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Swede1952

@[email protected]

Retired soldier, I spent about 30 years in the military (USMC/Army). Also recently retired computer systems engineer. So, I'm just plain retired. I need something to do so, I decided on photography and bird watching as a hobby. Unless otherwise stated, all photographs I post are my own.

I take pictures and want to share them with you, so please follow my blog.

#TheScienceofBirds
#birds #birdwatching #photography #photographer

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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Titmouse at Attention

This Tufted Titmouse (Baeolophus bicolor) is perched atop my old bird feeder, the one I kept going for more than twenty years. I patched and repaired it countless times until it finally gave out not long ago.

Tufted titmice are a favorite among a select group of bird enthusiasts. To celebrate these charming creatures, I’ve curated a special collection dedicated entirely to them in my photo gallery. Take a look!

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A Tufted Titmouse stands poised on a weathered wooden beam, its small body full of alert energy. The bird’s soft gray crest rises like a tiny plume, giving it a dignified silhouette despite its size. Its dark, round eye gleams with curiosity, set in a pale face that makes the expression even more striking. The feathers along its back are a smooth bluish‑gray, shifting gently into the warm buff tones along its sides and the clean white of its underside. The Titmouse grips the wood with delicate feet, the grain and old nail heads beneath it adding a rugged texture that contrasts with the bird’s neat, refined plumage. Behind it stretches a deep, velvety green background—simple, uncluttered, and perfectly chosen to make the bird stand out as if illuminated. Every detail feels crisp: the curve of the crest, the fine lines of the feathers, the sense that the bird might flick its wings or call out at any moment. The whole image captures a moment of quiet readiness, a small creature balanced between stillness and motion." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Gentle Gaze

Imagine how a person who loves fishing must feel if they can walk out their back door and cast a line. That’s how I feel about my backyard—but instead of fishing, I sit outside and watch and photograph the visitors. There are about ten or so species that are regulars this time of year. House Finches (Haemorhous mexicanus), like this little female whose gaze is locked on mine, stay around for most of the year.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A small female House Finch perches on a smooth, curved black rod, her tiny feet gripping the metal with delicate certainty. Her body is soft and rounded, covered in fine brown streaks that flow down her chest like brushstrokes. The feathers along her sides and wings form a gentle pattern of warm browns and pale creams, each line crisp and textured. Her head tilts slightly to one side, giving her an inquisitive, almost conversational expression—as if she’s pausing mid‑thought. Light falls evenly across her plumage, revealing the subtle layering of feathers and the faint shimmer of down near her throat. Behind her, the background dissolves into a soft, creamy blur, making her the clear, bright center of attention. The overall feeling is quiet, intimate, and full of small, natural detail." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🏈🏈🏈

9 February 2026

I really enjoyed the Super Bowl last night. It’s a lot easier to relax into the game when the team you’re pulling for is in control for three straight hours, and the Seahawks absolutely were. If you didn’t watch, the final score was 29–13, Seattle. They aren’t my usual team, though. Being originally from California, I tend to root for the Rams, Giants, or Chargers. If two California teams ever met in the Super Bowl, I’d be in real trouble. This time, the Seahawks’ West Coast identity made the choice simple—proximity won out. And honestly, you have to pick a side if you want to feel the full excitement of a football game.

I also loved the halftime show with Bad Bunny. The staging and visuals were fantastic. I don’t speak Spanish—though I wish I did—but it didn’t matter. Roughly 65 million people across the United States and its territories speak Spanish, which is about one in five. It’s woven into the fabric of American life.

I live in Louisiana now, so you might think I’d be a Saints fan. Not quite. Still, unless they’re playing one of my California teams, I can see myself cheering for them. It’s just the local rhythm here.

The truth is, I don’t really keep up with football during the season. I’m vaguely aware games are happening somewhere, and I’ll catch one when the mood strikes. But I always watch the Super Bowl, and I enjoy Thanksgiving games when I’m somewhere that actually gets TV reception. We usually spend Thanksgiving at our little house in Georgia, where we don’t get any channels at all. I’m working on fixing that.

