Category: Uncategorized

The Bald Bird

I haven’t made the trip up to the Klamath Basin to see the Bald Eagles for a few years. A visit several years ago was disappointing with lack of water and wildlife in the midst of drought. We have had a couple of decent winters, so I went. It was pleasantly surprising to see all the waterways full to overflowing. Wildlife was there in abundance and of course the stars of the show, the Bald Eagles were plentiful.

Argenta Wildlife Management Area

The AWMA is a relatively new wildlife area that was created from a historic ranch property along the Humboldt River on the outskirts of Battle Mountain Nevada. I follow several wildlife pages on Facebook and have seen some good photos from a local photographer who visits the area regularly. I took a trip out there yesterday. It wasn’t productive from a wildlife photography standpoint, but I had the property to myself. I had a pleasant few miles of walking through the area. I thought it might be too early for a lot of bird life, and it was, but the habitat is healthy and looks like it supports many species. I will visit again when the birds are present.

The loading chute at the abandoned ranch at the center of the property

I think this is an old fuel tank for the ranch.

The Humboldt. It will be a trickle in the summer but is flowing full with snow run off.

The Machine Shop

Abandoned ranch house. I think that autumn photos here would be pretty.

Pronghorn

I have been going out in the evenings trying to find owls to photograph. Barn Owls and Short-eared owls often fly at dusk this time of year. No luck with owls thus far but I did run into this nice little band of Pronghorn. They are my favorite animal. They look so exotic for the sagebrush steppe. Like something that would be more at home in Africa. Their huge eyes and unique colors make them a beautiful contrast on the drab winter landscape.

America the Poem by Joseph Massey

Rain washes the dust from train windows 
as we barrel through the poem of America.
From New York to Chicago, I watch it scroll by—
frame by frame and line by line.

        Rivers and lakes reflect the pale winter sky
and haunt my vision. 
                 America, what you were, 
and will be again—I see you 
in silos rising like fists from farmland.
America, the land itself says, “Fight!”

America, I see you in chipped brick walls 
stained with faded logos. 
                I see you there, waiting 
to rise from gone-under towns
and cities spangled in endless dusk.

               We can see you now
emerging from boarded-up corner bars,
baseball fields barbed with weeds,
hollowed-out churches
and factories folded in on themselves
like crushed cans reclaimed by the wild. 

               And we see you, and we know you 
in ragtag families packed into vehicles 
to head to church on a Sunday, 
or to visit a grandfather who remembers war 
and what it means to survive 
for love of the country that survives because of him
and his brothers—gone.

America, for love, we go on. 

        America, you defy the narratives 
imposed to poison your majesty.
All the poison imposed 
to warp us away from our axis:
the true, the beautiful, what binds us
to a shared reality 
sealed under the hand of God.

     Americans, may we all wake 
to the dawn, this day,
with courage, 
for we are the whirlwind 
promised by patriots 
who fought to the depth 
of a last breath 
to birth America.
And we are here—
there is no other time—
to watch her rise again.

Today is a day of deep mourning for half of America and a day of cynical indifference for the other half of America. May we bridge the gap in the near future or fall into the darkness of a failed dream.