Nice pix expressionism, and everybody else too.
Last month I was running on a forest service road behind Mount Scott in southern Oklahoma when I met this lil’ feller:
He said he wasn’t going to step aside for anybody, especially some dude in gym shorts with a cell phone, so I sneaked off to the side, got behind a rock, and let him saunter on by.
Uhhhh...
Woah! I've never seen a buffalo in real life, they're my favorite ungulate.
__________________
"Personal note: When I was a little kid my mother told me not to stare into the sun. So once when I was six, I did. At first the brightness was overwhelming, but I had seen that before. I kept looking, forcing myself not to blink, and then the brightness began to dissolve. My pupils shrunk to pinholes and everything came into focus and for a moment I understood. The doctors didn't know if my eyes would ever heal."
-Pi
Now see, that’s one of the things I like about this website: Ungulate is a word I’d’ve probably lived my whole life and never known had it not been for Juniper floating it out here with such understated glory.
And that buffalo was a glorious creature. When I came around the bend and saw him standing there, I quickly grabbed the cellphone out of my Camelbak so that I could snap his picture before he spooked. But I don’t think that animal was spookable; he simply lowered his head and began shaking it from side to side, pawed at the earth a few times, snorted, and then came towards me, slowly and purposefully. I, meanwhile, reversed course.
Speaking of ungulates, a little farther down the trail I saw this magnificent artiodactyl. He didn't like me either.
Uhhhh...
haha.Originally Posted by Sancho
I know that place, been there three times.
During one hike, a few bison crossed in front of us.
The Prarie Dog village is amusing too.
Thanks for posting.
.
How-d-do, Gill?
Yep, I was in the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge, a beautiful little swath of land in south-central Oklahoma, a place too rocky to drag a plow through, which explains why it became a wildlife refuge and not a farm.
http://www.fws.gov/southwest/refuges...chitamountains
I’m not a superstitious person, but it was a magical moment. When I came around the bend and faced El Cid there (the American Buffalo, Bison, Ungulate, Artiodactyl, Tatonka, or better yet – 1000 pounds of ornery) Malagueña had just cued up on my iPod. And I knew that that moment would somehow be perfect if I had been carrying a red cape and had a long-stemmed rose clenched between my teeth.
This place is not too far from Quanah Parker’s house, and since this is The Literature Network, I’ll make a book recommendation: Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History, by S.C. Gwynne. I read it last spring and all I have to say is, freaking awesome!
Uhhhh...
Was that run your fastest time ever?
I truly admire everyone's dedication to photography. I think I am missing the photo-gene. Hardly ever occurs to me to take photos.
~
"It is not that I am mad; it is only that my head is different from yours.”
~
Well, not exactly. I’ve found, with critters, it’s generally best to hold your ground and try to look as big as possible. Running away usually triggers chase mechanism. They’re like cops: if you run – they will chase you. It’s instinctual. This guy, however, wasn’t buying it. He started towards me, building momentum, and in that moment, like a lightning bolt burnt across my brain, I knew exactly what he was thinking: You suck. I’m going to stick you, Spandex-boy. So I zigged and zagged back up the road, frequently checking six and snapping photos until I found a big-ole, buffalo-proof rock to hide behind.
These are from a different day, but in the same general vicinity. The ladies (as is the case with most species) were much more even tempered than their male counterparts, and they let me get a lot closer.
Should I touch her?
Also I was operating the zoom function on cell-phone camera – from inside my rent-a-car, which had full insurance coverage. I love rent-a-cars. No curb too high.
Uhhhh...
A few images from this morning's hike:
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Beautiful colours, Gilliatt!
No wonder that Pushkin loved this season so much!
'A melancholy time! So charming to the eye!
Your beauty in its parting pleases me -
I love the lavish withering of nature...'
"Where love is there God is also".
Leo Tolstoy
Sweet pix, Gill.
You must be in East Texas.
Uhhhh...
I grew this from seed:
I've been waiting for forever for this thing to bloom and it bloomed while I was gone.
Do, or do not. There is no try. - Yoda
Thanks for taking time to look.
Thanks, but not quite East Texas, I live in what is referred to as North Central Texas. (I'm north of Dallas / Ft. Worth near Denton)
The trail is known as the Pilot Knoll trail that runs along Hickory Creek feeding Lake Lewisville.
