When we first moved into this house, there were no trees in the backyard. Today there are eleven, all of which arrived as saplings aboard a 1973 Volkswagen bus. In addition to the trees are half a dozen shrubs, which were planted in holes dug hither and yon by my canine landscape architect Tippy.
First to be planted was an emerald queen maple. My young son Alex helped with the planting and watering, and today whenever I look at that maple, im’s reminded of how much both tree and boy have grown over the years.
Meantime, my entire backyard has become something of an aviary. When I was younger, I didn’t much notice birds, but today, they’re pretty much all I ever think about. Here, for instance, is a Cassin’s finch clinging to a red bud stem just outside my office door. Nearby perches a colorful goldfinch, awaiting its turn at the drinking fountain.
Finches are tiny birds, but huge compared to hummingbirds, and because hummingbirds are so tiny and flighty, they are damn near impossible to photograph. So what you have to do is pre-focus on a twig small enough for it to grasp onto, and then wait until the bird alights. When it does, you refocus on the bird’s eyeball and press the shutter. Bingo!
Later today I’m thinking I may hop in my car and venture forth in search of even more elusive game. In today’s newspaper, for instance, I read that Senator Orrin Hatch has been sighted—speaking at a gathering of a local conservative think tank. Where he is at this moment is anyone’s guess, since the migratory patterns of Republican congressmen during August recess remain by and large a mystery. Used to be, they showed up at town halls and public hearings, but no more. So I’m thinking banding them with ankle monitors until such time as they can be removed from office might be a good idea.