Category Archives: animals

Images of Our Natural World

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Capturing the Wonder of our Natural World

Yesterday was Nature Photography Day, a celebration for anyone who loves the outdoors and the art of capturing it. Whether your passion is wildlife, landscapes, or the quiet little moments in between, it’s a day to honor the beauty of our natural world.

The North American Nature Photography Association (NANPA) established the day in 2009 to encourage people to enjoy, appreciate, and photograph nature in all its forms.

I began nature photography as my hobby a number of years ago. Here are some of my earlier efforts.  I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed being out there taking them.

White‑tailed deer with velvet antlers standing in lush green meadow, nature photography

White Tail Deer (South Dakota)

Grand Canyon (Arizona)

Prickly Pear Cactus (Arizona)

Great Blue Heron (Massachusetts)

Painted Desert (Arizona)

Water Lily (Massachusetts)

Queechee Gorge (Vermont)

Moonrise (Florida)

Trumpeter Swan (Massachusetts)

Looking back at these early photos reminds me why I fell in love with nature photography in the first place. Thanks for taking this little trip down memory lane with me.

A Tough Morning for Conservation — and One Bright Spot of Hope

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Crisp autumn morning at Mount Moran in Grand Teton National Park, the snowy peak mirrored perfectly in the calm water below.

Mount Moran reflected in the Snake River.. Grand Teton National Park

This morning I want to take a few minutes to get serious about a subject I truly care about. Not my cats and their furry antics. No joking around today. We’re facing a real shift in environmental conservation, and it’s not a good one for wildlife or the planet. We only have one world, and we need to do everything we can to keep it a safe, stable home to pass on to future generations.

Environmental Protections Under Pressure

Several news outlets reported new efforts to reduce or remove federal protections on land surrounding major national parks, including areas connected to Yellowstone. Conservation groups warn that these buffer zones support wildlife corridors — the pathways animals rely on to migrate, breed, and survive. Without them, the parks turn into isolated pockets instead of functioning ecosystems.

Other reports describe changes to protections for certain marine reserves. These changes open the door to expanded commercial activity in areas originally set aside to safeguard ocean habitats. Marine scientists and environmental organizations say the shift could weaken long‑standing conservation work.

Whether people support or oppose these policy goals, the impact is real. Wildlife, water quality, and future generations all feel the effects. It’s hard not to feel a sense of loss when protections that took decades to build can disappear so quickly.

A Reminder That Conservation Still Works

In the middle of all that discouraging news, something else crossed my feed — and it reminded me why conservation matters.

Just hours after California completed its first wildlife bridge, three deer walked across it. Fifteen hours. That’s all it took for wildlife to recognize and use a safe passage built for them. The moment felt like a small miracle. It showed how quickly nature responds when we choose protection over exploitation.

Wildlife bridges save lives — both animal and human. They reconnect fragmented habitats. They give species a fighting chance. And they prove that when we invest in solutions, we see results.

So yes, today’s headlines were heavy. But that photo of the deer on the new bridge offered a spark of hope. Even in difficult times, progress is still possible — and worth fighting for.

We only get one planet. Let’s do everything we can to protect the wild places that make it extraordinary.

 

Banner and Balboa, Agents of Chaos

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Two cats mid‑wrestle on the carpet, frozen in a moment of chaotic sibling energy.

Agents of Chaos

Today’s post is brought to you by Banner and Balboa, Agents of Chaos

Welcome to my life.
Please note: this really happened, and no cats were harmed in the chronicling of this post — though one was forcibly evicted from a bathtub and another contributed to the general unraveling of my sanity.

The Night the Gremlins Took Over

A Promising Start

I started the night so well. Fitbit proudly informed me I’d clocked 51 whole minutes of deep sleep — practically a luxury spa retreat by my standards — and I thought, Yes. Tonight is the night. I’m finally going to sleep like a human being instead of a haunted scarecrow.

Naturally, that’s when everything went straight to hell in a handbasket.