“Where we love is home — home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.” — Oliver Wendell Holmes

“To have another language is to possess a second soul.” — Charlemagne

“Football is the ballet of the masses.” — Dmitri Shostakovich

Pelicans on the Gulf Wind "The scene feels like a quiet breath held between sea and sky. Four brown pelicans sweep away from the shoreline at Holly Beach, Louisiana, their long wings stretched wide as they skim just inches above the Gulf of Mexico. They fly in a loose, fluid line—each bird catching the same invisible ribbon of air, each body angled slightly forward as if pulled by the horizon itself. The water beneath them is calm and faintly rippled, a soft blue-gray sheet that mirrors their silhouettes. Farther out, the Gulf opens into a pale, hazy distance where sea and sky blend without a seam. The light is gentle, almost silvery, giving the whole moment a sense of early‑morning stillness or the quiet hush before dusk. The pelicans look purposeful yet unhurried, gliding with that effortless grace that makes it seem as though the ocean itself is carrying them forward." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Pier, Ocean, and Avian Symphony

This is a seascape captured one morning at Gulfport, Mississippi. The ocean stretches out toward a long pier in the distance, its red‑roofed gazebos standing out against the horizon. The sky is an intense, almost unreal blue, with dark clouds drifting across it. Hundreds of birds—likely black skimmers—are flying away in a great sweeping movement, some still close enough to see clearly, others already far off in the distance.

For those who love skies set ablaze with color—sunsets that linger, clouds that speak in texture and light—my gallery holds a collection crafted just for you.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The scene opens wide and breathes. A long wooden pier stretches out over calm coastal water, its posts and covered shelters forming a steady line against a sky that refuses to settle on a single color. Above it, a sweeping flock of black skimmers fills the air—dozens of dark, slender bodies moving in loose formation, wings angled like long blades cutting through the morning light. Their silhouettes are sharp and fluid at once, each bird catching a slightly different shade of the sky behind it. The sky itself is a layered wash of blues, violets, and soft pinks, as if the day is shifting moods mid‑breath. Clouds drift in textured bands, glowing at the edges where the light touches them. Below, the beach is pale and quiet, a simple foreground that lets the drama of sky and wings take center stage. The water mirrors the colors above in muted reflection, giving the whole scene a sense of motion and stillness intertwined. The image feels like a moment caught between tides—alive with movement, yet deeply peaceful." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🌹🌹🌹

8 February 2026

I bought a little battery‑powered vacuum a couple of weeks ago, and the box is still sealed. It’s one of those high‑speed gadgets shaped like an electric drill, with a battery pack that slides into the handle. At the time, I was convinced I had a specific task in mind—something important enough to justify the purchase—but whatever that task was has long since evaporated. I could use it to clean the dust out of my computer, but that’s one of those jobs that never quite qualifies as urgent.

Supposedly the thing can reverse and blow air instead of vacuuming, which might be handy. I’ve already imagined using it to blow‑dry the motorcycle after a wash, but that’s another task that doesn’t need doing anytime soon. At this rate, the vacuum may stay in the box a while longer. I should charge the batteries, but—again—not right away.

Today’s plan is to go outside with Charlie and the garden wagon—the kind that flips up and dumps—and pick up the concrete residue along the edge of the new driveway I had poured a couple of months ago. To be fair, I also planned to do that yesterday. And the day before. It’s something I want to do, but not something that demands immediate action. It does need to be done before spring, though, when mowing becomes unavoidable. I’m reasonably confident I’ll get out there today.

The real obstacle is lunch. I usually have a salad and iced tea and eat in my recliner while the TV is on. That recliner has a way of grabbing hold of me and insisting on a nap afterward. Time has a funny way of slipping away when the recliner gets involved.

“Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.” — William James

“Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.” — John Lennon

“Great acts are made up of small deeds.” — Lao Tzu

Rain‑Kissed Rose "The rose in your photo feels almost close enough to touch. A single bloom fills the frame, its petals a deep, saturated red that borders on velvet. Each petal curls outward with a soft, sculpted precision, and the entire flower is jeweled with clear droplets of water—some tiny as mist, others round enough to catch the light like glass beads. The droplets cling to the folds and edges, turning the rose into something both tender and luminous, as if it has just stepped out of a gentle rain. Behind the bloom, the world softens into a blur of greens and muted stone tones. The background never competes; it simply holds the rose in quiet contrast, letting the color and texture of the petals command all attention. The overall feeling is intimate, almost contemplative—a moment of stillness captured in the aftermath of water and bloom." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Whisper of a Tern

I’ve said before that a photograph doesn’t need to be perfect to be worth enjoying. This soft image of a royal tern (Thalasseus maximus) is a good example. The bird is turning toward me mid‑flight, almost as if it knows I’m trying to catch the moment.

I took the shot while drifting down the Savannah River on a riverboat, with several terns following along behind us. There was something gentle about the way this one broke formation and angled toward me, wings open, light softening everything around it. Imperfect, yes—but full of life.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The royal tern rushes toward you out of a soft, glowing sky, wings stretched wide like pale sails catching a gentle wind. Its body is slightly blurred by motion, giving the sense that it’s slicing through the air with purpose, yet wrapped in a kind of dreamlike hush. The background is a smooth wash of color—faint blue drifting into warm cream—so the bird seems suspended in open space, weightless and unhurried. Its beak is open mid‑call, a tiny flash of orange against the muted sky, and the symmetry of its wings creates a feeling of balance and grace. Even in motion, there’s a softness to the image, as if the moment were cushioned by light. It feels intimate, like the tern is flying straight out of the horizon and into your awareness, carrying a bit of the ocean’s quiet with it." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 😴🥱☕

7 February 2026

I woke up groggy and disoriented, which isn’t unusual when I fall asleep in my chair. The TV was still on but silent, and Charlie was sitting in front of me, staring like he’d been waiting for me to rejoin the living. I rubbed my eyes, stood, and made my way through the house toward the bedroom, Charlie padding along behind me.

My wife was in front of the mirror doing something with her hair. “I fell asleep,” I said. She glanced over and smiled, but didn’t say a word. That alone was strange—she’s usually quick with a comment.

I headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. When I looked back through the doorway, Charlie was sitting exactly where I’d been standing, watching my wife. He was perfectly still except for that black border collie tail, curved up with the white tip held like a little flag.

The shower felt good—narrow jets of hot water working into my neck and shoulders—so I stayed longer than usual, letting the heat soak through me. When I finished, I pulled on a T‑shirt and gym shorts and headed back toward my chair.

Down the hall, through the kitchen, into the family room—and then I froze. Because there I was, still lying back in my recliner, wearing the old blue jeans and olive drab work shirt I’d had on all day.

I wasn’t shocked or scared. My first thought was simply, Well, will you look at that. Hadn’t my wife just seen me walk through the bedroom? Or had she only reacted to Charlie? Then another thought drifted in: Well, there it is. Apparently life doesn’t go on after all.

Of course, none of this happened. But it felt like the start of a pretty good ghost story.

“Life is a dream from which we all must wake.” — James Joyce

“The dead are never far from the living.” — African proverb

“Things are not what they seem, nor are they otherwise.” — Zen proverb

Egret and the Ruins "The great egret stands like a pale sentinel against the worn geometry of an old utility dock, its white plumage almost luminous against the dark, weather‑beaten wood. The bird is perched high on a crossbeam, tall and composed, its long neck held in a gentle S‑curve as if it’s surveying the slow rhythm of the Savannah River below. The structure beneath it tells its own story—thick timbers softened by moss, metal brackets streaked with rust, and a vertical pipe rising behind the egret like the remnant of some forgotten machinery. Everything about the dock feels abandoned, a relic left to the river and the creeping green of the surrounding foliage. That contrast—industrial decay and the egret’s clean, living elegance—creates a quiet tension. The bird seems both out of place and perfectly at home, a bright, breathing note perched atop a fading man‑made frame. You can almost feel the humid air, hear the muted lap of water against pilings, and sense the stillness that settles when a wild creature decides a place is safe enough to pause." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Twilight Hawk, A Blackhawk Eveng Patrol

This is the silhouette of a Black Hawk helicopter flying through an orange sky.

