Photo Page 0203

These images are from the month of February, 2003. Looking over the ones I chose for this page, I see there is a sort of theme here with the unconscious search for warm colors in the chill accents of winter.

	When I saw this scene, I immediately wanted to photograph it, but bitterly regretted the pole and wires that litter this scene, and our lives in general. When we do hurried work, and need to jerry-rig something to get the job done, we often make a mess like this, but what excuse do we have to continue the practice when we could do better? The only explanation I can think of is we have permanently adopted a hurried, "gotta keep going" attitude. To the argument that to put lines underground would be too expensive, I answer that if it were seen as necessary from early on, our ingenuity would have chopped the price to a reasonable one by now.



	So, I worked on the image to get rid of the junk. Ahh, that's better...



	The amaryllis flowers that were photographed in the depth of winter have been shown on another photo page, but even the flower stems are interesting and beautiful.



	The hawk had chosen a particular tree as one of the home bases that I checked out in each photo excursion. Later, some nearby construction bothered the hawk, and the tree was abandoned. The lack of leaves allowed me to get a few close shots. Here is the hawk from the back. None of my bird books show quite this pattern on a hawk.



	People can appreciate the grace and beauty of this bird, though I doubt if the pigeons think much of it. The teardrop pattern on some of the feathers is particularly fine.



	The color has mostly been frozen out of this scene by wintry weather. The atmosphere is full of snow and the tree-covered mountains, so richly green in summer, are dressed in pale shades of gray.



	This statue is of a person with national fame, at least among historians of the Civil War era. But statues, like plants, must just stand there no matter what is going on in the environment. It isn't hard to imagine an air of regret on the part of this statue.



	The snowfall got serious in February and filled in the courthouse steps and drifted over the bases of these great pillars. For a while the world was quieter and more intimate and a delight to look upon.



	In the park, the ducks glided among snow covered firs in a transcendent floating world that seemed even more apart from the bustling world of man than usual.



	This little fellow -- a Green Winged Teal -- is rare in the park and a welcome visitor indeed.



	Clouds parted briefly just before sunset, to tint the waters gold and red around the dabbling mallard drake.



	As the early dusk settles over the park, the lights come on and give warmth to an otherwise chilly scene.



	Earlier, much of the area seemed drawn in shades of gray, but paradoxically the evening revealed some subtle hues.



	There's light and then there's light. The yellow-orange light of the lamp is the same as the primitive man's firelight and it speaks of safety and warmth. Here, all around it is cold light of a winter evening.



	The reflection of the lamp gives no warmth; the blue winter light rules the scene. The only warmth is the life held snug inside the feathers of the drake.