Justfolk's photos

I've been investigating lately how I can fix some picture problems by looking at and modifying the Hue, Saturation, and Lightness Maps that Paint Shop Pro can produce. Sometimes the maps themselves are interesting. This is a pigeon in our apple tree this morning, as seen in the Saturation Map which I reversed (into a negative of itself, though more natural than the map had been) and then tweaked the tonal curve of to get something more pleasant. Not a *very* traditional b&w, but at least interesting.

At sunset this evening, I took some pictures of the brilliant pink sky behind neighbours' trees. In tidying up one of the pictures, I looked at its "saturation map" and liked it better than the original picture. This is it.

Our snowdrops are showing up in greater numbers as the snow starts to melt back. I still had to kneel on the wet snow on the front lawn this afternoon to get low enough to take this picture.

A roof I can see from our dining-room window.

A friend gave us a few bottles of wine she'd been keeping around for years. This was a 1996 South African wine and it was still perfect when I opened it this evening. Mmmm. Here's to friends, including those who have stopped drinking and need to get rid of their stash!

The moon rises out of the sea a half hour or so before we see it over the hill that hides the sea from our view. But when it did rise this evening over the hill, Shea Heights, this is what we saw, just a few minutes ago.

Well, not far at all. Most of our front lawn has about 30cm, and more, of dense snow, thrown up from the paths and sidewalk. But in one little corner where the snow is nearly melted, the snowdrops are looking forward. I'm willing to declare today the first of Spring.

Three days before the Full Moon, the moon looks pretty full. This was outside our kitchen door a few minutes ago.

Bet, my bernlaw's mother, was 97 when she died last week. She was a smart, funny, and active woman up until around her 96th birthday. But her last year was a decline and her death no surprise. We buried her today and then retired to her grandson's house for a proper send-off. For every person at the graveside, there were five or six at the party. I was among the oldest there and there were a few not yet in school. Ninety-seven is a good age and Bet used hers well; the party reflected that. Food and toasts and stories and good cheer were all around.

Outside our kitchen door a few minutes ago, these two were sitting quietly with each other. A moment later a dog barked and they both jumped a bit.

Last summer a friend of ours, now in her (nearly) mid-eighties, gave us a selection of bottles from her basement. She'd kept this wine for a couple of decades. But in the meantime she had given up drinking. She wanted it out of the house. We were glad to be the beneficiaries. We are slowly going through what she gave us. This was a 22-year-old French red and it held up very well. We drank it over a couple of nights this week. Mmmm.

The crows are feeling springish and for a few days have been gathering their sticks. I saw this crow this morning with a foot-long stick in his claws. As I moved to take a second picture, he startled, dropping the stick, which clattered to the ground. He flew away.

Have patience. Spring will come.

Crow. Walking the shingles. Picking at moss. Eating the odd bit. Keeping his balance. Minding his business.

Yesterday morning, while the storm was still delivering snow, the first to show up at the feeders was this female Northern flicker. She dislodged a pretty big chunk of suet, and lots of snow on it, and flew away.

We had a small crowd of Mourning doves hanging around outside our kitchen door through much of the winter. Three weeks ago a hawk took out one of them, a male I think, and the oldest in the group. We didn't see the rest of them much at all since then. But this morning, this one and another showed up. The mourning period, if that's what it was, may be over.

By 9 am next morning, we've had about 20 cm of snow, with expectations of more to fall. This is the same view as the previous picture, but twelve hours later.

OK, without going into questions of congruency with the modern tax year, and the traditional seasons, nor with the equinox and the modern Persian Nowruz, let me say that for centuries the British celebrated New Year's Eve tonight, and the New Year tomorrow, March 25th. Fact is, we keep the tree up and lit on nights like this until it goes blasty, usually in May month. And, we will tell you, the birds like it. In any case, this is the view right now out our kitchen door, in the wintry blasts of the hungry month. Happy New Year, all.