Ducky flies to Peru

We found Ducky abandoned on a picnic table in a campground near Alamosa, Colorado. That was the trip that was nearly ruined by millions of caterpillars falling from the aspens they were denuding. The same trip we saw hundreds of unrelated swallowtails wallowing in mud along the road.

Ducky was just sitting there. That’s his thing. You know his kind well. Perhaps, New Mexicans feel a stronger connection to his kind thanks to Bosque del Apache, or, more likely, the Deming Duck Race.

Since he joined the pack, Ducky has ridden on the dash of our truck. He accompanies us on the mundane daily trips and the longer escapes we live for. This is why I impulsively grabbed him to take to Peru.

I admit that I considered Ducky might fill the roll of the sock monkey and other peripatetic icons dotting photos on the Web. He might add some whimsy, I hoped. Early on, I was very self-conscious about pulling him out and posing him. I don’t mind being affected or eccentric, but I’m not that into him at home. He’s just along for the ride. By putting him in the frame, I brought him into our group, most of whom looked at me indulgently, at first.

These are the best photos of Ducky in Peru, from departure to return. I couldn’t photograph my favorite moment involving Ducky. As we passed through airport security in Cusco, I pulled Ducky out of my pocket at the last moment and put him on top of a pile of other items. I loved seeing the faces of the security personnel soften as they looked from Ducky to each other and smiled. The world craves more whimsy.

Ducky on his way to Peru
Ducky on his way to Peru.

I love you, man!
I love you, man!

The joy of birding.

On the Madre de Dios river in Manu, Peru
On the Madre de Dios river, Manu, Peru.

Watching macaws
Watching macaws.

Cloudburst and sunny smile
Cloudburst and sunny smile

Cloudburst and sunny smile. I was delighted when Melissa Wilson reached for Ducky. Seize the whimsy! The rain ruined one of our best birding  opportunities, yet gave me more joy than I can say.

long journey home

You can go home again. It just takes forever.

Most of my blog entries regarding the trip are on Ah, Wilderness! Follow this link to 170 photos from the 2 week journey.

This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) By Talking Heads

Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb – burn with a weak heart
(So I) guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It’s o.k. I know nothing’s wrong, nothing

Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you’re standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up and say goodnight, say goodnight

Home, is where I want to be
But I guess I’m already there
I come home, she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place
I can’t tell one from another
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time Before we were born
If someone asks, this is where I’ll be, where I’ll be

Hi yo we drift in and out
Hi yo sing into my mouth
Out of all those kinds of people
You got a face with a view
I’m just an animal looking for a home
Share the same space for a minute or two
And you love me till my heart stops
Love me till I’m dead
Eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head

Songwriters: BYRNE, DAVID/WEYMOUTH, TINA/HARRISON, JERRY/FRANTZ, CHRISTOPHER
© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
For non-commercial use only.
Data from: LyricFind

—–

One of my favorite Talking Heads tunes. “I love the passing of time. …. Love me till my heart stops / love me till I’m dead.”

surface

Your body is an ocean.
Deep below,
under crushing pressure,
a volcanic fissure spits fire
and bloody light reveals
monsters writhing in mortal combat,
while miles above,
your fleeting smile
is a sailboat
on stalled waters.

12/11/08 2am
[Previously published on: Apr 5, 2013 @ 02:00 ]

Cock of the Rock, the national bird of Peru

All photos: Copyright (c) 2015 by Mark Justice Hinton. All Rights Reserved.

Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru

First photo of male Cock of the Rock (above)

I first heard of the Cock of the Rock years ago, after Merri led an impromptu expedition in Ecuador in search of the bird described as both showy and shy.

Last November, we were riding in a van for hours along miles of dirt road that skirt an edge of the Manu jungle region of Peru. Much of that day consisted of riding, stopping, getting out, standing by the road to look for birds while other vehicles roared pass. As we slowed for a turn before crossing a beautiful wide stream, the first Cock of the Rock male I’d ever seen landed on a branch, perhaps not 6 feet from my window (photo above). Snap! Be ready for your opportunities.

(The first female Cock of the Rock I saw was barely visible on a nest in shadow under an overhang above the Urubamba river in Aguas Caliente, near Machu Picchu. Dave Mehlman and I were wandering when a bus driver asked, “have you seen the Cock of the Rock on the nest?” Well, no actually.)

