Mother’s Day Wingding
A passing flock of cedar waxwings graced my day, the first I’ve ever seen here. Sitting out on the deck on a gorgeous summery evening we noticed that the neighbor’s tree was alive with little birds. The telephoto lens revealed them to be cedar waxwings, a name so poetic that I was thrilled to have them help me celebrate the day.
Graceful in flight, they proved the point that you should always have a camera within reach, as half an hour later they had all flown away. And for once, the disappearance of birds had nothing to do with
petite Zazou, a mighty hunter who is herself normally quite camera-shy. Maybe I’ll try tele-photoing her from now on, since she seems more at ease that way.
It’s interesting to turn a long lens on nearby objects,
like this glass of celebratory Champagne,
or this Lewisia, so splendid in springtime. But of course what the lens really wants to do is look far afield, which in the case of our deck means out towards Puget Sound
where sailboats caroused and tugboats plied their trade against the backdrop of the Cascades, the tug working even on Mother’s Day
hauling barges into Seattle.
And then, after a couple of additional glasses of Champagne (because when you celebrate you might as well Celebrate) and the Lighting of the Grill to herald approaching summer and the outdoor cooking season, the doorbell rang and our neighbor brought us these beautiful fragrant yellow azaleas to join the Lily of the Valley that had bloomed just in time for Mother’s Day. A wingding of a day, I’d say, all brought to you by the magic of telephoto, instead of Teleflora.