Rock Candy?

With the clear sky last night, and temps dropping into the teens, we had a wonderfully hard frost by morning. The ice crystals on this grass were close to a quarter inch long (you should be able to click on the photo for a close-up of those crystals). And every hardwood sapling was fuzzy with frost - they all looked like staghorn sumac (which, if you don't know, has a velvety fuzz along all its branches and twigs). If I see that again, I'll try to get pics.

Starry, Starry Night

It was a brisk 27 degrees Fahrenheit last night, according to my car's thermometer, as I stood out on the golf course trying to capture the night sky with my camera. It was about 9:30, and I was there until about 10:30. Not prime time to witness the Leonids (20-30/hour? Hardly.), but I did see about five. The camera didn't see any. My goal, however, was not the Leonids, but the stars en masse, because the night sky in the Adirondacks is breathtakingly beautiful. This proved to be easier said than done.

First, how do you focus when the only thing you see through the lens/viewfinder is pitch darkness? It took a few false starts to get that wrinkle ironed out.

Then, how do you get enough light to actually show up the stars? After about half an hour of highly questionable success, I figured my best bet was to set the camera for a faster ISO. So, I went from 200 to 800 to 1600 to 2600. Suddenly, stars were appearing in the images. Woo-hoo!

This here is the Milkyway.

The next wrinkle is going to be a bit more difficult to tackle. Y'see, the stars move. Okay, technically the Earth is moving, but for all intents and purposes, from our viewpoint, it's the stars. And even though we can stare and stare at the stars and never see them budge, the camera's eye is more sensitive, and those stars might as well be fidgety kids. Not a single photo came out with nice, crisp stars. I think the answer is going to be to jack the ISO to its most sensitive setting, and take shots with the fastest possible shutter speed. Yep - this means another night on the golf course. This time, however, I will bring a hat, coat and mittens.


There she is, the Big Dipper, Ursa Major, the Quillwork Girl and her Seven Brothers. This was looking northward, towards Lake Placid. Now, from where I was standing, any glow from LP was hidden by the trees, and even when I have a clear line in that direction (as much as you can in Newcomb), the glow isn't really all that noticeable. Sure, you can make out LP, and Saranac Lake, Tupper Lake and Long Lake, but for the most part they are usually only faint, almost foggy, lights close to the horizon. Well...not to the camera. Why, you'd almost think there was a forest fire on the way!

Alrighty then. Tonight I will have all the time in the world. No chorus practice, no yoga class, no quilters' meetings. I'll feed everyone (dog, cat, boss's birds, me), walk the dog, and then load the camera and tripod into the car. And this time I think I will head out to the 8th fairway, away from all the lights (I didn't feel up to it last night). That should make the sky just a wee bit darker, and perhaps the stars will show up even better. Ooo - the fifth would be even better. Maybe I'll take a headlamp along...

Nose Art

Being the proud adoptive parent of a pound pup, whom I take from place to place in my car, I am quite familiar with Canine Nose Art, which graces most of the glass surfaces in said car.

So, this afternoon I was checking out the action at our bird feeders and noticed this on the windows by the platform feeders:

Considering the previously mentioned "gift" left on the feeders last night, I suspect this is Raccoon Nose Art.

Replacement Parts

Last week a raccoon ate one of our birdfeeders for a late-night snack because someone forgot to bring the feeders in after work (cough, cough). So, the guilty party went out and purchased a new feeder from Wild Birds Unlimited.

Now, the feeders at WBU are not cheap, but they do come with a lifetime guarantee, so if they break, or a raccoon eats them, they will replace them.

I always get carried away at WBU. Oops! Did I say "I"? UM...I meant, the person who had to replace the feeder out of a sense of guilt tends to get carried away in the WBU shop. Said person not only got a new feeder, but also a new feeder pole system, complete with bird finial and an extra hook for adding a suet feeder later in the season.


It didn't take long for the birds to come in for goodies:

Lots of red-breasted nuthatches were darting about, grabbing seeds.

But the little buggers are so nervous that it was well-nigh impossible to get a photo of them that wasn't all blurry!

Another visitor came along, eager to score some sunflower seeds, only to pull up short when it spotted me.

Well, my presence couldn't go unremarked.

Here's the wind-up:

And the pitch:

I was soundly scolded and let know on no uncertain terms that I was in the way and if I knew what was good for me I would vacate the area ASAP.

Oops!

Well, it looks like the Leonids were peaking THIS morning, not Thursday morning. Needless to say, I was snuggled in my toasty warm bed with the dog and the cat at 4 AM, so I didn't see them. Maybe I'll take a gander outside tonight.

However, our maintenance man was telling me this morning that he was out looking for them around 2 and 3 AM, and he didn't see anything.

Meanwhile, there is a rumor of a plane crashing on Santanoni Mt. last night (which is one of the High Peaks really close to Newcomb). Both Mr. Mike and I recall hearing a helicopter last night, so that might've been the search and rescue folks. I'm off to see what I can find out on-line.

Leonid Meteor Show(er)

If you are feeling curious or are simply suffering from insomnia, you might want to get up Tuesday at 4 AM and step outside to watch the Leonid Meteor Shower. It will be in the western sky, in the contellation, you guessed it, Leo.

Like the Perseids in August, this is an annual event. Some years these shows are spectacular, with the sky seeming to rain with stars, while other years you stand there scanning the sky and thinking "Okay...where are they...I'm waiting..."

Maybe by then I'll have figured out night-time photography with the new digital and I will get up (ha) and carry camera and tripod to the golf course (the only place where I can get a streetlight-free view) for some shots. Don't hold your breath, but hey, you never know.

Birdfeeder Musings

As I was walking towards the building this morning when I got to work, I watched a chickadee or two noisily fly over the building towards the back deck. It was at this moment I said to myself, "Self, did you bring in the feeders last night?"

I entered the building and glanced towards the back door. I didn't see the feeder on the hook, so perhaps I did.

Then I saw it.

There on the floor of the deck, a feeder port ripped out, the base pulled partially off, and a chunck missing from the plastic tube, were the battered remains of one of our tube feeders. A raccoon must've gotten it.

The other feeder was empty, too, but it was still in one piece and on its hook.

Chickadees called from nearby trees and shrubs, wondering where the food was.

I gathered up the pieces and upon examination determined it wasn't salvagable. Reluctantly I tossed it in the trash. I filled the remaining feeder and scattered seed on the two platforms, and the birds (chickadees, red- and white-breasted nuthatches, and blue jays) immediately came in to feast.

I guess I will add "birdfeeder" to my shopping list for this weekend.

The moral of the story is: bring your feeders in at night.

Now at home I don't worry too much about raccoons (two of my poles have raccoon guards on them and are placed far enough from trees that raccoons shouldn't be able to reach them). Bears, on the other hand, have a record at my house, having bent over feeder poles, dismantled squirrel-proof feeders (hey, it wasn't marketed as bear-proof), and even running off with feeders into the woods. I haven't had problems since the fence went up and the dog has been around, but I'm sure it is only a matter of time. Every night I go to bed without bringing in the feeders leaves me worrying that I probably should've done so. Every noise outside, then, becomes a potential bear on the prowl.