Lone scissortail flycatcher in heavy fog

Along Midwest Boulevard near Spencer, OK

Cows, fog, a windmill and an Okie sunrise

It's normally pitch dark on my drive by this spot each morning.  But on this day I skipped the gym, headed in to work a bit later than usual, and was rewarded with a beautiful scene.  (As though I need another reason to skip the gym!)

I climbed out of my truck to take the picture and for a few minutes, I soaked in the perfect scene and sounds of silence.

Oak trees and sun rays near Lake Arcadia

Technically these sun rays are actually called 'crepuscular rays.'  Whatever the case, I love them.  The conditions have to be just right to work.  They can happen anywhere there is enough particulate in the atmosphere to reflect the sun's light while contrasting with the background. Another interesting geek fact is that although they appear to converge quickly to a point, they are actually essentially parallel like railroad tracks.

The large white oak in the first pic is one of my favorites in our backyard due to the general lack of small branches up and down its trunk. The last pictures almost looks if it was taken underwater.

One other side note is that I made these images with my cell phone and edited them in Sagelight, only adjusting for contrast.

A little Frost in an Arizona snow

The poetry is below. I included it here partly because it describes exactly how I often feel in my travels but mostly because I want to impress my bride who has a degree in English. :)

While it was 80 degrees in OKC, these were the scenes 3 weeks ago near Payson, AZ, in the Sitgreaves National Forest. The last picture is the state highway just outside the forest and leading up to Holbrook, AZ.

The area is quite remote and the forest service roads back into the woods, more so  In fact, try as I might, I couldn't hear....anything. It was dead silent and it was magnificent! When was the last time you heard absolutely nothing - not a clock ticking, a refrigerator running, or a car passing by?

I'm no poetry analyst, but some have surmised that the subject in the poem is taking in his great scene, fully tempted to stay longer.  Painfully aware of all the obligations that awaits him at his destination, he knows the moment must be brief because obligations await and many hours stand between him and his next rest.



Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Eve

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.


Robert Frost

Into the Grey

Early one morn off Rt 66 in Missouri. This one was my fav of the lot.

A few more below...The last two pictures are of the same tree and I was there for a while before I realized there were deer a little further past.