Archive | May 2018

The one, the only

DSC_3092.jpgStar quarterback of the herd, Mr. Ben.  This boy. ❤

I’m really happy with this picture and I hope that you enjoy it too.

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography

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The Poet’s Table

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“The Poet’s Table”
 
Built by the self named Vegabond Poet in the 1960s. It has sat in this particular spot for 16 plus years, though it was not the original location. I will not disclose the location for the same reason many are angry about the ones that have. Even if I did, it would not matter….over the weekend people took it upon themselves to remove not only the table and chairs, but the books and keepsakes people left behind. Left behind as a tradition, because that is what the site became. A place to hike to and leave a note or something to show you were there.
 
I found myself torn as there was graffiti on the walls of the mountain alcove. Graffiti?  Why do people feel the need to write on everything, but it has become a custom for this particular spot.  There is chalk for the option.

The suspects stated they did it because no one was taking care of it.  Considering the location, I’m not sure what they were expecting.  I’m also not sure the condition when they saw it.  When I was there, there was nothing there that would justify (except for the graffiti) that there is a disrespect for the area.  At least not at first, by the end of my trip  people had started leaving behind water bottles.  Plastic, store bought water bottles.  I’m sure they would justify it by saying that it is tradition to leave something behind.  Um…there’s a different between leaving something of thought and leaving something of trash and leaving a plastic water bottle is just laziness.  Especially, when there is a community trash bag a few feet away.

The suspects that took it upon themselves to remove the items, sawed the table in half to carry it down.  Now, I will admit that leaving trash is one of my biggest pet peeves.  The graffiti was disheartening; however, however, I think sawing the table in half and removing all the items may be slightly worse. Trash can be removed, memories (items representing those memories) cannot be replaced.

 
The items have been retrieved. I can only assume in their entirety.  The suspects caught, or turned themselves in.  Rumor is that there will be no charges.  Some say that they did nothing illegal.  This thought confuses me, because though the table was not an official park attraction, it had become a part of the park and the park (and County Sheriff’s Office) consider the act vandalism and the last I checked…vandalism is illegal.  The suspects were smiling as they carried the items down the trail (they were caught on camera by another hiker…who in return caught grief for taking the pictures instead of stopping them.  Really?  Can’t win for losing and people are rarely satisfied).  Anyway, as they felt they were doing no wrong at the time, I suspect a fine would not phase them a bit.   What is done is done anyway?  Will making an example out of them really matter?  In today’s world?  I’m going to go with no.

As for the items, the park plans on returning them to their “original location.” The question would remain whether that means the site that has become known, or the site where they were originally built. Either way, it will never be the same. The people whom took it…well, they made sure of that. The table will have to be repaired and even more visitors will want to see the infamous table.  This means more graffiti, more trash, and more people that feel they have the right to do some kind of harm to the popular area.   People always want to see sites of popularity and there are always people that ruin it for everyone else. That may be extreme, but it is the truth.

 
I am glad that I was able to see it in its resting place before people took it upon themselves to decide its fate.  It is in a peaceful and beautiful place.  I could do without seeing the road and the cars, or hearing the other people….but that is neither here nor there at this point.  I’m sure that was not the case many years ago.

With all that said, the pictures may not do it the justice it deserves, but I hope that you enjoy them just the same.

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography

The Boys

Crystal’s brothers, HP and Bo.  They seem a little closer now that she’s gone.  They also both get fed now and they take advantage of it.  They also take advantage of the fact that I give them treats.  I absolutely adore them.  Beautiful boys.

I’ve been working on my black background photos.  I don’t know if I will ever be one that can make the pictures that some make with them, but that is okay.  I’m all about dancing to my own drum these days and people are either going to like it or they’re not.  I’m no longer going to let that rust my spurs.  With that said, I do hope that you like them.

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography

Journal Entry #310

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“The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled.” ~Plutarch~

 

The restoration. Using fire to recover from fire. Irony at its finest.

Fire destroyed parts of this land and now it is being used to purify for new growth. I find that fascinating.  That we use fire to both destroy and to purify.  I also have to admit that I kind of love that fact.  I’ve always had a soft spot for fire.  Not in a pyromaniac kind of way, but in a wow, fire is amazing” kind of way.   Hmm…now I think about that, I guess that is exactly the kind of thing that a pyromaniac would say.

Seriously, though….fire.  That is something. I have a thing for powerful things that can be destructive and beautiful at the same time.  Maybe it is because fire is my element sign.  I mean, if you are into that kind of thing.

I was born in November and my element sign is fire.  According to most sites, this means that I have a fiery temper…that’s fair.  Lively wit….truth.  And a quick intelligence…Seems accurate.  It also says that I’m creative and spirited, but to be forewarned when I am hot-tempered.  Truth be told, I can’t argue with any of it really.

I also like the smell of fire.  There is something about the smell of burning wood.  Bonfires. Forest fires.  Hmm….maybe I am a pyromaniac.  That could explain why I’m constantly burning cupcakes, but those do not smell near as good as burning wood.  Burning wood. Is that a song?  It should probably be a song.

Actually, I can’t possibly be a pyromaniac.  I can’t even get a campfire started.  I mean, like seriously.   I can’t even catch charcoal on fire. I’m clearly doing something wrong.  I like trees. Why would I want to catch them on fire. I wouldn’t be able to hug them or cling on to them, when I wear out after that 1.25 miles of a steep incline hike.  Nope, that’s it.  I renounce my pyromaniac tendencies.  Accept for catching cupcakes on fire.  Until I get use to my oven and baking again, I’ll probably continue to do that.

I’ll save the bonfires and campfires for my friends to start for me.  It’d be my luck, I’d just catch myself on fire anyway.

