH!

(Click on the pictures to view a full-frame version, and to see picture title.)

(Click on the preview above to pull up a FULL VIEW of the picture.)

There is no question. With or without an official medical diagnosis, it’s certain that I am afflicted with SAD (seasonal affective disorder). It happens every year. I like winter to an extent, but after a couple of months of it, I’ve had enough…3 months and I’m bordering on severe depression and utter insanity.

Beginning in November, I start feeling unusually lazy and unmotivated. I can’t get going in the mornings and I plop down on the sofa like a slug at the end of a workday and gaze blankly at the TV as though in a coma. I don’t want to go anywhere, don’t want to do anything, don’t want to see anyone. If life did not necessitate full-time employment, I would happily drift into a full-fledged state of winter hibernation until this dreary season was passed.

Here in the south, we are not even graced with any of the normal perks of winter, such as pretty snow. Frozen precipitation here is more often just sloppy sleet and freezing rain, which too often results in DAYS (sometimes WEEKS) without power (aka Internet and TV…EGADS!). Even in those rare events when we actual DO see white stuff, we’re expected to risk life and limb to show up on the job regardless, so we don’t get to ENJOY it while it’s here…which is rarely more than 1 day at best.

Painting, drawing, even writing…creative inspiration and endeavors…it’s the ONE thing, the ONLY thing, I want to do during this miserably depressing season. I would be delighted to hold up in a cave and just paint the winter away, if not for the unreasonable demands of responsible living and friends who just do not understand the typical inclinations of a hermit afflicted with SAD.

I had important things to do today. I SHOULD have ridden at least one horse while the weather is not miserably cold. Instead, I fed them and considered my responsibilities met in full. I should have taken my dogs to the vet for their allergy shots. I overslept instead. I should have gone to pick up a print job that’s going to cost me God knows what. Instead, I started a painting. I’m not finished with it yet. I’m never really finished with anything, which is one reason I love digital media…it’s always available to revisit and improve upon, or even completely rework. If only LIFE were so easy to revist and improve upon…even rework entirely…

(Click on the preview above to pull up a FULL VIEW of the picture.)

Sometimes, things just don’t work the way they’re supposed to.

I shot this scene in the garden of an acquaintance. It seemed worthy of recording, since you don’t come across too many scarecrows with a beer in hand. But then, if all you had to do day in and day out was stand in a field in all manner of weather and scare away birds, I guess an altered state of consciousness COULD be somewhat useful.

I confess to having added the crow. Bob told me that the scarecrow was mostly for looks, as he had, on numerous occasion seen crows and other assorted fowl perch upon this novelty. Even though I was not fortunate enough to witness said hilarity, I am NOT without my own means to create my OWN Kodak moment.

I had a great image of one of the MANY crows that live near my own small farm, but the setting was quite uninteresting. I had this interesting shot of Bob’s garden scarecrow…quite unique in itself, but it too, still lacking SOMEthing. Hmmmm…

In the original shot of the scarecrow, I had failed to use an effective depth of field that would make the focal point (the scarecrow) stand out, so the busy background was distracting. I used a number of layer techniques, filters and effects to try to bring a more effective focal point back to the scarecrow and her pet. Here’s the final result. Won’t likely win any contests, but I thought it rather cute in depicting one of the many ironies of life.

…and mac and cheese, and dressing and gravy, and shelley beans, and creamed corn, and cranberry sauce and some manner of dreadfully fattening dessert.
(Well now, what OTHER image would you expect on Thanksgiving week?)

There will indeed be turkey on many a Thanksgiving feast table come Thursday of this week. But not this one. He is a yard pet of my good friend Wilma Howell, who lives on C-C Ranch near my home. This fellow was the first turkey I’ve ever met in person (or in FEATHER?)…all my other acquaintances have been upon a Thanksgiving or Christmas feast table.

The wild turkey is the largest game bird in this part of the world and was so common and revered in the early days of our nation that Benjamin Franklin wanted to make it our national bird. Except for the elaborate feather display, turkeys are really rather ugly by most standards. This fellow is a wild turkey, distinguishable from the common domestic turkey found on feast tables by his dark feathers that serve as camouflage in his natural surroundings. The common feast turkey (domestic) has white feathers and weigh about double the weight of the wild turkey, and is too heavy for flight.

The globbed/mottled up flesh of the Tom turkey’s head changes color in a full range from white to deep shades of red when excited, alarmed or during courtship. These birds spend days foraging for nuts, seeds, berries and small insects, and their nights, in the low branches of trees. Tom turkeys (males) make the familiar gobbling sound and puff up an elaborate display of their feathers as they strut their stuff to attract females (much like the typical males of other species…heh).

The feast that gave birth to our modern Thanksgiving celebration was the Pilgrim’s harvest festival in 1621. It’s original purpose was in thanking God for having guided them safely on their journey to the new land and for having sustained them through several years of drought during subsequent years. Four soldiers sent out by General Bradford to hunt wild fowl returned with so many birds that it fed the entire village for a week following. A local Indian tribe of Wampanoags contributed 5 deer and some other common local supplies as a neighborly gesture to their peaceful Pilgrim neighbors.

And so the turkey’s doom was sealed. I would like to say that I’m far too compassionate a human being to eat animal flesh, but alas, I could not imagine a Thanksgiving feast without the traditional turkey centerpiece. What might really be disturbing to some, is that my African Grey parrot, Norton, looks as forward to the Thanksgiving turkey as the rest of the household. It’s generally the only time of year we roast a whole turkey (and we’re only able to do that because we buy enough groceries at Ingles in the weeks preceding Thanksgiving to get a FREE 10-14 lb frozen Butterball), thereby the only time of year that Norton gets to eat a turkey drumstick. She doesn’t just ‘gnaw’ the bone, the DEVOURS it, generally within about 20-30 mins.

I figure that if it’s okay for a BIRD to eat BIRD for Thanksgiving, surely I can do so with relatively clear conscience.

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