Okay, the first one is not a butterfly. It is a clear-winged moth. Continue reading
nature
Photo Phrenzy, Part #2: Butterflies and Caterpillars
A Minute and a Half on an August Eve, Complete with Rises
Sometimes, the best thing to do is go sit on a dock.
Seven Photos
Away From It All
“Quill Gordon! Come out from under there, you fool!” said my old friend, Milt Audette. “Hiding from Marge Feely again? Very unbecoming, you know. You’re in serious danger of compromising your standing with me, hiding under the porch from a seventy year-old woman.”
“Oh, yeah?” I countered. “Concealment is a dying art. It’s a manly art. Like that time you got burned, hiding behind your furnace at home.”
“I was hiding from my wife. That’s different. What has gotten into you?” Continue reading
Summertime Blues
There was a day six months ago that made me wish for a day, six months hence, that would essentially be its opposite. Today is that day.
I will remind myself, six months from now, to not be so melodramatic. I will shut up and eat my pancakes and my pancakes will taste like summer.
If a Tree Falls …
(I like to make a little list each morning, of things I would like to accomplish over the course of the day. Sometimes those lists don’t last very long.)
If a tree falls in the forest — certain parts of the forest, anyway — I don’t know if it makes a sound or not but it’s a pretty good bet I’m going to be cleaning it up. The sky over Fish in a Barrel Pond turned ominous on Thursday afternoon, unleashing heavy rain, hail, and damaging winds.
Nothing at all like the destructive weather experienced in other places recently, this storm none the less left its mark.
Of Mayflies and Trout
It’s not often I am the only person on the pond.
When someone complains about the fishing and I say, “You should have been here on Tuesday!” they think I’m kidding or don’t believe me. Hatches of mayflies can come off as a mere trickle of bugs being chased by a couple of trout or the water can erupt with fish as a blizzard of faeries fills the air. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, the hatch will end and an angler passing by five minutes later won’t know it even happened.
This evening, I was right on time. Continue reading
If You Think a Mouse in a Bag of Chips Makes Noise …
A mouse can make a pretty good living in the camps scattered along the shores of Fish in a Barrel pond. Toaster crumbs alone will support a surprising number of rodents but when you add open bags of chips and peanuts, puddles of grease on the stove and spilled cereal on top of the refrigerator, entire colonies can spring up, seemingly overnight.

Some members of the Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society will adopt a mouse in their camp, as a mascot of sorts, leaving treats on the mantle and laughing with delight when their furry little friend descends the stone face of the chimney, grabs a Cheetos™ and scurries back up through a hole in the ceiling. Those folks marvel at how quickly the mouse returns for another load, forgetting that mice pretty much all look the same and that what they are seeing is really a multi-generational assault, with mouse after mouse lined up above the ceiling like paratroopers in a plane. Continue reading
