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography

Journal Entry #255

 

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I sit upon a rock, just staring into the blueness of a sky. I bunch on my trail mix. I feel eyes upon me. I look around, but see no one and yet the the holes are burning through me.

I hear tiny little pebbles shuffle and look down, a chipmunk scurries off behind a rock. I go back to my trail mix. The eyes are back.

I look in the direction of the new burning hole, He stands and stares. I dig through the fruits and nuts, and throw a peanut in his direction….he doesn’t take the bait and scurries off again.

I know that I should not feed him. He’s a chipmunk. An animal. A “wild” animal. I should feel threatened by him, I’m sure. With his beady little eyes and puffy little tail. Those tiny little claws. Those are the ones that you have to watch out for. The cheeky little monkeys.

He’s back. Staring at the nut. He looks around, but not in my direction. He takes the nut and runs off behind a far rock. No thank you, no nothing. Cheeky little monkey.

I toss another nut in his direction. A bit closer this time. Not on purpose, but it works. He runs up and a test it. I guess to ensure that it is good enough to take. He munches a bit and then takes it to his hole in the rocks.

I wonder if he has a little chipmunk crew waiting back there. Maybe it is the chipmunk SOA and he is the prospect. In charge of running all the errands and collecting all the food. Checking out the humans to figure out which will feed them and which will run. They’re all sitting around a table with the president of the club. A real Clay Marrow type.

I know I shouldn’t throw another nut. Shame on me, but what’s he going to do. Attack my face. Someone will say yes, but he’s more scared of me. I don’t know where he is anyway. Probably at a meeting. Plotting their next job.

I can’t resist. I toss the nut. He doesn’t see it. I toss another one. Now there are two. Prospect brought a friend. This one looks like Jax. Scoping out the new lead. I will call him Jax. Maybe I should call the other one Opie. Jax and Opie. They discovered both nuts and left. Greedy little guys.

Wait, he’s back. A few feet next to me on the same rock. There’s two now. The little chipmunk is back. Closer now. He’s not the rock next to me. Staring at my bag of trail mix. Now there are eyes on the other side. His buddy is back too. They’re surrounding me. Maybe I really should be scared of this little mini motorcycle crew.

Nah. I doubt it. The wind blew and shifted the edge of my shirt. They took off running and now it is time for me to go.

~2018 SMH~

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Ode to the Woodpecker

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Oh, Mr. Woodpecker
I hear you
Hiding in the woods
Pecking away on your chosen one

You’re somewhere nearby
I look for you
Your pecking stops
You’re nowhere to be found
I continue on

It starts again
That alluring calling
Sound of your beak
Tearing away on wood

It taunts me
Teasing me
Peck, peck, peck
100 beats per sec

I swear you moved
Your peckings
They are in my ear
I look again
Still see you I do not
I move on

Your pecking follows me
Closer than before
I try to ignore you
Your game of hide and seek

It’s a game you usually win
I know I will not find you
Yet your pecking persist
It becomes hard to resist

I stop
You stop
I look
There you are

You look
You fly away
Your wings almost smile
It’s like a joke

I roll my eyes
Another picture lost
Silly bird
I knew better than to try
I move on

There’s your pecking again
In front of me
Beside me
You’ve called upon friends
And now its everywhere

Pecking echos around me
But yours was distinct
Your little call
Taunting me from behind

Figures that is where it would be
The direction from which I came
I look
It’s only you I see

Off in the distance
Too high
Too far
Too late

You look at me
I look at you
A second passes by
You go back to pecking away

I hear that
Your Woody Woodpecker laugh
You know I am not coming back
You’ve won the round
And you let it be known

With every chipped piece of wood
Every peck in my ear
You tease me with your pecking call
Just mocking me as I walk away

Well played, Mr. Woodpecker
Well played

2018 ~SMH~

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography

Open Road….

DSC_7046Sometimes all we need is an open road and no place to be.  At least some of us do.  I do.  Most of the time.

My third trip anywhere doesn’t always fair as well as my first two trips.  There is always something and a different type of enlightenment.  That is what has happened this time.  I’m ready for a new road.  I should actually laugh at that.  You should probably laugh at that.  Why?  I’m always ready for a new road.  I get bored so ridiculously easy.  I guess this is bound to happen when you work an office job where you sit a desk all day long, staring at a computer, and trying to keep your mouth shut when someone insults your intelligence (or you’d really like to insult theirs or the lack there of).

I was born to travel.  I really cannot deny that.  I believe someone might describe it as being born with a  gypsy soul.  I would have to say after a bit of research that is very much true.  I’m constantly struggling to find and searching for that one place.  I’m constantly looking for adventure and to roam. More than anything I love the feeling of being free.  Being on the open road with no one else around to dictate how fast or how slow I go.  When I can stop and when I can leave. I hate restraints.  A lot of us do, I know that I’m not alone.  Just the same.

I’ve lost my train of thought…at least for this topic, so I will move on to the picture.  This was early-early morning.  At the break of day in the Badlands.  It was cold, it was windy, and it was like freakin’ early (did I mention that).  Normally, that would not have bothered me but I never did get a good nights sleep.  The Badland wind was not kind to me but that is a whole other story.

I wanted to work on my long exposure but ND filter is jacked up.  I mean, scratched and coating is coming off.  It was horrible.  You can’t actually see it much in this photo but there are little….let’s call them light bubbles.  Spots that show more light…its not an even filter flow.  I think it really worked for this photo.  I did a bit to alter it, but the colors are merely enhanced and not altered.   I hope you like it as much as I do.

Have a beautiful day and tomorrow.

Montana Rose Photography