A Few Vague & Random Thoughts On The State Of Things

by John Dill

I think what I miss most about "the good old days" is that more things stayed the same longer back then. Now things change overnight without notice.

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We didn't have apps in the good old days, no Google search either. We had phone books and Rand McNally maps. We didn't have surprise charges on our bank accounts from apps or programs that we had forgotten that we downloaded a year ago. We had actual monthly bills in the mail back then. We paid our bills with a check, not Apple Pay. We mailed things. We dealt with companies that had phone numbers. Now we deal with companies that hide their phone numbers if they have phones at all - all communications are through the app that we haven't downloaded yet. 


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Towards the end of the good old days, passwords were finally invented, but we only needed one, usually the name of our dog or cat. The new password was for a new contraption called an ATM. We paid with cash a lot back in the good old days. Now we buy 5 dollar coffee drinks from a drive up window using Apple Pay.

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In the new era of today, we have dozens of passwords and we are constantly getting locked out of one service or the other because we can't remember our own password even though we are the ones who created it. When we finally reach someone who can help us reset our password the rules have changed. Now our password has to be "between 9 and 12 characters long, with at least two numbers and two symbols" and before the password will work they have to send us a text message with a number we have to type into the app we are trying to use to authenticate that it's actually us. Sometimes we have to check a box to prove that we are not a robot. We now have dozens of passwords that we keep stored in our computer somewhere and it requires a password to have access to our passwords.

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We used to have actual calendars, but we now have electronic calendar organizers on our cell phones that connect all of our activities up in the cloud somewhere.


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The cloud, that's another thing. The cloud? Really? If my dad came back to life today, how would I tell him his checking account was in the cloud?


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When we talk to someone who is trying to schedule us for an appointment, we have to write the information down on a piece of paper because the electronic calendar organizer thingy is an app in our cell phone which is the device we are talking on. After we write it down on a piece of paper, we hang up, and then open our electronic calendar and place our appointment in our phone. I tried to swipe my iPhone to get to my calendar app while talking to someone on the phone one day, and I apparently swiped a little too hard and hung up on the guy who I had been on hold with trying to reset my password for an hour! 


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Also in the good old days we didn't have pet medical insurance. I just thought I would mention that. Back then a virus was something our doctor diagnosed rather than an unwanted program running in the background of our computer collecting all our data including our lists of passwords. And here's another thing; keyboards were for typewriters back then. We used carbon paper to make two copies of a typed document instead of selecting the multiple print option on our printer, the same printer that always gives us an "out or ink" message after we hit print. Then when we go to purchase new print cartridges (which are more expensive than the printer itself) the cashier asks us if we are a customer loyalty club member? If we want to sign up and get points they will require that we give them our email address so they can join the parade of other email spammers that have caused us to create multiple new email accounts because our old email accounts have been rendered useless by businesses sending us scads of advertising because we signed up for loyalty points. And half of our email accounts that we have we are locked out of anyway because we can't remember our passwords.

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When our cars stopped working in the good old days the mechanic replaced the plugs, points and condenser, and that usually fixed the problem. But now he hooks up a computer diagnostics tool, which requires a password, to scan our car and hopefully diagnose the problem. In the old days when we told someone we had 9 windows open it meant that it was a hot summer day outside. Now it's an expression of being totally overwhelmed with our modern day living, or we actually do have nine windows open. Also, Spam was was a thing for dinner in the good old days. In the old days everyone ran for the phone when it rang, but now people run from the phone yelling "just let it go to messages!" Either that or people just turn the ringer off. As a reminder, there was no ringer off switch in the good old days. Nowadays there is a 90 percent chance the call is from India from a guy wanting us to extend our extended warrantee. 
Yes, you read that right. Extend our extended warrantee that we extended last year and forgot we did. Now we have an extension on the extension. But don’t worry; you can change that in the app - the one with the password you can't remember.

