PASFLA at Loxahatchee

 

To be supportive of my camera club, I went on a birding trip at Loxahatchee. Everyone shoots birds down here, except me. I cannot carry the heavy equipment and don’t have the patience.

 

I  got one shot. Missed the bird eating. My expert advisers told me the hawk was digesting his food. By the time I got my cell phone out, he had finished.

 

So, I walked over to a spot I had selected to shoot a self portrait and these two people were birding. Karli was spotting and Russell was looking with the glass. They sat for a portrait, a memorable one  I hope. We had a nice time chatting and I got some practice in.

 

 

 

Gene Joyner, Died

Eugene Joyner died. https://www.tillmanfuneralhome.com/obituaries/eugene-joyner

We did not know him, personally, just botanically. Interesting man. He had an interest in rain forests and botanical gardens. So, right in the outskirts of West Palm Beach he built a tropical rain forest, supported it with private contributions and filled it with plants he had picked up traveling around the world. I wrote about him on this blog previously on August 14, 2018. https://www.duckpondworks.com/?p=7237

On visiting the gardens, he was the personal tour guide, always enthusiastic, always informed. There were plants and trees and fruits, several different kinds of avocados. He had tables for eating and lectures, but that never seemed to work out.

Yesterday, we called to make reservations at the garden and learned of Gene’s death. The web page said today and tomorrow would be the last days the garden would be open.

I found the two images displayed here and printed them 11×17, and looked for more. In my haste, I missed a couple. But, so what? During the drive, Sharon Googled Gene and much to her surprise, she gasped, the search turned up a picture I had taken in 2017

We arrived, parked, amidst several cars, a sign many were coming to pay their last respects. I photographed the guide we had walked with in the past who was helping to park cars. Tears welled up in my eyes.”Go in and see his sisters,” she said.

I carried my camera and the two prints. As we approached the interior, a woman sorta shrieked, “…, you’re the photographer. Come over here. We looked all night to find these pictures you took.” She remembered me and honored me by having my images displayed.  And, there on the table were the two images I had taken, 8.5×11 in the original sleeves I had sent them.

Sharon and I walked around up and down familiar paths, the only difference being that this is winter. We remembered all the seasonal views. Soon, after the property is sold and developed, all the trees will be gone and deflowered. Town homes will fill the space. There will be no sweet smells or exotic plants.

Natures natural noise won’t ever be heard again. Order will reign.

Publix Sushi Maker

I don’t know his name, but I eat what he makes. I smile at him; he smiles back. If I don’t see what I want, I point or tell him. Whether he understands, I dunno. But our Publix puts out a credible Sushi and handroll product.

I have taken many images of workers at the store, printed and distributed them. Dunnot know what they do with them. A fruit cutter had hers on the wall for all to see. Usually supermarkets have the manager’s images posted near the service/complaint dest next to the founder’s. I give the workers equal status.

Arthur Marshall Fish and Wildlife Tree

It looks just like a tree, but it isn’t. I don’t know what kind of tree it is or anything about it, except it sits in the Swamp Walk at Arthur Marshall Fish and Wildlife Center. I look at it for a few seconds as I do a loop.

No one cares for it, but it cares for us, dancing in the wind, casting reflections off the mossy water. In the Spring it will sprout leaves again and the whole swamp will take on a new charm. If you walk by, it probably won’t look like this; it changes its appearance by season and time of day. And of course, my camera sees it differently from your eyes.

People look for gators and birds and our Barred Owl in residence as they walk around the swamp on the boardwalk. People want a Disneyland type experience from a nature setting. Seeing me with my camera,  they ask if I have seen anything. I always reply, “Yes I have.”

 

Mars Terrain

So, I am driving up 441 around the corner from my home and what do I see? MARS TERRAIN. No, it’s just another GL community being built on Ag District land. They say they are trading it for equally useful land, but they aren’t. The original deals called for a quid pro quo, but they had sufficient power to water down the zoning rules and the deal.