My photo gallery features over 1400 carefully selected images. While most are chosen for their visual appeal, a few stand out as novelty shots. Feel free to explore my gallery at:

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A Black Hawk helicopter cuts across a sky that looks as if it’s been set on fire by the rising or setting sun. The entire backdrop glows in deep oranges and molten yellows, the kind of light that turns the air itself into a warm haze. Against that brilliance, the helicopter appears as a perfect silhouette—sharp, dark, and unmistakably purposeful. You can make out the broad main rotor, frozen mid‑spin in the still image, and the smaller tail rotor at the back. The landing gear hangs beneath the fuselage, giving the aircraft a slightly predatory posture, as if it’s ready to drop into action at any moment. The silhouette is crisp enough that every angle and contour reads clearly, even without visible detail. It feels like motion suspended—an instant of power and precision held in the glow of a dramatic sky. The contrast between the fiery background and the dark aircraft gives the scene a cinematic intensity. It’s a moment that feels both calm and charged, as if the helicopter is moving through the last breath of daylight or the first breath of morning." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Perched Between Seasons

Just a couple of days ago I wrote about how I hadn’t seen any American robins (Turdus migratorius) around for a while. This morning, I spotted one perched in the top of a tall tree about 100 meters away.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"An American robin perches on a bare branch as if it has claimed the morning for itself. The sky behind it is a clear, uninterrupted blue—so smooth it feels like a backdrop painted just for this bird. With no leaves to compete for attention, the robin stands out in crisp silhouette and color. Its breast glows a deep, warm orange, the kind that looks almost sunlit even when the light is soft. The head is dark, nearly charcoal, giving the bird a sharp, alert profile. Gray wings fold neatly along its sides, each feather catching just enough light to show texture without breaking the simplicity of the scene. The branch beneath it is rough and weathered, a tangle of winter limbs reaching upward like a quiet scaffolding. The robin looks outward, chest lifted, as if listening for the first hint of movement in the stillness. The whole image feels like a pause between seasons—winter’s bare architecture holding space for a bird that already carries spring in its colors." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🦆🪿🦢

5 February 2026

I’m on a roll this morning—though that usually lasts only until it’s time to actually start typing. Getting the images ready is the easy part. I pick a photo I want to use, run it through a bit of post‑processing, then carve out the portion that feels worth presenting. I rarely use the whole frame; I crop until the composition says what I want it to say. After that, I shrink the file down to something social‑media‑friendly. I imagine photographers everywhere follow some version of the same ritual.

If you’re curious about the apps I use, it’s mostly Adobe Lightroom and Topaz Photo. Nothing exotic—just the usual tools in the digital‑photography toolbox.

The hard part of my morning begins when it’s time to put down words. I never plan a subject. I just sit here staring at the screen, wondering what nonsense I’ll ramble about today. Sometimes I look around my office for inspiration, but with my feet propped on the desk, my field of view is limited. I can only crane my neck about ninety degrees in either direction, so the odds of inspiration are slim—though I once managed to write two thousand characters about an old shirt draped over my side chair.

The subject often drifts to my dog, Charlie. Who doesn’t have something to say about their best friend? Besties are funny, which means there’s always material. Charlie, for example, can be fast asleep on the far side of the house, but the moment a chip bag crinkles, he’s suddenly right there. That one’s on me—I share.

“I write to find out what I’m thinking.” — Joan Didion

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.” — Scott Adams

“Joy is not in things; it is in us.” — Richard Wagner

Ducks at Dawn "The scene feels like dawn distilled into a single quiet gesture. Five ducks move across a sheet of water that looks less like a lake and more like brushed metal catching first light. The surface shifts between deep blue and warm gold, as if the night and the morning are still negotiating who gets to stay. The ducks appear as dark silhouettes—clean, simple shapes gliding without hurry. Two ducks in the center drift so close that their necks lean toward one another, forming a soft, accidental heart shape. It’s subtle, the kind of moment you’d miss if you blinked, but once you notice it, the whole image feels like a small ceremony of connection. The ducks ahead and behind stretch the line into a gentle rhythm, each silhouette spaced just enough to suggest quiet companionship rather than formation. The water carries the light in long, trembling streaks, so every ripple becomes a brushstroke. Nothing in the frame is loud. It’s all restraint—shape, shadow, reflection—letting the warmth of dawn do the storytelling. The photograph feels like a breath taken before the day begins." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Jasmine in Morning Light

We were walking yesterday when we came across some Carolina jasmine (Gelsemium sempervirens), a vine with tubular yellow, five‑petaled flowers and long, narrow green leaves. They were already in bloom thanks to the warm, sunny weather. This photo shows three of the blossoms along with their surrounding leaves.

