Author: Steve

We’ve tried turning the television volume up to “way too loud”, and bought sound bars enhanced for dialog.  It can still be hard to follow all the speech on television though, ranging from “doesn’t matter” like football games, to “impossible” for British programs.  I’m okay with normal programs, but it’s a little harder for Judy.  We have a couple wireless Bose headsets that help a lot, but still not quite enough for Judy when characters are speaking in British.

Judy’s latest hearing aids however, have a cool feature.  They can be set to Bluetooth the television sound right into the hearing aids.  That works!  Clear and understandable.  The only drawback is that if the sound is beaming right into Judy’s head, and still audible from the television, there is a slight lag which makes the sound unintelligible for her again.  If she is watching television by herself, no problem.  If I’m in the room too, I don’t hear anything.  Except, we still have the Bose headsets.  Turning down the sound in the room for the television doesn’t affect the sound in the headset, so Judy tunes the sound to her hearing aids (controlling them with an app on her smartphone), we turn off the sound in the room from the television, and I put on the headset.  Now we get to watch our new favorite British crime program, New Tricks, and understand every word. 

(If you were going to ask, our British discovery is a lot like the old series of “The Closer”, or “Major Crimes” solving crimes.  Nice ensemble.  A collection of characters we always enjoy dropping in on, and bonus, it goes on for 12 seasons!)

A butterfly kind of day.

Queens, on milkweed.

I imagine that someday I’ll repeat that backpacking trip brother Bill and I did all those years ago.  The second day in, we rounded a corner and unexpectedly came upon The Eagle, a feature in the Indian Peaks Wilderness that I had never heard of and wasn’t expecting.  It took my breath away.  We camped on the edge of a high-country lake at the foot of The Eagle, Lone Eagle Peak, that night as the only campers there.

(Not my photo, but it captures the spirit.)

In the occasional moment of lucidity, I consider that carrying a backpack over steep terrain at high altitude to spend the night at a remote backcountry lake may actually be a little beyond my remaining capacity.  The trailhead is at 10,000 feet.  Pawnee Pass is 12,500.  Lone Eagle Peak is on the other side.

But then I think “Naah.  I could still do this!”

Remember I sent out those pictures last February of a freshly planted orchard of citrus trees in bags.  Rio red grapefruit trees.

Those bags look like a lot of extra work, putting one on every tree to protect them from harsh heat, freezes, and probably from insects too.  They seem to be working.  These trees look like they’re developing really well.

But at some point isn’t enough enough?  These trees are about to burst their bags!

What is it going to take for the orchard owners to let them out?  A public outcry?  Do we have to demonstrate on the street (dirt road)? 

Free the fruit trees!

We noticed the first turkey vultures migrating a few weeks ago.  Today, we notice a stray hawk or two, then the sky suddenly blossoms with kettles of circling birds, rising on thermals to gain enough altitude to glide to the next thermal and repeat.  Hardly a wingbeat required as they migrate hundreds of miles, thousands altogether, from north to south in the fall.

Mostly swainson’s hawks at first, then broad-winged hawks and the occasional turkey vulture.  I zoom in to try to get a better look at the birds.

In the morning light, they’re mostly just silhouettes.  As the closest kettle drifts off, more appear in the distance.

The hundreds turn into thousands.  I take more pictures.  Even though they are different birds, they all look about the same.

We may get the same show again tomorrow, or we may not see a single hawk.  Never know.

Range maps.

Turkey vulture

The orange is summer only.  The purple is year-round.

Broad-winged hawk.

The blue color is for winter only.

Swainson’s hawks are the long-distance migration champions.  They migrate as much as 6,000 miles from their northern range to their wintering grounds in South America.