I have often wondered about the color differences of a female and a male cardinal. He’s so very flashy and red, he has that black mask and intense expression, he’s showy and casts an air of bravado – she does not. She practically blends into the background. Maybe it’s the lack of eyeliner, but she has a sweet face that seems mostly serene and happy. She almost disappears at times…
Tag Archives: Arkansas
Goldfinch Paparazzi
Does the Friendliness Gene Exist?
Last Summer I wrote about a pair of whitetail fawns growing up in the field beyond the local Elks Lodge. The Lodge sits on one side of a hollow at the base of Pine Mountain, my house is at the top of the mountain, and my road meanders down the side opposite from the Lodge. There is a large whitetail herd and it’s not uncommon to see the same deer at any spot along the mountain.
Over the years I have photographed a doe that is easily recognized by a thin white strip on just above her black nose. She is friendly and curious about me and tolerates me approaching her to take photos. I respect her space and back off if she shows any sign of concern. Last year she had two fawns – one with a black nose and one with a white stripe that had a wide spot in the center. Like it’s momma, the one with the white stripe had no concern about my presence and was actually very curious.
That original doe was one of triplets and was the only one with the white mark. Her sister still stays close and is not at all friendly. She starts snorting almost as soon as I leave my jeep. That friendly doe has had two sets of twins and only one of those has a white stripe and only that one is really friendly like she is. The others have been very cautious and quick to run off. Last year I was lucky to get so close to the friendly fawn on several occasions.

The tail tucked and low like this indicates no sense of alarm. Whitetail use their tails like flags when alarmed – the rest of the herd can spot them in the woods when the have it raised so the white hairs show.
I watched a documentary about the domestication of wolves – the forefathers of dogs. Humans and wolves have always interacted – wolves feeding off of livestock or the trash of people. In a pack of wolves there is usually one or two who are bolder around humans. These wolves are the ones who make friends with humans and by doing so they can secure food and comfort for the pack – they are like ambassadors. Scientists have found that these dogs share a genetic marker and they call it the friendliness gene. This marker is also found in domesticated dogs today.
Not that this has anything to do with whitetail deer, but it got me thinking about why some deer are curious and some are flighty. The deer have no need to befriend me for food. I do find it an interesting coincidence that all of the deer in our small herd who are comfortable and even curious about me and my camera seem to have a similar white stripe on their nose – is it nature or nurture? Does the original doe’s boldness embolden some of her fawns?
Of course winter comes and the whitetail move deep into the hollow. I put my thoughts about this friendly trait away for winter. The deer stay away from the field once hunting season opens and have yet to make an appearance there this year. I have seen a couple on the roadside running into the woods, so they are on the move.
A couple of days ago I saw a deer ahead of me on the road. It didn’t bolt – it just looked my way and walked leisurely into the woods. I pulled up along side and it looked over its shoulder at me…
I stayed in the jeep – opened the passenger window and snapped a few shots. I was taken aback by how long the young whitetail looked at me and at its calm demeanor. And then I saw it…
This was not any yearling, this was my friendly fawn. No wonder it showed no concern for me, it knows me. It survived the winter in the hollow and is now roaming over the hills.
It’s nice to catch up with old friends.
The Bluebirds of Happiness Move Into the Neighborhood
Spring is showing its face at the newly remodeled Stonehouse Buffet and Condos. Potential new tenants are stopping by daily to check out the facilities. The Bluebirds of Happiness are considering moving in…
“This looks promising – I bet we can find something move in ready.”
“I’m not moving into that tin roofed shack. Better find something soon – I’ve already started nesting.”
“No dear, not that place. I don’t want our children raised in an old oil can. I’m talking about the cedar condo down the block.”
“Nice front porch…”
“A brand new roof…”
“I think you should come check this one out…”
“Wow – this place is turn-key – move in ready!”
“Where do you want me to put the couch?”
“Move it over on the other side of the fireplace – no, not in front of the TV! A little more to the left, no the right – can’t you get anything right? The cable guy is going to be here any minute.”
“Next time we’re hiring a mover…”
“I think we are going to be very happy here…”
“I think we will be too – as long as we don’t have to deal with that nosy landlord!”
The Suet Thief
This is Squeegee…
She hates to be photographed. She lives in a constant state of denial. If she does not like something she simply turns her back and the issue no longer exists. She has ignored the very existence of Velcro for about seven years. She’s a snob.
You see, my pack is made up of rejects. Velcro was an older dog when I adopted her. Kirby had shyness issues so the breeder wanted to “place” him with someone who understood terriers. Sunshine is a goldendoodle who was abandoned by his owners along with his litter mates at about 6 weeks. It’s a pretty motley crew except for Squeegee.
Squeegee is a princess. My Pop came for a visit several years ago and fell in love with the young terrier pup I had at the time. He wanted one and they were very expensive where he lived in Vegas, but here in the Ozarks Jack Russell Terriers are hunting dogs, ratters, work dogs. A pedigreed dog can be had for less than a couple hundred dollars – a third of the price in Vegas at the time. So I looked up a couple of breeders and we took a road trip to Jay, Oklahoma to look at some pups. The breeder had 2 available and one was just odd-looking – short nose, barrel chest, wide face – the other was perfectly square, a really beautiful terrier. That dog was Squeegee. Pops asked me which one I thought was the best pick and I told him to get the little square girl – she was perfect. He told me to go get the back of the car ready, he was going to haggle with the breeder over a price. Soon he walked out with both pups in hand – I guess he worked a two-fer deal. Squeegee has been the princess at my place ever since.
A side note – spending your vacation housebreaking three puppies is not very relaxing.
Since the housebreaking phase Squeegee has not been much of a problem except for her disdain of Velcro. She’s a happy dog who barks at deer and chases squirrels. She isn’t much of a hunter, but she does make a lot of noise. She’s the most demanding of my pack and vocalizes a lot to get you to pay attention to her. She rarely gets into things like the trash or messes up anything in the house, so it surprised me to find out that she was a thief.
She hangs out on the patio when I fill the bird feeders and now I know why…