The Mysterious 2 A.M. Knock

Around 2 a.m., I was jolted awake by a rhythmic knocking sound. Not a random thump. Not a creak. A pattern. The kind of noise that makes you sit up and think, “Well, that’s not good.”

I still have no idea what it was. It didn’t repeat, didn’t reveal itself, and wasn’t attached to any cat‑related crime scene. Just unexplained knocking and then poof — gone.

At first, I thought it was outside — the windows were open — but then I realized neither cat was in the bedroom. That’s when the “responsible pet parent” alarm went off.

The Innocent Cats (Allegedly)

I got up to check on them, expecting to find at least one of them mid‑shenanigan.

Nope.

Balboa was curled up on the couch looking like a Renaissance painting of a peaceful angel. Banner looked suspiciously innocent, which is how I knew he’d probably just finished a snack he wasn’t supposed to have.

Since I was already up, I figured I’d go to the bathroom and then try to salvage the rest of the night.

The Bathroom Takeover

That’s when the gremlins took over.

Banner marched into the tub like he was claiming new territory and refused to get out. Balboa got up and started following me around like a tiny furry shadow.

I tried sitting in a chair, hoping Banner would get bored of lying in the tub without an audience, but no — he was committed to the bit.

Eventually, I had to turn the water on to evict him. He gave me the betrayed look of a Victorian orphan in a Dickens novel, but he left. I shut the door behind him like I was sealing off a crime scene.

The Failed Return to Sleep

Back to bed I went… or tried to.

By then, I was fully awake, my nose was running, and my brain had rebooted into “middle‑of‑the‑night chaos mode.” I had just settled when Balboa hopped onto the bed.

Normally fine. Except he refused to settle down. He did the whole “walk in circles, flop dramatically, get up again, repeat” routine.

The Longest Night

This continued for the rest of the night — a tag‑team of feline interruptions, sniffles, and the slow unraveling of my sanity.

And the knocking? Still unexplained. I’m choosing to believe it was either a ghost with poor timing or the universe tapping out Morse code for “good luck.”

A Nap Is My Destiny

A nap is absolutely in my future. Possibly my destiny.

P.S.

If you’re curious why cats get the midnight zoomies or suddenly claim the bathtub as sovereign territory, my feed is filled with articles that offer an explanation, Sadly I think most of them are making it up as they go along.

And In case you missed it here’s a a brief retospective of my chaotic life with cats Kitty Shenanigans or Life with 2 Cats

 

 

Zoomies and Kitty Chaos

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Dynamic cartoon of a gray cat running fast with looping motion trails, illustrating classic cat zoomies and high‑speed feline behavior.

The Zoomie Trigger

Around here, the zoomies don’t start because the cats are playful or energized or feeling frisky.
No.
In this house, the zoomies have a very specific trigger:

Someone has left a calling card in the litter box.

One of the boys finishes his business, steps out with great dignity, and then suddenly realizes:

“I have created a stink. I must escape my own crime.”

And that’s when the chaos begins.

Banner: The Aerodynamic Escape Artist

Banner is the main culprit. His zoomies aren’t just running — they’re a full‑scale production.

First, his tail drops. This is notable because Banner’s tail is normally straight up like a proud little flagpole. But apparently, when fleeing the scene of his own stink, he becomes a creature of pure physics.

I swear he’s thinking:

“I must reduce wind resistance. Speed is essential.”

Tail down.
Body low.
Banner becomes a furry missile.

Then the muttering starts — not meowing, not chirping, just steady commentary as he revs himself up. And then he launches, tearing through the condo like a horse exploding out of the starting gate.

 

The Cat Tree Must Pay for Its Crimes

No zoomie session is complete without Banner stopping mid‑sprint to absolutely punish the cat tree.

I don’t know what the cat tree ever did to him, but Banner treats it like it has personally offended him and must be brought to justice.

Once the tree has been properly chastised, he’s off again, tail kinked, paws flying, muttering the whole way.