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In these modern times we have to program a computer to operate a pressure cooker or to sew a hem. How did sewing machines and pressure cookers get computers, or for that matter a tooth brush? Back in the good old days our newspapers were delivered to the end of our driveways, but now our newspapers are online, but nobody even reads the online version because everyone knows that all newspapers contain fake news; the real news is on TikTok.

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And also in the good old days coffee was a nickel with unlimited refills, and the only thing you could find online back then was the laundry which was hanging ON an actual LINE in the back yard. 


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I'm trying to think of some other things that we didn't have back in the good old days. I wonder if people had Attention Deficit Disorder back then.

The End

My Tesla Saves The Day

Tesla Saves The Day

Recently, a car just like mine crashed in Texas killing the two occupants. The crash was blamed on the car and its self driving technology. It was some of the worst reporting I have ever seen. Later, it was found that the car that crashed did not even have Full Self Driving capability. When the guy bought the car, he didn't pay the extra money for it. But, allow me to tell a short story about something that happened to me yesterday. 

While driving north on I-505 about 20 miles out of Vacaville, CA, I became intimately familiar with one of the many safety features of my 2019 Tesla Model S, a car exactly like the one in Texas with one exception: My car does have Full Self Driving capability. Everything was operating normally. I was following some cars in front of me traveling at about 70 mph, and I was in the right hand lane of the freeway. The weather was nice and that stretch of road is really pretty boring. And then without notice, I woke up. You read that correctly. I had fallen totally asleep. I'm not talking about dozing off or nodding at the wheel. I was asleep. I heard the "wake up" alarm and opened my eyes, and I found that I was still following the car in front of me at the proper distance, and that my car had slowed down to 55 mph to maintain a proper following distance between me and the car in front of me. I was still in my lane. Autopilot had saved me from a very bad accident. 

Here's what would have happened if I didn't wake up, or if I had suffered a heart attack and died: Had I not awakened, my car would have turned on the emergency flashers and pulled off onto the shoulder of the road and placed itself in park. It would have then called 911. It would do all of this while avoiding possible conflicting traffic. 

I can't remember the last time that I had a hard time staying awake while driving. In this case, the previous day and night had been exceedingly stressful, and it all just caught up with me on that long boring stretch of concrete. I think that this kind of technology is going to be the future. It's not perfect yet, and certain features of Full Self Driving are still not activated within the Tesla package. But it has some very good features that are available now. 

What did I do next? I drove to the next off-ramp, pulled over, and took a 30 minute nap. After that I drove to the nearest Starbucks. 

 

Is This Really The Same Woman Who:

1. Grew up in Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Phoenix, Arizona?

2. Worked in an aircraft factory in World War II?

3. Gathered the neighbor kids for my back yard fifth birthday party?

4. Took me to the beech to get sand for my sand box?

5. Took me with her to get our first little puppy?

6. Made bologna sandwiches for me in kindergarten?

7. Watched me toboggan down a hill, and over a jump, in the snow?

8. Took me to special reading classes because I had difficulty reading?

9. Took me to the doctor for my constant tonsillitis?

10. Shared her country wisdom with me?

11. Packed me a lunch when I rode my bike 50 miles round trip to Irvine Park when I was only twelve?

12. Cooked me lunch and dinner every day?

13. Drove us all around town in a World War II Jeep as her only transportation for years?

14. Along with my dad, provided such wonderful Christmas and holiday memories?

15. Taught me all the old stories of her family, thus giving me the meaning and anchor of family?

16. Told me about the war, her contribution, my dad's contribution, and her family’s sad sacrifice at Manila in the Philippines in February of 1945?

17. Took me to church every Sunday?

18. Told me how important it was to learn how to type? (And she was so right about this too)

19. THIS NEXT ONE IS BIG: She never gave up on me even when I gave up on myself?

20. Was so proud of me for graduating from college?

21. Was so proud of me when I became an airline pilot?

22. Was so proud of me becoming a father?

23. Traveled with me to Arkansas when she was getting quite old. We went there to see the grave of her lost grandfather after I had located in a remote cemetery in the woods of the Southern Ozark mountains.

