Just A Bit Of Show and Tell....

I just feel like doing a little bit of show and tell today. The image you see, on the right, is a watercolor painting of a saw-whet owl. I found it in my basement when I was searching for Satan (see squirrel story below).

Some years ago, in the early 80s, I was very much into painting wildlife. Of course, someday I intended to make my fortune by winning the Federal Duck Stamp Contest. Then I could spend all my time painting. But, at the same time, I wasn't making a great deal of money even though all my work sold. I supplemented this by doing cartoons and selling them to newspapers and magazines. I'll post some of those in the coming days, but for now I just want to recall the peaceful afternoons in the nature preserves.

Maybe one of these days I'll dig up my old Windsor Newton paints and brushes and have another go at it.

I Would Even Settle For Being Here Right Now....

After last night, I'd even settle for being in this photo. Taken in the fall of 2006 at the Rifle River in Michigan, it wasn't the best of days, but it certainly beats the chill we've had lately!

Last night, my son convinced me to go ice fishing for Saginaw River walleye. We have, afterall, a worldclass walleye fishery. And he has a portable two-man shanty, heater, fishfinder, lantern, power ice auger, and plenty of rods and tackle. So, what's to lose? I can dress for the 20-below windchill, and besides, I'd get out of the house for a couple of hours. Walleye are great on the grill and I haven't had any in some time.

However, I should have known we've be doomed, as we are on most of our fishing encounters. The temperature plummeted as the wind picked up, the fish weren't biting, and it was too cold to enjoy the beer....which was frozen, anyway, by the time we pitched fishing camp in the middle of the river. That certainly explains why there was only one other lone soul out there with us.

Several hours later, about midnight, we decided it was a wash and we should call it quits. We caught no fish, the heater ran out of propane, and my son had frostbite blisters on his fingers....(the good Samaritan that he is, he offered to drill a hole for the stranger. Ten minutes later, he was in no mood for much more fishing....as his fingers weren't feeling very comfortable). It was time go home.

I don't know what it is about us and fishing. The pain and suffering we endure must be a little bit like when an expectant mom goes into labor. All that pain and discomfort, but we go right ahead and do it again! I'm cold now.....but give me a couple of days and I'll be ready to try for the trophy walleye that I know is out there.
(The above photo was taken with my Nikon D50 and 55-200mm AF-S Nikkor lens.)

Satan Is In My Basement!

The squirrel in the illustration that you see is wearing a disguise. I know this because he looks "cute" and "loveable". The fact is, he's the spawn of Satan, and he's in my basement.

The weather in Michigan, this week, has been extremely cold. We've had -26 degree days and nights including wind-chill. This apparently caused Satan to go to my chimney to get warm. Soon, however, it was overcome by carbon monoxide and passed out, falling down my chimney. Upon awakening, Chucky (Satan) promptly found it's (I don't know if it is a 'he' or 'she') way out through the pipe to the furnace. Now, my basement is trash! My wife called me at work, saying that we had a very angry squirrel in our basement. I hurried home, knowing the damage an angry squirrel can do. This could be far worse than "a woman scorned", which is another of my biggest fears.

The first thing I did was have a beer to brace my nerves. Then, I donned my "Elmer Fudd" suit, complete with face covering and leather gloves......damn those angry squirrels! After loading the pellet rifle, grabbing a flashlight, and shoving a .22 caliber semi-auto pistol into my waistband, I was as ready as Rambo. I decended slowly down the basement stairs, not wanting Satan to come at me from nowhere. I looked around, opened a window, and placed a ladder below it (I figured I'd help Satan get to freedom). Now, I smelled gas! I turned around to the hot water heater.....thinking the pilot light might be out, I got down to the floor and looked for a flame. At that moment there was a commotion beside me and I ducked! When I regained my nerve, I turned and saw droppings on the floor (no, they weren't mine), and plastic soda bottles rolling about. Surely, Satan had taken steps to the open window. ( The illustration is mine. It's done with Windsor Newton watercolors on archival watercolor paper. It was painted in 1980....I must have had a premonition)

Long Forgotten...The rest of the story.

The story "Long Forgotten..." that's posted a couple of posts below is true. Grandma's explanation follows here, as told by the author.

