Spider Woman

I've been working through several books trying to learn about my new camera. One book interviews a well known photographer and asks what they enjoy most about photography. He or she replied "so I can see what I normally could not see." And it's true! I see hundreds of these tiny, dew covered webs all over my fields every summer morning and have never gotten past the "little red dot" of a spider. Here is one web, all 2 1/4 inches of it:

A closer look at the artist:

Even better, we got a tiny amount of rain the other evening and I grabbed my camera and headed out. I thought I was taking pictures of the droplets of water on a pine branch, but what I actually captured was this tiny, tiny spider, revealed to me only after I had come in and downloaded it to my computer. Revealed to you only if you follow the link to a bigger view. What magic!

I could take hundreds of pictures of my friendly spiders inside and out. I've never questioned my fascination with them. How could you ever really look at a spider's web and not be completely fascinated. While I don't really want them actually crawling across my hand, I'm more than willing to live and let live and watch from afar (or up close with a 200mm lens ;-).

Sometimes you just have to pay attention to see where you fit in the world. As a collector of intricately woven bird nests and an avid spider watcher and protector, it came as no surprise that I felt right at home when I took my first weaving lesson and learned about the real Spider Woman. But, more about her in another post.

Tomato Talk

I always find cool writing spiders in my garden. They don't bother me at all and I feel just horrible if I don't notice them as I'm sticking my hand in to grab a tomato and destroy their entire night's work.

Tim's brother can catch flies with his bare hands (no foolin'). Last summer when they were visiting, we captured some great video of him tossing flies into one of our spider's webs. While I admit it did sort of have a feeling of playground cruelty, it was truly facinating to watch the spider work. Maybe this is one of her children.

I Have No Excuses

There's been plenty to post, but I just haven't gotten it done. Sigh. For a little (more) catch up, I am thoroughly enjoying my new camera, a Nikon D40x. I missed so many good shots of various birds, and especially Woodstock, with the little camera, that I decided it was time to move up. I got this shot of Woodstock from inside the house, through a glass door.

This shot of Ewenice and the boys I took from WAY up at the barn as the sun was going down. Note to Ewen - I have a big zoom, so I can watch you from afar. Actually, as time goes on, Ewen has become not the worst behaved sheep we have - now that's a designation for you. When something's going down, you can bet Boudreaux (the brown sheep between Ewenice and Buddy) is leading the pack.

And this little flower came up under the bird feeder. Maybe Woodstock planted it just for us :-).

Catching Up

I'm in the middle of several cool projects, but in the meantime:

I made this. This is a big accomplishment - I am not a good knitter. I am so not a good knitter that after starting this several times and being completely frustrated, I decided to weave it, which I did. It was very pretty. However, I felt really guilty because I didn't stick with the original project, so I unwove it, got some bamboo needles and... Whew!

Tim and I installed this (notice how hazy the picture looks - that's from the unbelievable heat and humidity - fogged up my camera).

And Woodstock is doing just fine out in the big world. I usually spot him at least once a day at the feeder and it makes my day. Go Woodstock!

Graduation

After a night resting from his first venture into the big world, Woodstock was up and ready to go. I spent a good part of the day working in the room nearest the feeder so I could monitor the activity out there. Since he'd seemed thirsty the day before, I moved his old water bowl out where he could find it, and he came around several times. Once I was able to catch a picture of him hanging with some of his buds.

I was nervous when I didn't see him in the evening, but hoped that maybe he was so smart that he'd realized that if he came around at that time again, he might get caught and have to spend another night looking geeky in his cage.

Bright and early this morning I thought I saw a familiar face poking around under the grape arbor. He's still darker than the other doves, but it was hard to say for sure since he was in the shade. Then, he ventured over to the water bowl and got a drink. He'd made it!

"Oh, the places you'll go!" (A little good Dr. Seuss karma). Go well, little Woodstock. I'll keep the water bowl out as long as you need it and the feeder will always be full.