Sandhill Crane
The Sandhill Cranes returned to Northeastern California late this Winter. I have been fortunate enough to see them on several occasions.
A lone crane feeding at Poison Lake.
Sandhill Cranes
Poison Lake
Cranes with friends.
Which way do we go?
Solitude
Ruffled feathers
I think Big Bird must have been a crane.
Poison Lake
Sandhill Cranes of Ash Creek Wildlife Area.
Meet Buddy, The Wayward Wolverine
Buddy The Wayward Wolverine is based on the real life lone wolverine living in California. Nobody knows how he got here. He is related to the wolverines of the Sawtooth Mountains of Idaho. This is the fantastical tale of Buddy’s journey. Written by Maryᴀ Livingston, The Backdoor Artist, and Amanda Shufelberger, the main Buddy biologist. Illustrated by yours truly the Forester Artist.
We will be at a book signing at the Whole Earth and Watershed Festival, in Redding, California at City Hall on Saturday, April 27th from 10am to 4pm. Come down to the Red Tail Publishing booth if you are in the area.
Buddy The Wayward Wolverine is also available at REDTAIL.COM.
An artist’s thoughts are often very personal in the creation of art. When another artist had me and my family in their thoughts, I wondered what will this piece of art speak to me. This painting speaks of a memory. A memory of time spent together with one I loved.
These were just a few of our precious moments…
With Burney Mountain in the background, Nellie strikes a lovely pose. She is one of my favorite models. Nellie is very co-operative and will work for dog biscuits.
.
Blitz steals a stick from her mom.
Snow dog Nellie.
Redtail’s Nitro Nellie just being “Boopie”
Mary and Tom dog visiting Nellie at the Vet’s office after the snake bite. She was one sick pup, but it sure perked her up seeing us.
Our oldest son, Chris with his girl Nellie. This was their last pheasant season.
Nellie
The morning ritual, ” Hey I need some attention here!”
The big stick contest. Blitz and Nellie
Nellie in her youth at Iron Canyon Reservoir.
God got a good dog today. We are grateful for the time we had together.
These were some posts that featured Nellie.
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/09/17/nellie-in-watercolor-part-1/
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/09/23/nellie-in-watercolor-part-2/
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/10/06/nellie-in-watercolor-part-3/
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/10/08/nellie-in-watercolor-part-4/
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/11/23/nellie-in-watercolor-part-5-the-rattler/
Every logging operation needs a log loader and there are all types of them. This pen and ink is of a Barnhart log loader from back in the railroad logging days. It was a big steam-powered loader for loading big logs.
The Barnhart Log Loader
Here are some of today’s loaders.
The heel-boom loader is today’s log loading staple. It is also referred to as a shovel by the loggers.
The front-end loader was the standard for years, but is still common in the woods.
The logging truck hauls the trailer, also known as a log dolly, in a piggy-back configuration. Here the front-end loader unloads the log dolly.
The self-loading logging truck has its own loader built-in.
I thought it was odd that the operator lowered the hood when he loaded his truck. I assumed it may be running hot. However, when he finished loading the truck, he went over to the engine compartment and pulled out a stick, which caused the engine to throttle down. He had wedged the stick into the throttle to keep the engine revved up while he was running the loader. He then put the stick in the tool box and said, “I gotta put it up here or the dog will run off with it!” Good thing I left Blitz in the truck.
In this picture, they used a front-end loader to assist the self-loader. Normally they use the self-loaders when another loader isn’t available.
This old green beast of a front-end loader was barely running, which is why they were using the self-loader. These were two weary old machines.
Blitz is seriously wanting the throttle stick right now.
If you have not read Mary’s latest installment of what is going on in our backyard, here it is. We have new arrivals!
Happy Hatching!!
Est. hatch date range: sometime April 15-17. Empty shell pieces indicates hatched chicks. the parent is hovering over chick(s). Sorry no images of the chicks, just the empty shells for now. But here is something for you –
Save 15% on No Place for UGLY Birds!
Edit your cart with discount code: 15hatch
Happy Hatching discount code good through 4-22-13.
I saw an osprey do the strangest thing the other day. I was driving from the log yard to the pole yard and I saw one of the osprey go into an aggressive dive. Located between the two yards is a canal. I naturally assumed that the osprey was going after a fish in the canal. I drove closer and pulled over to get some shots of the action.
Osprey wheeling around
It was an excellent chance to shoot the osprey. Lately they have been sitting on the eggs and hanging out at the tower. Not a lot of opportunity to get any interesting pictures.
The osprey on approach.
As I started taking pictures, the osprey wheeled around to come in for another swoop. With his sights set on target he banked for the dive.
Gettin’ his dive on!
Then, the osprey did something unexpected! Instead of diving into the canal the osprey dove into an open area. It was fast and low, beautiful to watch. Osprey are fish eaters and to my knowledge they don’t catch rodents. So what was he doing?
Coming in low and fast, but for what!
Up close and personal!
Then, he did the osprey snatch. The osprey grabbed a stringy piece of cedar bark. Bark, why bark? He flew about ten feet and dropped the bark. It all seemed quite purposeful.
The snatch and fly! The osprey with the bark in his talons.
Then the osprey circle back around and headed out.
Coming around again.
He did manage to give me a dirty look as he did his fly by.
Gettin’ the stink eye. I suppose that’s better than the other end.