24. Came to watch my daughter’s softball games?

25. Was always someone I could talk to?

26. Had such a wonderful sense of humor?

When I visited my mother during the last six years of her life, and I would speak to her through her frequent confusion and deafness, I asked myself all of the above questions, and many more. I still do. She was my mom, Martha Ford Dill, and I feel that I did not do nearly as much for her as she did for me. About a year before my mom passed away, I drove to Southern California from my home near Redding, CA. I talked to the woman you see in this photo about her life, past and present. During this one conversation, perhaps lasting two hours, my mom was laser focused. She was not 93 anymore; more like 43. For this one day, her mind had flown into the clear blue sky of lucidity, and I was blessed to be there for the occasion. My mother told me about something I had never heard before. She told me with complete clarity of mind about the time she had accidentally cut the tip of her finger off when she was only about four years old. She showed me her finger. I had never known, nor noticed, my mom's missing fingertip in all my life. How is it possible that I did not know this? After slicing her fingertip off, her father took her into town on horseback to see a doctor. He even took the severed fingertip with him. My mom remembered every detail!

We talked about so many things, and I kicked myself for not videotaping the conversation. But it's all a memory now. I prefer to remember this occasion and the way my mom looked, and her clarity of mind, on this day. It wasn't her last day, but perhaps her best day during those last six declining years. And one last thing: My mother was not afraid of death at all. She was always ready. When my brother called me to deliver the news, I was genuinely happy. I knew my mom was home.

The Dark Side of Social Media - Most people would claim that they don't have time for investigative journalism. But when you think about it, investigative journalists really perform a service for us. They look up the material, and hopefully present it in a digestible form. It saves us a lot of work and time.

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But...

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Enter social media. It is perfectly natural for the human mind to become distracted. In fact, it is evolutionarily advantageous for us to be easily distracted by sounds and sights. A distraction can become an awareness of something very dangerous in our midst. Actually paying attention, on the other hand, is much more challenging.

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Nowadays, tech companies have learned how to exploit distraction. Cleverly, they have engineered algorithms that spot distraction, and then they feed us similar content. They want to know what attracts our attention. Over time, a computer profile becomes more and more clear (to the computer) and we are fed content that we truly believe is what we want to see. It's all automatic.

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Fully 70 percent of all content on Facebook and Youtube is generated by an algorithm to attract our attention. Eventually, we become siloed into a content world that we believe is truly our own. We do not suspect that it has been custom created for us. We, in fact, base our world view on much of this content.

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Investigative journalism requires reading, and most people won't even watch a short video on Facebook. People must move on to the next distraction. Pretty soon, investigative journalism (the good stuff) gets lost in the chaff of borderline content. The lines become blurred, and the next distraction arrives.

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Example: A woman who is newly pregnant and starts a search for how to make homemade baby food might see a suggestion on the right hand side of her YouTube feed for a video which turns out to be an anti vax video. It has been found that new mothers might also be interested in vaccine information. Pretty soon she goes down the anti vax rabbit hole and she's fed other conspiracy videos, chemtrails, and eventually Qanon.

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Politically left or right, it works the same way. We used to have a generally accepted world view in America. There were liberals and conservatives, but we could always sit down and have dinner together. We now have five or ten different world views, maybe more. Over a decade or two we have become very entrenched in our own little bunkers, and a willingness to even consider other points of view seem ludicrous. It's why we have trump, but it's also why we have defund the police.

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One must be aware that their social media feeds (Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, and others) exist to create profiles on individuals like us, and they also exist to keep you online to the maximum extent possible. You and I are the product being sold to companies that increasingly use targeted advertising. If you search for something on Amazon, you will later see ads on Facebook for similar products. Almost all apps and social media services are interlinked. The unforeseen side effect is the hyper polarization of America, and much of the free world. Social media exists to sell your profile to advertisers and to increase your time on social media. Many people check their cellphones and other devices 100 times per day, and they don't even know it.

