It was nap time for our granddaughter. Unable to get out at dawn I headed out to take some pictures. Along the way I spotted this horse in a pasture. When I looked through the viewfinder this is what I saw. Its funny how certain images trigger a memory cell to fire. Seeing this horse head took me back to my grandmothers kitchen table. Horses were a great love of “Mick” as grandmom was called by some.
Many a pleasant hour I spent watching her draw horse heads. Her drawings composed exactly as this horses head appeared. The only difference was the position of the ears. She always had the ears up or pointed slightly forward. An ear posture of a happy or content horse. The mare in the photo was evidently not thrilled to be photographed. When a horse lays its ears back pay attention. If you were saddling the horse it might swing around and take a nip at your bum. I may be about to buck to throw you off, had I been a straddle.
Arriving at Long Run park this Great Blue Heron was perching on one leg. The bird high in a dead tree. The drizzling rain made me think that this was weather fit for a duck. It was quiet with only the occasional chatter of a kingfisher breaking the silence.
A kayak fisherman out on the lake seemed so peaceful. A cigar clenched in his teeth as he waited for a bite.
A small flock of mallards were bathing in the shallows of one cove. Easing up behind some brush I hunkered down to watch. The ducks dipping and dipping under the water bathing. Then raising up and flapping to dry their wings.
A song sparrow landed nearby. The bird shaking the dampness off, then fluffing up its feathers.
It was comfortable sitting in the misting rain. Calming as the ducks eased back and forth, stopping to bath and shake off. Now and then dunking their heads feeding with tails raised.
A few ducks flew off quacking as if to say “heading out to exercise my wings”. There is a certain grace to birds flying that thrill me as much as watching a leaping three finger catch by a wide receiver. A short time later the mallards that left would drop back in to the flock. Winging almost straight down. I missed some good chances as it was a neat surprise as the ducks plopped down hard sending up a wave as if they were a kid doing canonball jumps in a pool. Nothing graceful about their landings.
The patches of wing color of the female mallard are eye catching against the mottled tones of their overall brown coloration.
A sound like a jungle bird calling struck my ears. I looked up to see a Pileated Woodpecker pounding away at a branch.
After a few quick hammers it flew off. Every now and then I could hear the bird drumming away in the distance.
The intensity of the mist began to increase as the flock of mallards flew off together. I headed back to the house at peace from a splendid mid-day sit in the rain.