When the episode was over, grandma explained to me that her house had somehow become marked by the hobos as a place where they could receive a good, free meal. The railroad line that passed the farm was about a mile down the road.

My grandfather had worked as a telegraph operator at the depot many years ago. Perhaps he felt compassion for the desparate men he witnessed riding the rails as hobos and offered one a free meal. I'm sure he never anticipated word would pass so quickly among the men. How it was done grandma never knew. She didn't refused a stranger though.

I never knew my grandfather. He died a year and a half before I was born. Maybe, unknowingly, some kind gesture he showed many years ago was still touching us.

The National Railroad Museum had an extensive display of "Hobo Art" and memorabilia. If not for that exhibit, I can't say I ever would have recalled the incident. Thank you National Railroad Museum. DMK

Where I Want To Be Right Now....

It's -18 degrees with windchill where I am right now! This photo is where I want to be. It was shot with a Nikon D50 digital SLR from an overlook above Michigan's beautiful Ausable River in July of '06. It's weather like we have today that makes me really appreciate past moments like the one pictured.

Click on the photo to enlarge it, then just scroll around in it and you'll know what I mean. You'll want to be there, too.

Long Forgotten....

(The following was submitted recently. I enjoyed it, so I thought I'd share it.)

Recently I visited the National Railroad Museum in Green Bay, Wisconsin. As I toured the facility slowly by myself, a long forgotten memory of my childhood tapped it's way into my head.

Every summer I spent about a week visiting my grandmother on her farm about an hour's drive from home. Not especially enjoying what I considered the long hot farm days, I could be found inside the house reading or helping grandma with domestic chores.

All that changed one sunny warm afternoon, with a knock at my grandmother's kitchen door. Quickly I jumped into action to see what diversion had come my way! On the porch stood a tall, thin man with tanned skin and sunken eyes. As I looked through the screen door at this figure, he seemed to look beyond me into the kitchen. I immediately heard the swift click of grandma's shoes on the tile floor as she approached behind me. Quietly but commanding, much unlike grandma, she told me not to open the screen door, but to move into the pantry and ask no questions. Doing as I was told, I watched silently from the distance as grandma took action.

What was this sudden mystery that was unfolding before my eyes? A dull farm day suddenly turned on the imagination of this ten year old. All I could do was quietly watch and wonder. With no one else in the house to answer my questions, it was like being in the audience of a silent movie.

Grandma moved quickly. Barely audible, I heard her ask the stranger to sit on the porch next to the kitchen door. Now, the kitchen became a flurry activity as she went from pantry to stove to refrigerator mixing up a plate of fried potatoes, meat, and milk, all the while giving me a stern look but saying nothing.

My wild thoughts started to race like horses out of the starting gate! Was this a friend or foe? My normally friendly and gracious grandma was definitely not herself.

The plate was ready, now, and I watched a very somber grandma open the screen door and set the plate on the porch near our visitor. The screen door seemed, to me, to move in slow motion. Then grandma's hand nimbly flipped the hook that latched the door. I could see the man bent over the plate, balancing it on his knees. He ate faster than I ever thought a man could eat! Having consumed everything on the plate, he set it aside a started down the steps. Grandma and I watched as he disappeared down the dusty dirt road, but first grabbing a low hanging apple from the tree in the yard.

I could hardly wait to pop the questions! What just happened? Who was that strange man?

If you know, or have had a similar experience, please comment to this post. Grandma's explanation will be posted in a couple of days, and you'll know..... like it or not!
(Submitted by DMK, copyright 2007. Illustration by DFKrease, watercolor 1978)

Long Forgotten....

Tomorrow I'm publishing, with permission and by choice, an interesting story about a woman's reminiscence of long forgotten childhood memories. Check it out....you'll like it.

It's a wonder.....to behold

Express yourself, whether by means of poetry, literature, music, photography, dance, and the visual arts. And, let us not forget the culinary arts! ....... Express YOURSELF.
This photo was taken in the summer of 2006 with a Nikon D50 and a 200mm Nikon lens. It's the same location as the previous sunrise photo but much further back. St. Ignace, Michigan is a wonderful place.

SUNRISE AT ST. IGNACE, MICHIGAN

...it's a beautiful thing. Nikon D50 /200mm