Caenurgia, Mocis and Ptichodis

We have a lot of these particular lesser underwings at the CB.  Chances are, a moth fooling around in the grass as Ogma's baleful eye glares down  is one of these.  Alas, they are a little hard to distinguish, one from another.  In particular, a couple of the Mocis are tough.  We are pondering some of the CB Mocis still.  Someday we may figure them out, fer sure.  Hocus, pocus is it Mocus or Ptichodis?  Huh-huh. 

These moths tend to feature horizontal stripes.  On this one, Caenurgia erechtea, one of the most photographed of all Norte Americana moths, the approximately horizontal stripes are bolder than average.

Earth's Moon Plus Jupiter

The time was 5:55 PM, Austink time, in the pipe. Ray stepped to the back door.  Out Ray peered into the stygian darkness.  Up and out.  My goodness, Ray exclaimed.  There is  Our Moon, a totem of Our Goddess with Jupiter on Her shoulder. I should take a peekture.  Out Ray went, buffeted by the dry north wind.  Yet with steady hand, Ray, a peekture took. 

Yes.  Druids like peektures of Heavenly bodies in close proximity.  60d with 400mm 5.6 handheld.

Compare Yerself to Jesus!

Whether you believe Jesus was the son of a living God, a king of the Jews, fictional, or whatnot you can still compare yourself to Jesus.  Like Crumby once grew his hair long, then compared himself to the many pictures of Jesus sporting long hair.   Is Jesus still depicted as a long hair by the artistes?  Ray, used to wear a beard.  So same difference, Ray could easily compare his beard to the many artistic conceptions of  Jesus' beard.  Karl the Tracker Druid allows that he once washed a whore's feet.  Or the whore washed Karl's  feet.  One or the other.  That's Jesus like, either way. 

So yes,  Compare yourself to Jesus.  Like Crumby was comparing himself to Jesus this morning after he got spooked by the eerie silence during the customary morning dog walk.   Mercy!  Another dry norther was fixing to blow through  as that ominous dog walk progressed.  But the wind at ground level had not shifted yet so the wind noise was not a factor.  And it was early, so all the Christmas Eve revelers were still abed and the traffic noise was abated.  Even the birds were stilled.  Jeez Louise, thought Crumby.  This is creeping me out. 

In the uncharacteristic (for Stinky Valley) quiet, Crumby grew afraid.  Yes.  Crumby grew fearful.  And when Crumby grows or waxes fearful, Crumby compares himself to Jesus.

OK.  I really hate sandals.  Did  I cleanse a leper lately or ever?  Did I, uh, do any of those doctoring like miracles.  No.   Dang.  Well.  I once built a picnic table out of wood.  That's like, carpentry.  Yes.  And I havn't killed anybody recently.  Which is Jesus like. I'm there, dude, with Jesus.

After comparing himself to Jesus, Crumby felt better.  I shall continue this walk, with only a dog for company, despite the terrible silence that crowds about, hedging me in.  But then, gradually,  Crumby's ears perked as the wind shifted and the familiar tire whine on Hwy. 290/71 became audible.  Yes.  The motorists have survived another Christmas Eve.  There they go, zooming along.

The Fork-Tailed Flycatcher

Many may recall that Crumby was, many moons ago,  a birder.  Before that, prior to his conversion to Druidism, Crumby was a Christian.  But Crumby was never, Praise the Goddess,  a Christian birder. 

Then, over the course of time, Crumby metamorphosed into a NEPA biologist which meant he got paid to observe the antics of federally listed or category avians of Class Aves.  Crumby could still do that maybe, but the fun and money aint worth the hassle.  Plus, there is the personal honor thing to consider. 

So Crumby has contented himself with backyard birdshit. Yet when word went out that a fork-tailed flycatcher (Tyranus savana) had bumped its noggin, then flown too far north;  that was too much for Crumby.  Yes it was.  Within days of hearing the news, Crumby headed east, toward the general vicinity of the fork-tailed flycatcher habitation. 

This is the equipment Crumby took along:  Nikon Superior Elite, 10x42 bins, Lomo 95mm catadioptirc scope with Lomo 25mm plossl, Celestron 32mm plossl, Celestron 40mm Kellner Japan, retardo Celestron tripod,   a wrench for the tripod, Canon 6od with 400mm 5.6, flash and Better Beamer attached,  water bottle. 

In hindsight, a 20mm telescope lens would have come in handy.  Plus, Crumby could just as soon have left the camera plus accouterments behind.   That's becasue the dang bird which we are now discussing stayed off too fer away.   But an average birder may not know how close he or she may approach some random member of Class Aves, beforehand, only in hindsight.  So it's better to have it and not need it. 