If I can just get around this tree trunk and fake lizard on three legs, I think I can get it all before I’m caught…

What suet? I don’t see any suet. I’m just hanging out here on this fence post minding my own business.
She may look innocent, but if you are missing suet you know who’s behind it.
Frosty Gaze
This morning’s frost caught my eye, so while waiting for my Jeep to warm up enough to defrost the windshield I decided to get out my camera. My Leica macro lens was calling to me. Since I’m surrounded by woods, I made my way down my drive to the road – it was a little like driving in braille. The sunlight at the road made it all worth the risk.
I found the frost to be filled with images that were almost familiar…
This is exactly why I take my camera everywhere I go – you never know what wonders you will encounter doing the most mundane things like warming up the car.
These are a Few of My Favorite Things
You know the song.
Since Thanksgiving you’ve heard it a hundred times. Listening to the lyrics it’s not explicitly about Christmas, but it is from a movie we watch during the holidays. The list in the song is not my list. I’m not big on whiskers – I prefer the rest of the kitten. I don’t think I need mittens when using a kettle – it’s all a bit disjointed. Lyrically it’s genius – in practical use it’s not my cup of tea.
So what would my list be? I decided for my 100th post to share the list of things that inspire me behind the lens.
Raindrops on…
Anything.
I’m not so much into bright copper kettles, but I am fascinated with…
Rust.

This padlock was on the jail in Midas Nevada. The lock spoke to me more than the shack it was attached to.
I don’t even know what schnitzel is – it sounds odd to me. I know it’s odd to love…
Dandelions.
I grew up in the desert so the idea of sleigh bells is foreign to me, but door bells make me think of home. I have a strong bent towards…
Sentiment and Kitsch.

I love kitsch and I love it unusual places. I have had lawn flamingoes in the front lawn of every home I have ever owned.

My Grandma taught me about purple glass, I love to shoot things that are transparent and have color.

My great-grandfather carved this out of a peach pit. I love the surfaces of handmade things like this.
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes. I like snow, but not so much for its photographic opportunities. I prefer…
Spring Flowers

Hyacinths – My garden fairy planted a few of these a couple of years ago in a spot were there was once a cistern. I love them.
Cream colored ponies and dogs biting. I’m not too far off here. I love the company of…
Dogs.

Sunshine is my Goldendoodle. He’s a lovely goofball and is a bit camera-shy, I like to catch him when he is unaware of me.

These are my brother’s pointers – I shot this one Christmas when Vegas had a rare snow. I loved the sheer joy the pups exuded as they ran in the frosted desert.

These are my two female terriers. They hate each other’s guts unless they are sleeping – they are precious when they sleep.

This is a pup I met on a trip – I love that he was interested in my camera. Curiosity is a favorite thing to capture in an animal.
Brown paper packages, blue satin sashes, silver white winters – there’s a lot of color in this song. I love color and am drawn to vivid colors. One color draws me more than all the others.
I shoot anything that is…
Orange.