To me, the Cock of the Rock is simultaneously beautiful and ugly. The shape of the head defies logic. Look closely for the beak barely protruding from the feathers. The stark eyes are fish-like, or like the eyes pasted on stuffed animals. Yet the power of the intense red contrasting with the dapper grey and black is undeniable.

The next day, our group drove to a roadside viewing area adjacent to a lek, the competitive breeding grounds for Cocks of the Rock. Plastic tarps formed a wall to minimize dust and noise from passing vehicles. A local guardian kept the key to a locked gate that blocked the steep steps down to a narrow uneven path a dozen paces to a viewing stand, not a blind, but a rickety porch without other attachment, directly behind the plastic tarps. This viewing area looked down a hill that was dense jungle.

At the worst time, more than a dozen people jostled quietly on this platform for a chance to see and photograph one of the half a dozen or so Cocks of the Rock, mostly showy males. Viewing was very challenging through the tangle, though it’s easy to scan green for brilliant red. The loud sore-throat croak of the males also helps you find them.

Photographs required manual focus. There were just too many points to distract autofocus, but automatic exposure settings worked fine. Though the jungle was dim, these birds don’t move very fast.

Eventually, the flock of birders moved on, leaving just 3 of us to watch longer. During this time, the birds moved closer, still not as close as that first bird. It was a delightful moment.

Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru
Cock of the Rock males in Manu, Peru

More photos from Peru (about 170)

All photos: Copyright (c) 2015 by Mark Justice Hinton. All Rights Reserved.

Gun logic

If I didn’t find the public voice of gun ownership so bellicose and arrogant and self-serving, I’d feel sorry for people who are so sure they are in constant danger that they must have a gun for comfort. Or for people who are so limited in entertainment options that they must have a gun for fun. Or for people who are so enamored of killing animals, they have to have a gun. Saddest and most frightening are those who believe the only reason they are free is because of guns. I’d feel sorry for them, if I weren’t disgusted and tired of the bullshit.

If you ever wade through the arguments presented by pro-gun commenters, you’ll distill their arguments along these lines:

Any object can be used to hurt or kill someone: screwdriver, hammer, car, gun. Therefore, no rules can apply to a gun that don’t make sense applied to any other object. Do you really want to register screwdrivers? If you do, only criminals will have screwdrivers. (Just to be clear: rules that do apply to potentially deadly objects like cars CANNOT apply to guns.)

No object is mentioned in the Second Amendment other than guns. There is no ambiguity in that amendment: it emphatically states everyone can have any gun. Therefore, guns are the one object we can’t “restrain.” The Second Amendment trumps all others, except for free speech, and you better have a gun when you exercise that. Gun ownership is an inalienable right. (Freedom from violence is not. However, the only way to be free from violence is to own a gun.)

No object can be used for self-defense like a gun. Not a baseball bat, not a knife, not a fist. Therefore, nothing is a better defense than having a gun. Efforts to control gun violence are a literal attack on people and intended to tie them up so the bad guys win. Why do you hate freedom?

Guns are fun. Guns are traditional. Guns build character. Guns do more good than harm. Guns do no harm at all. If you don’t have a gun, you’re not entitled to an opinion (rather, your opinion is wrong).

No one is responsible for accidental death involving a gun. Not the gun owner. Not the guy who made money selling the gun owner the gun (without safety lock / cabinet or training) and the bullets (armor-piercing — it’s his right!). Not the industry that grows fat on blood. Not the politicians they own. Not the rabble they rouse for their endless profit. After all, it could have happened with a can opener. Do you really want to outlaw can openers?

I tell gun owners no one is going to take their gun away. I agree to what I can about data. Then, I ask: what can we do about gun violence. Most answer with more of the above “logic.” Some mention “mental health.” Are you willing to pay a tax on gun-related sales for mental health services?

Golden years

Like many of us, I’m sad to learn of David Bowie’s death. He was a rock star before that concept became trivial. He moved us, inspired us, shocked us, delighted us. There will never be another like him.

Take a moment to consider that today thousands, more likely millions, of people will die. Few will have been rock stars but most will be mourned by loved ones who will experience that depth of grief that ultimately unites us all, the real price of love. Most of us never get over that grief completely.

Live. Love. Move. Be kind, be open, be patient. Take care of each other. Stop hating something. Death is more absolute and unending than we can comprehend. Now is our time. Peace.

"It does not require a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority keen to set brush fires in people's minds." — Sam Adams