I’m left with the question, what was the osprey doing? Was he looking for material for the nest? I don’t think so, because they haven’t worked on the nest for weeks and the eggs have been laid. Did he think the bark was an animal? I doubt it and I think they only eat fish. Was he practicing or playing? Maybe, why wouldn’t a well fed osprey engage in a little fun.
Do any of you good folks have any ideas as to what the osprey was doing? I would love to hear your theory.
This is a post from our yard by the Backdoor Artist. I held the ladder while Mary captured this great image of one of our resident turkey vultures.
Peering down the vulture hole, I am amazed at the ability of the turkey vultures to climb in and out of this nesting location. It is fourteen feet from the opening to the base.
It is unclear whether this brooding vulture is on eggs or new chicks. It should be nearing time for the eggs to hatch, if my calculations are correct. On March 5th & 6th , I recorded the pair breeding at the entrance and the female retreating inside the nesting cavity. I am making an educated guess that this was around the time of laying their eggs. Most sources site 34-40 days incubation. Sources are vague on the day count, but in all fairness who counts days for vultures hatching? The UStream Missouri turkey vultures incubated for 34 days in 2012.
Both parents incubate the eggs and share in raising the chicks. I do not…
View original post 49 more words
I’ve known Bob for a long time. Bob is a Logging Supervisor or Woods Boss. His operations are a going concern. Bob is all business and his guys make logs in a hurry. When I go out and talk to his crew about log quality Bob gets nervous because I’m slowing down his operation. He isn’t the kind of man that one would think of as going around showing off a piece of art, but that is what he has done for nearly twenty years.
Bob’s landing, whackin’ and stackin’ .
Twenty years ago Bob decided he needed a dog. When he got his new dog he told me, “All of you foresters have dogs in the back of your trucks, so I decided to get one for my truck.” If you have ever seen the back of a logging boss’s truck you would know that his dog would need chemical resistant feet and armor plating. Their trucks are full of hydraulic fluid, oil, truck parts, tractor parts, chokers, cable, tools, and all manner of oily, heavy metal things bouncing around loose in the bed. So Bob’s dog was special….unique even
Meet Would, Bob’s dog.
Bob’s dog is named “Would”, not Wood even though he is wood. If you ask him why “Would”, he will say, “He would bark if he could and he would s–t if he could, therefore he is Would.” Bob recently got a new work truck and when he didn’t put Would in the truck he caught so much hell that he had to load him up again. Would has been Bob’s constant woods companion for the last twenty years. He never whines, growls or barks. He doesn’t need food or water and doesn’t mind all the stuff in the back of Bob’s truck. I think Would has mellowed over the years, even developed a fine patina. He may be the perfect logger’s dog.
The forester’s dog and the logger’s dog.
I had Blitz join Would for a group shot. The two of the got on famously. Blitz is, after all, the consummate stick dog. Fortunately, she didn’t chew on his ear. I tried to get Bob in the picture, but tough old loggers don’t always like having their pictures taken.
This painting for me is more than a picture of a beautiful rooster pheasant. It is me trying to express the essence of something in my life that is significant.
This painting has been on the board a long time. It is destined for my office. Oddly, I’ve never hung any of my art in my office. I guess it is about time.
Blitz joyfully returns with a bird.
Pheasant season ended a few weeks ago. It is a time when our dogs get to live their bliss, as Mary is so fond of putting it, living-bliss. I’ve re-blogged her post, because it is also about the dogs doing what they are born to do. They are working dogs and hunting is their work. They are happiest when they are working. What they do is written in their DNA.
Teka can’t wait for her turn. She stakes out my truck.
I suppose the same is true for me. If I was plopped down in the American West 200 years ago I think I would have been perfectly happy. Engaging in hunting with dogs, friends and family keeps me connected to my roots and more primitive self.
Teka was born to hunt birds.
Teka delivers a pheasant to her person, Doug.
Dogs are pack animals and pheasant hunting helps them live their pack experience. The difference is that we are now their pack, but the satisfaction to them is the same.
Teka relishes bringing the bird to Doug and receiving his appreciation.
If I didn’t have bird dogs I probably wouldn’t bird hunt. The pleasure they bring to it is what makes it complete. These dogs have such heart in what they do. Hunting without them would be like dancing alone.
Blitz on a water retrieve.
Procuring food is such a basic human activity. By acquiring food myself, I appreciate the meal much more. To spend the time hunting and experiencing the joy of success with my partners makes me think about what our hunter gatherer ancestors did on a daily basis. Then to have to go through the process of cleaning and preparing this food, it puts me very in touch with the reality of what was given.
Blitz is happiest while doing her work.
When I hold the pheasant in my hand that I just killed and Blitz just fetched, I experience a blend of feelings. There is joy in the success and satisfaction of providing this meal to my family. There is appreciation for the beauty and for what this creature lost, it’s life. That leaves me with some sadness, but it is the reality of life. It causes me to not take meat in the grocery store for granted.
Blitz has a lively pheasant.
The time out in the field away from the day to day activities is a welcome break to go enjoy a more primal experience. There are things all around to be noticed that add to the richness of this time spent.
Canadian Geese hiding in the grass.
This time means so much when spent with family.
My oldest son, Chris with his girl Nellie. This will be her last pheasant season.
My sons and Nellie.
This is also a time for me to remember my old loyal hunting partners from years past. The ones that gave me so many fond memories. Last year was Hawk’s last season only we didn’t know it at the time. He should have had many more pheasants to retrieve. We miss him very much. Mary posted about him a while back, Her Papa’s Eyes.
Hawk during his last pheasant season. An old hunting partner remembered.
THE FORESTER ARTIST 