If you love flowers—or just enjoy discovering their beauty and names like I do—come explore my gallery of blooms captured in moments of wonder and curiosity.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The photograph captures a single, arching vine of Carolina jasmine held in crisp focus against a soft, blurred backdrop. The stem is a warm reddish‑brown, slender and slightly curved, almost like a brushstroke suspended in the air. Along it, narrow, glossy green leaves reach outward in alternating directions, their surfaces catching the light with a gentle sheen. Two bright yellow blossoms command the center of the frame. Each flower is shaped like a small trumpet opening toward the viewer, with five rounded petals forming a soft star. The petals glow with a saturated, sunlit yellow—rich, warm, and almost luminous—creating a striking contrast against the deep greens of the leaves and the muted background. The flowers appear delicate but confident, as if they’re quietly announcing spring." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Robin at Attention

I haven’t seen any American robins (Turdus migratorius) for quite a while, though Merlin keeps reminding me they’re still around. This is an image I took a few years ago of one looking straight back at me.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"An American robin stands squarely on a patch of early‑season grass, facing the camera with the kind of direct, unhurried confidence this species carries so naturally. Its body fills the frame, making the bird feel close enough to touch. The robin’s breast is a deep, warm orange—rich and saturated, like the color of a ripe persimmon. That bold chest meets a dark, almost charcoal‑black head, giving the bird a crisp, clean contrast. Its eyes are bright and alert, set beneath a thin white eye‑ring that reads almost like a subtle highlight. The beak is slender and yellow, pointed slightly downward as if the bird has paused mid‑stride to assess the world. The wings and back are a smooth gray, each feather lying neatly in place, creating a soft gradient from slate to smoke. The robin’s legs are thin but sturdy, gripping the mixed green‑and‑brown grass beneath it. The ground is textured—some blades upright, others flattened—suggesting a natural, lived‑in patch of earth. The background stays close and simple, keeping all attention on the bird’s posture, color, and presence. A small photographer’s signature rests in the upper corner, marking the image as a deliberate, careful capture of a familiar but striking species. The overall feeling is one of quiet readiness, as if the robin is about to hop forward, tilt its head, and listen for the faint movement of a worm beneath the soil." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🕊️🕊️🕊️

3 February 2026

Do you remember how, in the late 1960s and early 1970s, bell‑bottom trousers were just about the only thing you could buy? Even suits came with bell‑bottoms. Some brands tried to soften it by calling them “flares,” but everyone knew what they were. That was simply the way of things. Thinking about it now, I can almost hear a Bee Gees tune drifting in from somewhere. And then, almost overnight, the whole bell‑bottom craze went quiet and vanished. At least that’s how it felt to me. I was a soldier then and mostly lived in uniforms, but I owned a few pieces of civilian clothing. Looking back, the fad was here for a moment and then—poof—gone.

In the 1990s I went to a semi‑formal gathering of Sergeants Major at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. The post straddles the Tennessee–Kentucky line, though the post office sits on the Kentucky side. But back to fashion. At that gathering, old suits emerged from closets, and suddenly there they were again: bell‑bottom trousers, wide‑collar shirts, even platform shoes. Small platforms, thankfully—not the kind with goldfish swimming in the soles. It was the natural result of a room full of middle‑aged men who rarely wore civilian clothes, especially the dress‑up kind. They simply reached for whatever was hanging in the closet, unaware that the world had moved on.

Over the decades, bell‑bottoms have resurfaced now and then in women’s fashion, only to fade again. I suppose the fad could return in full force someday. That’s up to the new generations.

“Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but follows religiously the new.” — Henry David Thoreau

“The years teach much which the days never know.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Each generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the one that went before it, and wiser than the one that comes after it.” — George Orwell

Feast on the Platform "A tight cluster of rock pigeons (Columba livia) crowds around a wooden bird feeder, their bodies forming a living ring of gray, charcoal, and soft iridescent greens. The feeder itself is simple and sturdy: a square wooden platform with a clear central column filled with seed, the kind that releases food slowly as the birds eat. The pigeons stand shoulder‑to‑shoulder, so close their wings overlap like layered shingles. Most of the birds have their heads bowed, beaks buried in the scattered seed. From this angle, their neck feathers catch the light in shifting colors — a wash of green that turns violet as they move. Their bodies are plump and rounded, the slate‑gray wings edged with darker bars. Their feet, a vivid red against the pale wood, grip the feeder’s rim with a mix of balance and urgency. The scene feels intimate and bustling. You can almost hear the soft rustle of feathers, the quick tapping of beaks on wood, and the low cooing that pigeons make when they’re comfortable and focused on food. The background is blurred into warm, gentle tones, pulling all attention toward the small, communal feast at the center. The photograph carries the signature “© Swede’s Photographe” in the lower right corner, marking it as a crafted, intentional capture of everyday urban wildlife." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Pine Warbler in the Thicket

While I was clicking away at goldfinches, I happened to capture this image of a pine warbler (Setophaga pinus) tucked in among them. I didn’t even notice the chubby little bird until I reviewed the shots later. It’s not unusual in winter to see a stray warbler mixed in with the goldfinches.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A pine warbler perches among a tangle of thin branches, its small body glowing with warm yellow tones that stand out against the muted background. The bird’s breast and face are washed in a soft, golden yellow, deepening slightly toward the throat. Fine, dark streaks run down its sides, giving texture and depth to its plumage. Its wings are darker—olive and charcoal—with two crisp white wing bars that catch the light and frame the bird’s posture. The warbler’s bill is slender and pointed, built for gleaning insects from bark and needles. It grips the branch with delicate claws, steady and balanced despite the maze of twigs around it. The background melts into gentle browns and grays, making the bird appear almost luminous, as if it carries its own small pocket of sunlight into the winter woods. There’s a sense of quiet alertness in the way it holds itself—head slightly lifted, body angled forward—as though it’s listening for the next rustle of movement in the branches. The whole scene feels intimate and alive, a brief moment of brightness perched in a subdued landscape." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Through the Branches

I really like this image of a northern cardinal and a chipping sparrow. It’s a shame the sparrow decided to look away—probably tracking the cardinal’s arrival. If its head had been turned toward the camera, I might have added it to my gallery. But it is what it is. C’est la vie.

If you enjoy wildlife and nature photography, check out my photo gallery here:

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A chipping sparrow sits forward in the frame, perched lightly on a thin, leafless branch beaded with frozen droplets. Its small body is angled away, head turned just enough that you catch only the soft curve of its cheek and the faint russet cap that marks its species. The feathers along its back form a delicate pattern of warm browns and pale grays, blending into the tangle of branches around it. Beyond that lattice of twigs, softened by distance and moisture in the air, a northern cardinal approaches. Its red plumage glows through the haze like a warm ember behind frosted glass. The contrast between the sparrow’s subtle earth tones and the cardinal’s vivid presence creates a sense of depth—two birds sharing the same winter world, each holding its own quiet space within it." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛🐦‍⬛

1 February 2026

Well, we made it through January—more or less. I must have, anyway, because here I am at zero‑dark‑thirty typing about anything that isn’t politics. Believe me, I have plenty of thoughts on that front, but this isn’t the place. This is the quiet corner where I sort out life’s small quirks. The trouble is, my life has been pretty uneventful lately—which, truth be told, is exactly how I prefer it.

Take yesterday. The big excitement was a new coffee grinder arriving on the porch. The old one had stopped doing the one job it had, so I ordered the same model again. No learning curve, no surprises. Charlie and I walked down to check the mail. I took a couple of naps. I even planned to drag my dumbbells and bench into the family room to get some exercise, but I forgot. Maybe I’ll get to it this afternoon. Mornings are for coffee.