Balboa: The Spock of the Living Room

Balboa sometimes joins in, turning it into a two‑cat stampede.
But more often, he perches on the back of the couch or a shelf, ears pricked forward, watching with deep feline fascination.

He looks exactly like Spock observing an unfamiliar lifeform.

I can practically hear the log entry:

“Feline Behavior Log, Stardate 2026.6.09.
The small one has once again initiated the Post‑Litterbox Escape Ritual.
His aerodynamic tail adjustment is… fascinating.”

If he had eyebrows, one would absolutely be raised.

If Only They’d Give Me a Warning

I always wish I could catch it on video, but zoomies don’t come with a warning. If cats could just give me ten seconds’ notice —

“Attention human, zoomies commencing, prepare recording device.”

— I’d have a whole YouTube channel by now.

Until then, I’ll keep trying to describe the chaos. Words don’t quite capture it, but Banner certainly tries his best to provide the sound effects.

Stunt Double Demonstration: Actual Banner zoomies may occur at higher speeds and with more complaining.

 

Disclaimer: No cats were harmed during this zoomie session. Stunt doubles were used for any scenes requiring stillness, cooperation, or the ability to hold a pose for more than 0.3 seconds.

 

World Ocean Day: The Night I Met the Mantas

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🌊A Morning Prompt That Sparked a MemoryManta Ray Adventure. Snorkle with the giants in Hawaii

A little morning card on my screen recently told me to “Celebrate World Oceanic Day.” Not a real holiday, not even close to June, but it nudged loose one of my favorite memories from the Big Island — the night I went snorkeling with manta rays. And if there’s ever a story worthy of World Ocean Day, it’s this one.

Waiting Out the Rain

It had started to rain while we waited to head out, the kind of soft Hawaiian drizzle that feels more like a suggestion than weather. One of the other snorkelers asked the dive master if we’d still be going out “if it rained.” I remember blinking at her. We were about to jump into the Pacific Ocean — getting wet was sort of the point.

Dusk on the Big Island

The boat drifted near shore as dusk settled in. We could see the lights from the Marriott stretching across the water, long gold streaks shimmering toward us as the sky deepened from blue to indigo. The air was warm, the kind of tropical warmth that wraps around you like a shawl. The crew moved with practiced ease, lowering a huge square frame of lights into the water. The glow sank beneath the surface like a stage being lit from below. The lights attract the plankton, and the plankton attract the mantas — a whole food chain choreographed for our front‑row seats.

Into the Water

With the light frame in place, we splashed in — one by one — each snorkeler taking hold of the frame and settling into an easy dead man’s float. The ocean was warm against my skin, and I listened to the subtle lapping of the waves as I drifted, face down, breathing slow and steady through my snorkel. The night felt soft as velvet, the kind of darkness that holds you rather than hides you.

When the Mantas Appeared

And then… there they were.

They came in silently, emerging from the darkness like ghosts with wings. Enormous, graceful, otherworldly. They moved with a kind of slow, deliberate elegance, sweeping in wide arcs beneath us. They were huge — impossibly huge — and apparently just as curious about us as we were about them. I had to remind myself to breathe. It felt like watching an underwater ballet, choreographed by creatures who had been dancing long before humans ever arrived on the islands.

A Moment I’ll Never Forget

Then came the moment we were all hoping for. One of those beautiful creatures rose from below and swam right up the length of my body, its wings brushing the water inches from my skin. As it reached my collarbone, it rolled into a perfect backflip, white belly glowing in the light, before drifting away again into the dark. For a heartbeat, it felt like we were sharing the same pulse.

A Glimpse of the Magic

Since I didn’t have an underwater camera, here’s a video that captures the magic better than I ever could.

Why World Ocean Day Matters

If you’ve never floated in the dark while a manta ray the size of a dining room table glides past your face, trust me — the ocean has a way of making you feel small in the best possible way.

If You Ever Find Yourself on the Big Island

If you ever find yourself on the Big Island of Hawaii, take the plunge. The manta experience is one you’ll remember for a lifetime.