Tuesday, June 4, 2013

I've got ramblin' OF the mind...


Which is a little play on words on that legendary blues piece, most notably and hauntingly played by…… (figure it out)

Anyway the weekend is over and while I don’t have a lot to offer I do have some off the wall ramblings when there isn't any foodie news to speak of..

Worst hour(s) of the day

As I sit down to write this it (was) approaching what I consider to be one of the worst hours of the day:  the hour (that seems to take days) between five and six.  And I don’t care which letter comes before the “m”, both are awful.  Chronologically we’ll start with the “a” portion. 

I’m sure you don’t have this problem, being healthy well adjusted people.  My night is usually fitful at best, with demons (I’m sure they are related to the ones who inhabit the light at Millstone/235) flying through my brain, magnifying any little nagging concern into a life altering fear.  To ward them off somewhat I have a little battery powered radio with a pillow speaker that I listen to.  Programming ranges from talk shows like “Coast to Coast AM” , rife with conspiracy theorists, alien abductees, reincarnation folk, and so on.  They still hotly debate things like Roswell, and the Kennedy assassination.  Some are entertaining, some not.  Other choices are sports talk shows, reliable old WTOP, and very occasionally music.  The vagaries of reception sometimes force the selection.  Anyway, at five o’clock in the morning, “live” programming ceases: one of the local sports stations goes into an hour of the “Sports Junkies” that was recorded anywhere from two weeks to two years ago, and if it isn’t live I don’t listen.  Or our ESPN radio continues with its “Sports Center All Night” which is a compendium of sound bites from all the sports centers, which they repeat over and over.  Ditto don’t listen.  WTOP, which stays live, gets repetitive.  So there I am half awake, nothing to divert my attention, and these days to make matters worse, the rising sun begins to pound on the windows of the digs.  After an eternity, six o’clock comes along and things go back to “live” broadcasting.  At that point I suffer maybe twenty minutes of “Mike and Mike” the pair on ESPN who talk about (depending on season) the last NFL/NBA game, and manage take longer to yak about it that it takes to play the game.  Plus Golic is a high priest of Notre Dame. Golf? Baseball? Hockey?  They may get a mention if there was a fight or bad call.

Whew, I got carried away there!  Sorry.  Okay that’s why I hate 5 to 6 in the morning.

Five to six in the evening is much simpler.   Our evening cocktail hour begins at six or a bit later, and although “it is five o’clock somewhere” is famous, it does push it a bit for us.  So I spend that hour developing a thirst and clock watching.  Five o’clock News is usually kind of vapid, saving the “best” news for six, and don’t get me started on that buffoon Pat Collins..

So there you have my nomination for the worst hour(s) of the day.

Music in the Sky (?)

The other night, after six o’clock, we were enjoying cocktails on the back porch when I gazed across the water and over the Solomons appeared this cloud formation (I think aided by contrails – or maybe “chemtrails” for those midnight radio folk).



 
If you don't think to hard, does it not remind you a little bit of a Treble Clef?  If it does not, have a cocktail and look again.

Fliers of the Sky

I saw a posting on a bird listserv the other day about a Peregrine Falcon who had built a nest under the Solomons Bridge and the possibility of a chick.  Peregrines may be slowly returning to this location.   The person who posted is a friend who suffers me to help him bird occasionally, and he was kind enough to give me directions on finding the nest on the northern side of the bridge, nearer Calvert County.  So Sunday I loaded up my scope, bins, camera in the back of the MOMSTER II and headed across the bridge.  Local folk will know that on the Solomons side under the foot of the bridge, there is a boat launch facility, largely used by fishermen.  It being Sunday afternoon in Rockfish season, the parking lot was pretty full of pickups with trailers, some who already launched and others who were waiting with their boats on trailers in the “staging area”.  The parking there is geared toward those vehicles and in fact the huge majority or parking places are marked with “Vehicles with Trailers Only”.  There are a few that are not so marked, mostly under the bridge supports where the rigs can’t fit.  I had to take a couple of turns around the lot, being very carefully monitored by the czar of the boat launch since I had no trailer and was obviously not a member of the clan.  So finally I found a spot at the far end of the lot where I felt law abiding enough to park.  I wanted to do a recon of the area before getting out the scope, so I put the binoculars around my neck and took off for the vantage point.  Well, that meant I had to parade past all the fishermen waiting to launch their boats.  Most were hard core fishing boats, bristling with rods with those fluorescent green things, you’ve seen them.  The captains of the vessels were sort of hanging together, some smoking and telling fish stories, a lot with cami clothing on, their war torn ball caps, real men of the sea (well, river).  So here was this guy with shorts and black socks, binoculars around his neck parading by.  Have you ever felt stares burning into you?   Anyway I nonchalantly went to a little by the foot of the bridge, scanned the bridge and found the nest, but couldn’t discern any occupants.  Okay, time for (sigh) the scope..  back through the gauntlet, get out the scope,  parade by the speechless anglers again.

I finally set up an observation site near a picnic table and trained the scope on the nest, and really couldn’t see anybody home.  I spent about 20 minutes waiting to see movement, and nothing.  Eventually I saw a little “lump” just outside the nest, near one of the supports, but the wind was such that it caused the scope to jitter at high magnification so I couldn’t get a real good look.  Finally I decided it wasn’t alive as it didn’t move.  At that point I gave up, and went back again to the car for the camera.  I have a loaner 100 – 400mm big boy lens so thought I would try a shot.  One more time past the boys, this time with a very expensive looking lens and camera.  I was glad I couldn’t hear any conversation.  I took a couple of documentation shots of the nest, went through the gauntlet for the last time and came home.

Much to my surprise, when I downloaded the images and “zoomed” in, the “lump” was not where I saw it first by the support right by the nest, but was further under the bridge (to the left of the pipe, you might have to look hard).




So although it still isn’t clear, it could be the little Peregrine, whom I shall now call “Lumpy”.  We'll keep and eye out for them

Another Passing

Although I did not know him I just heard that “Charlie” of Charlie’s Deli has served his last customer and passed recently.  Too Bad.  Another reason to be

DFD

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