These Tiger Lilies grow wild around the Ozarks. I have them pretty thick in the spring – right at the edge of the woods.
Now that winter is here and it’s a grey day, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel so … bad.
The Boys are Back – a Third Chance for Elk in Arkansas
At the dawn of the 19th century, settlers in Arkansas found themselves in a land of amazing biodiversity. Vast herds of elk roamed the hills and hollows of the Ozarks. Those settlers saw the ancient forests as expendable resources. They harvested the timber and exported it to their neighbors to the north and they hunted the great eastern elk into extinction. By 1840 there were no elk left in the Ozarks.
For almost a century the sound of the bugle was gone from the meadows along the Buffalo River. In 1933 11 Rocky Mountain Elk were transplanted to Arkansas. They thrived in the same meadows where they had lived since before the coming of the white man. The Wapiti were once again roaming in those ancient meadows. Those 11 transplanted elk grew into a sustainable herd of over 200 animals.
By 1955 the elk had completely disappeared once again. The destruction of their habitat and poaching lead to the complete devastation of the restored herd.
In 1981 the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission attempted a second restoration. Over the next 4 years 112 elk were gradually transplanted into Newton County along the banks of the Buffalo.
Today a healthy and monitored herd of over 500 populate 5 counties. Almost a hundred live in the Boxley Valley alone.
Here are some shots I took this weekend of bulls in Boxley Valley, near the Buffalo River.

This is George – at least that’s what I call him. I have seen him in this same spot before. His antlers are a bit crooked, but they look better than they did last year. Bulls shed their antlers every winter so this years growth looks a bit more symmetrical that they were when I saw him last. He also is a bit knock kneed on his rear legs. He seems to like it here in front of the creek. He grazes and poses for the early morning photogs and spotters who fill the valley. From the look of his antlers I would guess that he is 3-4 years old.

This is a great old fellow. He is simply enormous, but he seems to lack the bulk of a younger bull. Most bulls live about 6 years, the oldest known bull in Arkansas was 15. Their antlers start to decline in size around 10 or 12 years of age, so I’m guessing he’s somewhere north of 10.

He’s over 5 feet tall at the shoulders so the depth of the grass in this meadow is pretty amazing, almost like it was designed to feed animals of this size.

He had three females in his harem. The cow behind him had wandered off so he circled around her and guided her back to a safe spot near the treeline.

This is a pair of youngsters I spotted alongside the road. They have the antlers of a 2-year-old. Spindly without definite points. They were off alone away from the females – bachelors. Elk are very social and males like this tend to live in small groups away from the cows and calves.

This isn’t a great shot – it was into the sun and a pretty far distance off, but I include it to show the size of a bull towards the end of his prime. I got the chance to hear him bugle for the ladies in the meadow about a quarter-mile away.
It’s good to see bulls of all ages in the herd. Some of the cows have tracking collars and great care is taken to prevent poaching. The herds placement was established with the assistance of the locals, so they are not seen as pests, but rather as a part of the environment.
It looks like the Natural State got it right this time, third time’s a charm.
Boys Will be Boys – The Youngsters at Boxley Put on a Show

This morning I got up bright and early – 4:30am – to head over to the Boxley Valley near the Buffalo River. A friend and I decided to make a run over to see if we could get a look at some elk. We arrived at the valley right before sunrise and began to scout out locations. We saw a pair grazing in a roadside ditch. It was still just a bit to dark to get any good photos so I parked my jeep about a 100 feet away and hiked towards the pair of young bulls. As cars passed by, I just hoped they would stay close until the sun came up. One at a time they wandered across the road, over a fence, and down into a meadow. I thought for sure that we had missed out, but hiked over towards the spot where I had seen them leap over. From the roadbed I was actually above the meadow and got a chance to see them both clearly visible above the wall of foliage along the fence.
The most amazing thing happened next. They carefully, even gently, began to spar with each other. There was no crash of antlers or huffed snorts, it was more of a quiet ballet.

Occasionally the pair would stop, and look our way. Then they would look back at each other and continue the dance.

Dodge, thrust, parry, block – and then another glance, perhaps to see if we were still watching.

Back and forth, round and round, stop and glance – this went on for about 20 minutes.

Then they were finished, the show was over, time to take a bow.

They both headed off towards the cover of the woods.

The first bull went on through, the second lingered, almost like taking a curtain call.
I photographed lots of elk today, but I was most enchanted by the young bulls I spotted before sunrise. I’m not sure what they were doing, were they practicing for a future rut? Were they raised together in a nursery group? Did they see my camera and decide to put on a show? Either way it was worth it, now I think I’ll go take a nap.
My Box of Ozarks Crayons
An Ozark Spring starts with plentiful rains followed by waves of colors – vivid and saturated like a box of crayons. Forsythias, red buds, dogwoods, violets, daffodils….on and on from late March through August.
Like much of the south, the Ozarks are under pretty extreme drought conditions this year. The season started well and just stopped in mid May. Except for some roadside chicory, the color is all but gone. The field grasses are yellow, the earth is crunchy. I miss my crayons….
I know that the drought, like all things, will pass. The colors will be back.
































































