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This is a critical problem. It is tearing apart the fabric of our social compact, and the structure of free societies.

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Awareness is not even half the battle. But I would suspect that most people are not even aware that they are being played like this. It's a big problem, and I don't have the solution.

The Story of Mettle Rose

The Story 

of 

Mettle Rose

The first part of this is from a note I wrote several years ago. It has to do with how we acquired Mettle Rose. I have added an addendum to the original note to bring it up to date. Then I added a second addendum. So in essence, when you read this you are reading something that I wrote at three different times over the years. Thank you everyone for your interest in Mettle Rose. 

From November 23, 2009

Most of you know that I recently acquired a new Border collie puppy whom I have named Dart. Dart is a long story, and this is not a story about him. Rather, it is a story about Merle and Sandi Newton and another dog, a Border Collie named Mettle.

My friends Merle and Sandi Newton run the Crystal Rose Cow Dog College, an eight hundred acre ranch west of Red Bluff, CA. Merle was privileged enough a year and a half ago to get the pick of a litter from two champion Border Collie bloodlines. Merle is no slouch when it comes to recognizing good Border Collies – he has trained literally thousands of dogs. His pick was a little puppy he named Mettle, a little female. He named her Mettle to infuse into her that spirit, the spirit of strength under adversity, the very definition of the word Mettle. 

Merle began training Mettle just as soon as it was appropriate. He begins training very early, within just a couple of weeks of birth. He nurtured that dog, raising her at his ranch. Mettle grew, showing tremendous talent, brains and that wonderful Border Collie instinct to herd and please. 

At the six-month mark, she underwent intensive herding training. Then again at the one-year mark, she underwent even more intensive training. But remember, she lived with Merle and Sandi on the ranch, so she was actually in training every day in the ways of ranch life.

Mettle quickly learned whistle commands, verbal commands, and body language. In addition to being smart, she was a natural. Then came the day when she graduated from sheep to cattle. Cattle, of course, are much more intimidating. Mettle showed her mettle in every way but one: if a steer turned to face her, to challenge her, she backed down. No matter how much Merle tried, she was just too intimidated by the steer’s size to accept the challenge, to take control.

This obviously severely limited her ability to compete in cattle competition, and consequently her value in dollars. As much as Merle loved her, he runs a business. He was raising the dog to be a working dog on a cattle ranch for a good rancher who might be willing to pay good money for her.

So, the Newtons were saddled with a tough decision: make her a pet (of which they already have many), or sell her to someone as a sheep dog. She was a great sheep dog! She would not cower if challenged by a sheep. 

Then, just at that time, a lady came along who was looking for a sheep dog. At the time, it seemed like a perfect fit and the sale was made. They said goodbye to Mettle as they had done so many times in the past with other working dogs they had trained and become attached to. Because of Mettle’s limitations, she fetched a mere $1000, instead of approximately $10,000 if she had not been cattle shy.

Months later, the Newtons received a call. It was the lady who had bought Mettle. The lady wanted to return the dog. It was not working out between them. The Newtons have a thirty-day guarantee, and the woman called right at the end of that grace period. The lady wanted to have just a little more time to see if things would work out between them, and the Newtons agreed to give her a little more time. 

FIVE MONTHS LATER, the lady called again. It was still not working out between her and Mettle. Mettle, it seemed, had begun to refuse to eat. She had lost a lot of weight. Even though Merle and Sandi could not really afford to buy Mettle back (and according their contract, they certainly did not have to), they did so for $1,000, the same price they had sold her for. 

They drove out to the woman’s property, several hours away, only to find that Mettle was on the verge of death. She had almost no muscle mass, much less any fat stores. She had lost two thirds of her body weight. She could not even stand up because she was so weak. Merle placed her into the back of the pick-up, afraid that her bones might break in the process. He would not allow Sandi to see Mettle. Sandi informed me that that was probably a good decision on Merle's part. When Sandi finally saw Mettle, she was very angered. 