All righty.  The dang bird we have been discussing up 'til now is pretty easy to identify to species even over a great distance provided some optical aid beginning with spectacles.  Which is why Crumby considered going after that particular bird in the first place.  If the bird was not a fork-tailed flycatcher, but instead,  say, an immature pipit, Crumby would have most likely stayed home.   Again, we are considering the fun versus hassle dichotomy.  So it took a fork-tailed flycatcher to turn Crumby back into a birder. 

Upshot.  Crumby had fun, balancing out tolerable hassle, espying the fork-tailed flycatcher in his Lomo.  Uncharacteristically,  Crumby allowed other birders present to look through the Lomo.  Praise the Goddess!

Mercy though!   Crumby frets over the fate of these prodigal avians.   There that fork-tailed flycatcher is, all alone, with only scissortails for company.    Will it ever see its sunny home and friends again, alas?

The Days are Getting Longer

For Heaven's sake.  The universe in these parts has completely reversed course and now, all of a sudden, daylength inreases daily.  Already, day length has increased by minutes.  Anon, if this keeps up, the Summer Solstice shall be upon those who survive the intervening journey or bullshit.

Meantime the CB is celebrating a new bird on the RGVECB Bird Checklist.  And the new bird is, pine warbler (Dendroica penus I mean pinus).  Yes.  The pine warbler is endemic, or nearly so, to the pine forests or piney woods of Secesh Land. Its westernmost outpost is situated just east of these parts in the recently burned, so-called, lost pines of Bastrop County.  So-called, because those particular pines are not lost.  They know right where they are.  Yes they do.

Winter Solstice Blues

Tomorrrow is Winter Solstice (WS) which Druids celebrate as the shortest day of the year on Planet Earth in these parts of Planet Earth.    Yes.  The stygian darkness shall prevail, or would if the multitude of night lights went out.  Actually, the night lights may go out.  Because yet another dry norther is blowing outside.  Sometimes the northers knock out the electricity which runs the lights.  Regardless though,  Ogma Sunface shall shine less than half of 24 hours tomorrow.  That's a fact.

The reduced amount of sunshine in these parts indicates dangerously low levels of  Vitamin D within certain segments of the human population.   (You know who you are!)  So the Druids remind everyone of the Vitamin D shortage around WS Day as a public service, attempting to forestall even more outbreaks of murder, cannibalism and incest.  Yes.  Folks, take your vitamin pills if you know what's good fer ye.

But even more troubling than the annual Vitamin D shortage is the so-called drought.  Once again , the rain has completely ceased in these parts.  How can we survive without rain?  Well, maybe the engineers shall dig ditches all the way to the mighty Mississippi.  Maybe we can get some water that way.  Or maybe the ruling class shall show pity.  Yes.  That shall happen.  The idle rich shall truck in bottled water for the multitudes.  Regardless!  One things certain though,  the rivers in these parts are fixing to run dry.  Mercy!

So, all in all,  prospects for peace and prosperity, here in Austink, the Capitol of the Repooblick, are bleak.  And even arming the school marms may not help.  Hold it!  Mercy!  Are we fixing to arm all the teachers, or just the strongest and wisest teachers; the coaches?  Or maybe the counselors  are the portion of the faculty that needs the guns and ammo.  Yes.  That's it.  Gun toting would actually provide the counselors with something to do. 

Oh well.  Barbarism may be inevitable.  Yes.  Barbarism is a level of civilization that everyone, even in the Repooblick, can handle, intellectually. 

To change the subject.  Right about when the rain stopped entirely, the CB was visited by common grackles.  Ray took this peekture of a young one.

Too Cold fer Inky Dinks

There the cat was with his front paws on the window sill, sidling along on his back legs.  That usually means some wildlife is outside, lizard, bird or rodent.   So I like took this peekture through a double pane window and screen, thanks to being alerted by the cat. 

Yes.  Mercy!  Our first real bad dry norther of the season arrived early this week.  The wind was merciless the first night and early morning of that particular dry nother's passage.  So the  inky dinks took refuge in the early morning on the CB AC fan box.  The white-wing is included for scale.

Meantime, the CB computer malfunctioned again.  That's part of the reason we have not contributed to the venue for awhile.  That, and Crumby has more health issues lately.  Plus, the rain falleth not, ever, for many weeks.  It's starting to look like we are in deep shit and the remaining CB trees probably won't make it through the upcoming terrible heat, absent any mercurial water.  Mercy!  Anon,  as planet earth marches on into the great heat of summer, much shall perish that fortuitously survived the penultimate last time around.  Alas.

But hey.  The bourgeois  hotels profitted from housing the idle rich for F1.   It's a bourgeois town. 

Ovation:    Ye dumbasses are fixing to seriously regret the demise of the Homeland unions.  Ye shall cry bitter, yet ignorant tears in your soup that features poverty and despair.  Good.  Ye love monopoly capitalism and imperialism . Ye shall get what ye deserve.  Ye shall reap what ye sow.