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Mark (blackstrat) > August 23, 2008. This is my friend Kurt and Spencer, "the world's greatest doggy," as Kurt called him. That's Spencer on the left. Spencer was a stray who haunted a deli Kurt frequented, where he was much loved by the clientele. He'd hang around politely, eyeing people's lunches, then pick out a likely candidate and gently lay his head in their lap. He was a great judge of character, and so was always rewarded with a laugh and a piece of cheese, his favorite. Spencer recognized the word cheese in at least seven languages. Seriously. Just whisper "formaggio" and you'd instantly have a smiling dog at your feet. Worried the dog would be picked up by animal control, the deli owner encouraged Kurt to adopt him. Kurt took him home and named him after British rocker Spencer Davis. Spencer Davis should feel honored. Spencer was the most athletic dog I've ever known, and the things he loved best were swimming and chasing sticks. And I don't mean puny little sticks; we're talking serious lumber here -- six feet long and as thick as your arm. I remember going down to the American River with Kurt and Spencer in March. In March the American River is fast and frigid with snow runoff. Kurt would find a huge log, and with both hands and a sort of discus-thrower spin, heave it out into the middle of the current. Spencer would stand at attention for a moment, triangulating, then run down the bank and jump in, swimming downstream at an angle ahead of the bobbing rushing stick, until they met in the middle, where he'd grab it and head for shore. Repeat endlessly until owner is exhausted; Spencer would hardly even breathe hard. Then one day last year Kurt took Spencer down to the river and tossed a stick, but this time Spencer looked at the stick, then looked sadly up at Kurt, and just lay down on the shore. Six weeks later he succumbed to cancer at the age of eight. So here's to you, Spencer; we wish we could have known you longer. You sure packed a lot of fun into your eight short years, but I'm sure you're in a place now that's full of cheese and sticks and rushing water and loving people whose arms never give out. Whew. Sorry about the length of this caption; I got to reminiscing. But that's what photos are for, isn't it?
Mark (blackstrat) > December 12, 2008. This is my Mom. I think she looks pretty darned good for 79. I'm not sure I like the propped on the hand pose, but this is the one she likes, so who am I to argue? This was from my first experience with studio lights. It was fun, but I think I need a lot more practice.
Mark (blackstrat) > September 11, 2008. On the north side of the Sutter Buttes in the Sacramento Valley there is a national wildlife refuge called Gray Lodge that is right in the middle of the Pacific Flyway. Every Fall and Spring millions of waterfowl stop at Gray Lodge on their migration. I took a drive out there one February, but it was almost a total disappointment as a photo expedition. The sky was gray, the water was gray, the vegetation was gray, and I couldn't get anywhere near any of the wildlife. Then, just as it was getting dark and I was about to give up and go home, the sun broke through the clouds for one glorious moment and everything turned pink. Two minutes later it was gone. This was the only decent shot I got that day.
Mark (blackstrat) > October 8, 2008. "When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore..." You think this little guy's thinking about his sweetie? Edit: I thought it was obvious, but in the interest of full disclosure, this is a PP combination of two different shots.
Mark (blackstrat) > October 28, 2008. On her first birthday, little princess Isabella was far too dainty to touch that sticky cake with her hands.
Mark (blackstrat) > December 3, 2008. Details of the Fall #5.
Mark (blackstrat) > September 25, 2008. OK, just one more hummingbird shot and then on to something else tomorrow. She looks like she's doing a swan dive. This probably isn't the best view of a hummingbird I've ever captured, but it's my all-time favorite bokeh. You could clone out the bird and I'd still like the shot. 8) These shots the last couple of days are all Rufous Hummingbirds, by the way (someone asked). The females are green on their backs with that reddish-gold under their wings and tails. The males are reddish-gold all over. Those spots on their necks are irridescent red in bright sunlight, like a ruby-throated hummingbird. Here in Northern California they'll hang around all winter if you keep the feeders full.
Mark (blackstrat) > October 20, 2008. Vision problems run rampant in my family.
Mark (blackstrat) > August 31, 2008. Chance isn't sure what to think about the Jack O'Lantern.
August 31, 2008.
Chance isn't sure what to think about the Jack O'Lantern.
Mark (blackstrat) > August 31, 2008. Chance isn't sure what to think about the Jack O'Lantern.
August 31, 2008.
Chance isn't sure what to think about the Jack O'Lantern.
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