Obviously, after having Mettle back at the Crystal Rose ranch, and observing her eating, it became clear that Mettle had suffered something horrendous at the hands of this woman. She had been severely neglected if not outright abused. A highly trained, ultra intelligent, in every way but one she was a champion border collie, taken away and abused. The Newtons told me that when they rescued her, she was less than five days from death.

Merle and Sandi have had Mettle for a few weeks now, and she has gained back enough weight to work sheep again, just a little. We watched her. What a smart dog. She is still not very strong, but her spirit remains unbroken. She didn’t have the mettle to stand her ground with a large cow, but she had the mettle to survive. 

I met Mettle today. She needed a good home and I fell in love with her. She is one of the most affectionate dogs I have ever known, typical Border collie. She is still very skinny, but she has gained enough weight that she has gone into heat for the first time in her life. Because she is in heat, the Newtons are keeping her as a favor to me until after Thanksgiving, when I will deliver my male dog Dart to them for one month of intensive training. At that time, I will take Mettle home. I will have photos of this very special dog soon. 

Addendum One

The past five years have been very special years for us. Mettle Rose has traveled to Southern California many times, and to Northern Idaho once. She was the perfect hotel dog. During our travels, Mettle would go with us to visit elderly people. She was always a perfect lady, relaxed and well behaved. She would shake hands with people, something so simple yet so uplifting for an old person stuck in a home. 

One time, she was able to get an elderly lady to talk for the first time in two years. She had been completely silent, and then when she saw Mettle she just began talking out of the blue. The nurses were astounded. A man named Jerry, who was dying of cancer, asked to see her. When he saw her, Mettle put her front paws up on his bed. He began sobbing uncontrollably as he stroked Mettle's fur. We found out two days later that Jerry died the next day.

Mettle Rose was more than a companion; she was a member of our family. Never was a blessing bestowed on two people so great as being intrusted with Mettle Rose. We always felt fortunate to have her, even knowing she was not fully well. Whatever afflicted her at that woman's property never abated. Still, Mettle learned to catch frisbees, and to play with our other animals. She could herd sheep very well, and cattle reasonably well. 

Mettle Rose had a very loving home during the past five years. Honestly, truly. 

Addendum Two
January 24, 2014 - Today

Our Mettle Rose passed away yesterday afternoon at 4:45. She never really recovered fully from whatever "got her" earlier in life. Slowly, over the five years we had her, she just never fully recovered. She gained some weight, and she would have her good days. For a while, almost all of her days were good days. Many, many good days, as a matter of fact. But, it was always a battle getting her to gain weight. 

Recently, her medical problems became worse. We took her to the vet, and blood tests were taken that showed the possibility of liver disease. We then took her to U.C. Davis Veterinary Hospital in Davis, CA. They repeated some tests, and at first we were mildly optimistic. However, over the past month or two she began to get progressively worse. Finally, we had to do something. There was no definitive way to tell what was going on without a surgical biopsy. Unfortunately, that's a drastic step. The sort of biopsy procedure she needed was radical. She needed to be opened up. We would not have exposed her to this procedure without very careful consideration. We knew the risks. 

Upon examination, it appeared that she had very advanced liver disease, possibly liver cancer. Mettle survived the procedure, and she fought heroically for most of the afternoon yesterday. We went to see her twice. But finally she just couldn't go on. She died at 4:45. 

Because liver biopsies were taken during the procedure, we will finally get some answers in a few days. Liver cancer can be caused by toxins, but there is no real way to tell at this point what exactly happened. There are literally a dozen or more things that could have caused her liver disease. Because we had the sample, and because Mettle Rose gave her life in the process, we want to know what those samples show. We have paid the extra cost to have the lab work done.