Out back, the cold weather brought in crowds of small birds—mostly chipping sparrows and goldfinches, with house sparrows, cardinals, chickadees, titmice, and the occasional warbler mixed in. I thought about sitting outside to watch them, but it was colder than I cared to tolerate. Every so often I’d open the back door for Charlie and watch him charge into the yard, sending birds skyward and squirrels scrambling for the hole under the fence.

Maybe “boring” isn’t the right word for days like these. Maybe the better word is solitude—the kind that feels earned, steady, and just right.

“Solitude helps you find peace. Peace helps you find happiness.” — Maxime Lagacé

“A table, a chair, a bowl of fruit and a violin; what else does a man need to be happy?” — Albert Einstein

“Be so fulfilled with yourself, that even when you are alone, you feel in good company.” — Irini Zoica

Crow in the Bare Tree "An American crow sits perched on a bare branch, its entire form rendered in deep silhouette against a pale, cloud‑washed sky. The bird’s shape is unmistakable: the strong, slightly arched back; the thick neck; the heavy, intelligent beak pointing outward as if testing the air. Every feather blends into a single dark outline, giving the crow a quiet, statuesque presence. The tree it rests on is leafless, its branches thin and angular, reaching in every direction like a web of ink strokes. The starkness of the branches frames the crow, making it appear both solitary and central—an anchor in an otherwise open, drifting sky. The light behind the bird is soft and muted, turning the whole scene into a study of contrast: dark against light, stillness against the slow movement of clouds. There’s a contemplative mood to the image, as if the crow is keeping watch over a quiet morning, or simply taking a moment to exist in the cold air. The simplicity of the composition makes the crow’s presence feel almost symbolic—endurance, awareness, and a touch of mystery perched on a winter branch." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Red Rose in Darkness

I studied this close view of a red rose and wondered whether I should try to tighten the focus. In the end, I realized I prefer the soft focus—it gives the rose a slightly surreal, dreamlike quality.

If you love flowers—or just enjoy discovering their beauty and names like I do—come explore my gallery of blooms captured in moments of wonder and curiosity.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A single red rose fills the frame, unfolding in a slow, deliberate spiral from its tightly curled center to its broad outer petals. The red is deep and velvety—rich enough to feel almost warm, as if the flower is lit from within. Each petal curves with a softness that suggests both strength and fragility, their edges gently lifting and folding like fabric caught in a quiet breath. The background falls away into darkness, making the rose appear almost luminous against it. With no distractions around it, the flower becomes a world unto itself—layers of crimson, each one catching a hint of light, each one shaped with natural precision. The texture is so clear you can almost imagine the cool, smooth feel of the petals under your fingertips." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Thoughtful Goldfinch

"A small goldfinch perches on the edge of a wooden surface, its body angled slightly downward as if studying something just out of view. The bird’s head and chest glow with a warm, buttery yellow, the kind of color that feels sunlit even in shade. Its wings are darker—deep charcoal and brown—broken by crisp white wing bars that look almost painted on. The contrast makes the yellow even more striking. The goldfinch’s tiny claws grip the wood with delicate precision, each toe curved and sure. The feathers along its back and wings lie in neat, layered rows, giving the bird a soft, textured look, like a finely woven fabric. Its posture is gentle and intent, as though it has paused mid‑thought. Behind the bird, the background melts into a smooth blur of muted tones, making the goldfinch stand out sharply—bright, alive, and full of quiet presence. The whole scene feels intimate, as if you’ve stepped close enough to hear the faint rustle of feathers." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Hawk in the High Light

This is a broad‑winged hawk (Buteo platypterus). I haven’t seen one recently, and I captured this image some time ago. Every time I’ve spotted one, it’s been high overhead, making it tough to get a detailed, close‑up shot.