The new homes start at $1,000,000. The development starts on Lyons Road, where I live and stretches a long block to 441. Hard to tell how long it is. We are getting a library and some ball fields that there isn’t enough money in the budget to pay for.

At least I can still go for a walk across the street in the swamp at Arthur Marshall Loxahatchee Fish and Wildlife Sanctuary. But who knows how long this will last until their board decides to scale back and develop?

Or just hang out around a pond and talk with a bird.

 

Chanukah Latke Adventure

My Potato Head, Frenchy, Monsieur Pommes Frites, Pomme de Terre Tête controls Hanukah at Duckpond. He supervises the LATKES from start to finish. Then …

So, when I opened the bag of potatoes and he saw potato blight, he went nuts. These potatoes could not be grated. They were soft and mushy. He went nutsy cuckoo.


Off to Publix. With many watching, he wandered into the potato bin and made his selections. He felt them and talked with a few. I had the charge card.

Signed, sealed and delivered. I paid. I carried him. I carried the precious cargo: the potatoes.

What a happy camper. He was ready. Add a menorah, a dreidel, and some chanukah gelt and we were ready. Then he did a “ready for my closeup, Mr. Demille.”

Happy Chanukah.

 

SCUM

 

https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/interactive/2023/trump-pardon-power-2024-benefit/?itid=sr_1

If you pay, you can play. And you also need a Rabbi on the inside, or do philanthropic work with Jewish groups, possibly even know the son-in-laws father or make donations to the campaign. You an get people out of jail.

Similar connections or a close friendship to a Mayor or person near the Governor can also get a person removed from office. SURPRISE. And then they drop you on your head and let the door hit you on the way out. Get your shit and move. Someone wants your office. No job or job prospects; no health care. No nothing.

I couldn’t get a pardon or be forgiven for my transgressions, minor or mischievous as they were. No way to approach Teshuvah and make amends.  No plea or justice or  mercy was shown for me. So I live with my judicial sins, rekindling them against my will every night and even at inopportune times during the day.

Field of Flowers

Flower arrangers glow like their flowers. How can I make a still life, living out my Van Gogh fantasy if I don’t go to flower stores. And once there, I am always challenged by whether I should take a shot of the flowers or one of the women who lovingly construct the arrangements.

As I walked up to deliver his photo, Kevin walked out of the store and welcomed me, “Mr. Duck, the photographer.” I’m honored he remembered me.

I bought this flower and forgot to ask its name – Damn. The flower lady told me to clip it everyday and it will open. We will SEE.

I can never resist having sunflowers around. Always makes me think of Van Gogh. Sharon got me the vase, featured here for an I Love You Gift. Don’t forget that everyday is Valentines Day.

 

 

Burlington VT Knows Hate

Ohavi Zedek Synagogue in Burlington VT was the site of an anti-semetic attack in 2009. First they went to Temple Sinai. Then they went to the Chabad. Everyone knew about it and few came, not Peter Welch, not Bernie Sanders, and not Pat Leahey. Miro Weinberger, the Mayor, a Jew, also passed. I went and cried, too upset to even make a lot of photos. And I can still hear the kid yelling hateful slogans he didn’t know the meaning of and had been taught to say.

My friend Stan Greenberg, who is blind, said he came to “Bear Witness” and to protect the shul against evil thoughts. He brought his dog, Ernie. “They’ll come through me,” he said. “I’m not moving.”

Clowns who follow the haters made fun, showing the absurdity. But as good intentions as they had, the stench of the haters and the sound of their chants could be smelled and heard. Nothing could make it go away.

Rabbi Joshua closed the Thrift Shop. He went back to his study. No mitzvahs today.

We try to live in peace, but we have little to do with what others do. We try to do our best to be kind and giving, to be thoughtful and loving. But sometimes it don’t work. Killing those who would kill you first may be morally correct, but killing those who haven’t had a chance to live and don’t know why they are dying and cannot do anything about it, never is.