Final Addendum

The liver biopsy came back as not conclusive. We have many unanswered questions. Why did U.C. Davis drag their feet and fail to perform a low invasive biopsy, when our vet in Cottonwood called them and clearly indicated her desire for that procedure. Because of U.C. Davis' failures, our vet, we, were left with only one option: The very invasive biopsy. Chances are that the low invasive biopsy would have told us that Mettle would not survive long. She would have survived the low invasive biopsy though, and we could have had her painlessly put to sleep a few days later when her condition deteriorated. Instead, she underwent a drastic surgical procedure, and she was not able to recover from that. When we saw her after her surgery, she was clearly in pain and suffering. Our vet assured me that Mettle was not in pain, but I don't really believe that. We feel very "let down" by U.C. Davis, and to some degree the veterinary decisions that were made at our own vet's office. We were blinded by our love for our dog, so it was partly our fault. All I can say is that we did the best that we could. 

Many of you, especially if you've taken the time to read this entire missive, know the pain that comes with loss. It's not easy. Mettle Rose was dearly loved, and she will be very missed. Thank you all who have enjoyed reading about her over the years. If you met her, you knew what a special girl she was. Every life is precious. Love while you are here. 

The Journey

We awaken with no memory of past lives, our tiny minds a fresh new slate upon which we will write our life story. We are hardwired from birth to behave the way babies do, to suck, to cry, to sense the presence of a warm and caring human. In an optimal world, we later become more familiar with these caring humans and call them mom and dad. We seem to instinctively know that our well-being is totally in their hands, and we are totally dependent.

We see things from behind very unique eyes, our eyes, nobody else’s eyes. "Who is that entity behind my eyes?" we ask ourselves. "Why do I call this entity me?" We have an awareness of self. We seem to want to know the answer to these ageless questions. We are told stories about the world, and those stories are given names like Little Red Riding Hood, and Humpty Dumpty. We begin slowly to learn about good and bad, and we experience others our own age – brothers and sisters, cousins, and eventually other children. We learn that fair play isn't always fair.

Along the way, we learn about rules. We learn that if we break the rules we disappoint our parents we have grown to love. We might even arouse their anger and experience their punishment. As children, we compare our home experiences with other children’s home experiences. At some point we begin to question the infallibility of our parents. We begin to test the boundaries of our own individuality. We go to school, and we test the boundaries even more. Soon, we begin to learn that not all learning comes from older adults, but it also comes from our schoolyard piers. We begin to believe in a form of our own smartness. We become aware of an entire world outside of our family, and we begin to desire that world. We begin to desire independence.

All of this comes, in time, with growing up as a human being. At some point, we begin to think of our future. We begin to plan for a family of our own, a carrier. Or, in some cases we plan to not plan at all. We decide that our own particular style is better suited to just taking each day, one day at a time. Either approach can work, and either approach can fail. Instinctively we know that planning usually yields better results. We begin to feel stress that has thus far been unknown to us. 

After some formal education, and a little job experience, we step out on our own. We discover a significant person along the way, we fall in love, and begin the parenthood phase – most of us do, but not all. We become “responsible” adults, join the PTA, plan for family vacations, dance recitals, Little League games, Football games, and all the things families do. Our marriages are strained for most of us, but we learn to put in the effort to “make it happen.” For some of us, the stress becomes too much and we lose our marriages for various reasons. At this point, we begin a new relationship with our children, one in which we are usually blamed for our foibles and faults. Is the blame justified? Who knows. We've gotten to the point that we don't even know the answer to that. We begin to question almost everything we thought to be true.

Along this journey, some of us begin to take drugs like Prozac, and some of us begin to lean on alcohol and tobacco. Oh yes, we played with substances earlier in life, but we didn't need them as we do now. We know it’s wrong, but we do it anyway. The church we used to attend, we no longer do. We have developed a mistrust of organized religions. Some of us become atheists while others become Buddhists. Some of us eventually rediscover our traditional religious roots. But we also begin to realize that our life has been a life of questions: What are we here for? What is our purpose? We develop what many call a midlife crisis, but we believe we are too good for something like that. So we suffer in silence refusing to admit that we are not happy. We feel stuck.

