Recently, I’ve been taking photos of shoals of little fish I see when I get in the water. I thought I’d try shooting them from underneath and, while this hasn’t resulted in decent fish photos, I rather like the look of the water that’s shown up in some of the photos. This one has the added bonus that even the fish can be seen, too.
No prizes for guessing who the owner of this truck will vote for, assuming he’s still alive. Trump might be the first president actively seeking to kill his most ardent supporters, by urging them to gather in groups and protest measures that help keep them alive.
I hope this photo doesn’t ruin anyone’s breakfast, but I run it for a couple of reasons. First, a lot of people fish around the island and most of them don’t like eels. Snag an eel on your line and there’s not much to be done. The eel will wrap itself in knots and the only way to be rid of it is to cut the line. The person fishing could try removing the hook and releasing the eel, but even if they were so inclined, the feeling is, ‘why release an eel so that it can tie itself in knots next time you throw a line in?’
And that brings us to the other reason for running the photo, and which also explains another reason no one wants to remove that hook. Look at those teeth! Rows of them, front and back, side to side. Reach for that hook and chances are you’re going to get bitten. This is also why it’s not a good idea to mess with anything in the water. Even little fish that look harmless can have a powerful bite, or sharp spines, or some other nasty surprise.
A view looking up into a banyan tree. Banyans can grow to a huge size with multiple trunks and hollow interiors, and every tree has a different look.
Three of these signs appeared at Upolu Airport recently. I think we can all agree that in these troubling times it’s important for people to stay safe by following such protocols.
The plane in the photo is owned by the skydiving company that used to fly out of the airport back in pre-pandemic days. It’s fairly safe to say that they’ll be one of the last businesses allowed to reopen. It’s hard to maintain social distancing on a plane that size, especially when most clients are going to be strapped to someone who knows how to operate a parachute.
In the meantime, in the last four months, the number of times I’ve seen more than one person inside the fence is exactly equal to the number of times I’ve seen that one person wearing a mask. I won’t say how many times that is, but it’s a very round number.
Posted in response to Becky’s July Squares challenge theme of ‘Perspective.’ See more responses here.
There could be any number of unseen creatures in this hedge, but the right (or wrong depending on how you look at it) color will be noticed instantly, as in the case of this passion vine butterfly.
Posted in response to Becky’s July Squares challenge theme of ‘Perspective.’ See more responses here.
I had a relapse a few days ago, lured into shooting photos of butterflies on the wing, or should I say, trying to shoot. As the butterflies jitterbugged around, I followed them with my camera, even though I know how futile that can be. The result, predictably, was zero photos of butterflies in flight but, by way of compensation, a few curious blurs – of leaves in motion, wood in motion, light in motion.
This is one of those photos. And what is it? Well, that’s up to you. It’s whatever you see there.
Posted in response to Becky’s July Squares challenge theme of ‘Perspective.’ See more responses here.
This week’s Friendly Friday challenge theme is ‘Unusual.’ See more responses here.
Nēnē, the endemic Hawaiian geese, are long-distant relatives of Canada geese. They were listed as an endangered species, until the end of last year when their status was changed to ‘threatened.’
Because of the nēnē’s precarious numbers, it isn’t unusual to see “Slow, Nēnē Crossing” signs, particularly in areas where nēnē breed. Because their numbers are on the rebound on the Big Island, it’s also not unusual for me to see nēnē, on my daily walks or when I was working. But in my years on the island, I never saw a nēnē anywhere near one of the warning signs, until earlier this year, just before the lockdown. This sign and these two birds were in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, where a fair number of the birds live and breed.
I had to stop and get a photo of this unusual event, fortunately without getting myself or the birds killed (it’s a busy, narrow road). The only disappointing thing about this encounter was that neither of the nēnē actually crossed the road. I guess I’ll have to wait another seven years to witness that.
Graham's Island 