Congratutaions!, A few hundred more and you can make a tee shirt.
This was a splendid day last month in the Pacific Northwest.
Towards Mount Eleanor more-or-less from the lower trailhead
Lake Cushman from Mount Eleanor
Mount Washington from Mount Eleanor
Towards Mount Rose from Mount Eleanor (they were sisters, you know)
Yes, well, so anyway, there I was…it was a gorgeous day in October and I’m out for a hike in the Olympic National Forest/Park. There’s a sign-in log and map at the lower trailhead – pretty much standard for a Forest Service Trail. They’ll also usually have any pertinent safety information, such as forest fire prevalence, and in this case – wild animal threats. They had a bunch of pictures of mountain goats tacked up at the trailhead with a warning notice that the goats, while normally placid and unaggressive, had lately been attacking hikers, causing much distress and hiker intestinal spillage on the trail – so, be forewarned.
Off I go, and what a great day it was in the Northwest. They don’t have too many sun-shiny days like that in the fall up there, so lots of folks were out hiking, and while I like solitude in nature, I also like chatting it up with my fellow hikers – come what may. Mount Eleanor isn’t exactly a nature-hike, it’s relatively steep, but none-the-less it’s a walk-up. It’s only 5 or 6 thousand feet in elevation. So I get to the top and there are already a few people up there and they’re all looking off towards Mount Rose, to the West.
I’m not shy. I said, “What’re yous looking at?”
A guy hands me his binos and says, “Look in the clearing down there, a freaking huge grizz snorting around.”
Sure enough. I’ve gotta tell ya, I get a jolt of energy whenever I see a wild animal out there, a survivor, a king of his tiny wild-space. What a rush.
So I’m pumped, I’m floating all the way back down the trail, grinning from ear to ear. I’m almost back to my car when I meet a couple of hikers heading up. She’s a nice-looking lady – 60ish – and he’s clearly her husband. She’s dressed to the nines in her Abercrombie and Finch hiking apparel and I’m starting to feel conscientious about my hiking gear: a pair of Army boots (I don’t know, they just fit me well), some BDU trousers (woodland camo army pants) that I’d cleverly modified into shorts years ago by cutting off the legs just below the cargo pockets with my pocket knife, a T-shirt with a picture of Shemp Howard and the inscription Legalize Shemp, a threadbare fleece jacket (also compliments of Uncle Sam), and a boonie hat.
I’m still working on my nature high and I say, “What a great day for a hike, eh?”
The woman comes at me with this: “Have you been to the top?”
I said, “Well, yeah. It ain’t too bad. It‘ll take you a couple of hours.”
She said, “Did you see any mountain goats?”
I said, “No, I didn’t get to see any. I think there’s too many people up there. They probably scared ‘em all away.”
She said, “Well good.”
It was then that I realized she probably doesn’t travel too far from her Seattle penthouse apartment often.
She said, “Well, what should we do if we see one?”
I said, “I donno, just try to look like a badass, I guess.”
Her husband broke in, “Sweetheart, I know just what to do.”
I said, “Yeah, he knows what to do. Don’t worry about it. It’s a great day. Have fun.”
She said, “Well, okay, but you swear, you didn’t see any mountain goats up there, right?”
I said, “Right.”
And so, we parted ways. I went down the trail, towards my car, and they went up the trail, towards the…
And then, over my shoulder, I said, “You know what, though? There is a big ole grizzly bear up there.”
I never really knew what was meant by the expression, eyes bugged out, until that moment. She said, “What’re we supposed to do when we see the bear?”
I said, “Ah, you know, sometimes you eat the bar, sometimes the bar eats you.”
The husband was bent over, grabbing his knees, squirting tears, and shaking with laughter.
I, meanwhile, headed on down the trail.
Ain’t I a stinkah?
Uhhhh...
You seem to cover a lot of ground my friend; Atlanta to WMWR Oklahoma to the Pacific Northwest.
Magnificent vistas and accopanying story! Thanks for the laugh.
Sancho ~ great photos! Envy you and being there.
sigh..............
kittypaws
Everyone finds himself in the world where he belongs. The essential thing is to have a fixed point from which to check its reality now and then.
Ancient Egyptian Inner Temples
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