At some point, we find something new. It can be a new relationship, or a new spiritual path. Either way, we begin to find a form of higher happiness and a new passion. We begin to realize that we used to make everything so much more difficult than it needed to be when we were young. We realize that our happiness comes from within, not from the world “out there.” We no longer value the number of friends we have, but instead the quality of friends that we have.  

Our kids have children of their own now, and we see the cycle we lived being repeated over again by them, mistakes and all. We are wise enough to know that we have to allow them to make their mistakes. All we can do is be supportive. After all, they still blame us for so much, but they are also beginning to realize that blaming us is wrong. Just as you forgave your parents, eventually they will forgive you.

We began to realize that we were getting old several years ago, but we haven't admitted it until very recently. We begin to "be okay" with getting old. Our pleasures are simpler now, and we take pleasure in seeing youth, and its arrogance, on display all around us. When we see youth on display, we see ourselves years ago.

We drive slower and safer. We worry about having enough money so that our kids won't have to worry about us. We worry about our prescriptions. We value a fire in the fireplace, and a dog on the floor. We love silence. Our music is different.

We have always known about death, but we were not prepared for it so soon. We have always envisioned being very old when it comes. So, when we first realized that death would come sooner rather than later, we were naturally surprised and just a little frightened too. Most of us will find a place to put our own demise, and to face it bravely with dignity. In the end, death brings with it its own anesthetic somehow, and when we climb aboard that train, it is a welcomed departure. We are free to continue our journey down that long track to a place none of us has ever successfully described to another living human being. In a timeless moment repeated throughout eternity, we will awaken with no memory of past lives, our tiny minds a fresh new slate upon which we will write our life story.  

An Evening Photograph

So I was sitting on a convenient granite rock. It was the perfect size of rock to make a good chair. My camera was adjusted, leveled, and focused on a Green Heron. I've taken several pictures of Green Herons, but I'm trying to get a better one. There's an old saying in photography when it comes to shooting wildlife: There's no substitute for getting closer. 

I have a telephoto lens, but this evening I was able to get quite close to this particular Heron - closer than I have in the past. I was concentrating on getting the focus. Whenever I shoot telephoto, the slightest movement (even a breeze) can introduce motion blur. I really wanted to get a crisp picture. I was trying to be very quiet and still. I had to be very careful with every move I made 'lest I scare the bird away.

Okay, let's leave me there for a moment. You probably visualize me wearing camouflage clothing somewhere in the wilds of Northern California. Wrong. I was in a trailer park in Shasta Lake City. It's a retirement community near my home, and there are two ponds there with ducks and geese. As I have found, there are also lots of other birds and animals. It is perfect for photography. There are shorebirds, waterfowl, fly catchers, hawks, even otters. When I go there to take pictures, I really try hard to not disturb the birds and animals there. 

So, jumping back to my photographic opportunity, this little Heron saw a fish near the shore and he was getting ready to catch him. My finger was on the shutter release button. Just then I heard a jarring sound, tromping down a small hill with a barking dog, one of the trailer park's older residents calling out to me saying: "I'm a nature photographer too! What kind of lens do you have there? What are you taking a picture of, a frog?" 

I responded as politely as I could that I was taking pictures of birds, but not anymore. The Heron had flown up into a tree, and it was now well hidden. I must admit that I was a bit miffed to say the least. But then it dawned on me that I was in this man's trailer park. He lived there, not me. He didn't disturb my peace on purpose. So I calmly explained to him what I was doing, and in a short while he and his dog walked away. 

As it turned out, the Heron returned in a short while. After all, he had to eat. He wasn't going to give up easily. In the end, I got some pictures and the Heron got a fish. And I didn't lose my temper, for which I am very grateful. We have to learn to cut people some slack occasionally. I'm happy about how everything turned out.

Here is one of the pictures I took of the Heron. 

Click Photo to Enlarge