Check out breathtaking photos of magnificent birds of prey, visit my photo gallery here:

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A broad‑winged hawk glides overhead, suspended in a clean, endless blue sky. You see it from below, as if you’re standing in a clearing and it has chosen that exact moment to pass above you. Its wings are spread wide—broad, rounded, and powerful—each feather catching the sunlight in a slightly different shade of brown, cream, and charcoal. The patterning is striking: dark bands along the trailing edges of the wings, pale mottling across the chest and belly, and a tail marked with bold, even stripes that look almost painted on. The hawk’s body is compact and muscular, built for soaring on rising air. From this angle, the bird feels both close and unreachable—its silhouette sharp, its motion effortless. There’s a sense of quiet authority in the way it holds itself aloft, as though the sky belongs to it alone. The simplicity of the background, nothing but blue, makes the hawk’s details even more vivid: the layered feathers, the barred tail, the subtle curve of the wings as they adjust to invisible currents. It’s a moment of stillness and motion at once—an intimate glimpse of a wild creature doing exactly what it was made to do." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🌼🌼🌼

30 January 2026

I want to go walking this morning, but I also want to stay warm. It’s definitely not casual‑walking weather. And here I am, talking about the weather again. I’d rather talk about anything except the news, which is distressing and depressing, though I suppose the weather technically counts as news.

These days I can get everything I need by glancing at the bottom corner of my computer screen or checking my phone. It makes me wonder how we kept up with the weather in the before‑time, before all the gadgets we take for granted now. I spent most of those years in the Army, so half the time I was already outside in it. Otherwise, you looked out the window. If you wanted more detail, you waited for the newspaper, the radio, or the evening TV report. The military had its own weather people, of course, but the simplest thing was to pick up the daily paper. For me, overseas, that meant the Stars and Stripes.

I grabbed a copy every morning, if for no other reason than to read the latest Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson. Those strips were often the most profound thing I’d see all day. As for the weather, I’d glance at it, but it didn’t matter much. The weather was going to do whatever it wanted, whether I knew about it or not, and I was going to be wherever the Army needed me, doing whatever needed doing. That’s the way it is in uniform—sometimes you’re just wet and cold.

“There is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.” — John Ruskin

“Technology is a useful servant but a dangerous master.” — Christian Lous Lange

“It’s not denial. I’m just selective about the reality I accept.” — Bill Watterson

Circle of Daisies "A tight cluster of oxeye daisies fills the frame like a small constellation brought down to earth. Each blossom is a bright, open face: a sun‑yellow center textured like fine velvet, surrounded by a perfect ring of slender white petals that radiate outward with quiet confidence. The petals overlap slightly from flower to flower, creating a sense of abundance—almost as if the daisies are leaning in toward one another. The white petals catch the light in soft, uneven ways, revealing faint ridges and gentle curves, like tiny strokes of a paintbrush. The yellow centers glow warmly, their surfaces dotted with countless tiny florets that give them a subtle, grainy richness. Behind the flowers, deep green leaves form a cool, shadowed backdrop. Their darker tones make the daisies appear even brighter, almost luminous. The overall impression is one of freshness and vitality—an uncomplicated beauty that feels both wild and tender, as if the flowers were gathered in a meadow at the height of spring." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Caw of the Summit

This American crow (Corvus brachyrhynchos) paused atop the tallest pine in the forest, silhouetted against the sky like a sentinel carved from shadow. It lingered for several minutes before lifting off again, wings slicing the air with quiet precision. What drew it to that high perch? Perhaps it was scouting the terrain, surveying its domain with the keen eye of a strategist. Or maybe it was simply resting, letting the wind speak through the needles below.

If you're enchanted by images of American crows and other captivating corvids, dive into my photo gallery for a visual treat! Take a peek:

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The image captures an American crow perched confidently atop a pine tree, its jet-black feathers gleaming with subtle iridescence under the midday sun. The crow faces left, its sharp beak and intelligent eye silhouetted against a flawless blue sky. Each feather seems polished, catching light in a way that reveals hints of midnight blue and charcoal. The pine needles beneath it are vivid green, their spiky texture contrasting with the crow’s smooth, sleek plumage. The bird’s posture is alert yet composed, as if surveying its domain with quiet authority. The simplicity of the background—just sky and pine—amplifies the crow’s presence, making it feel like a sentinel of the forest, poised between shadow and light." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Flight Past the Shark Shack

We were in Galveston, Texas a while back, and I found myself standing on a corner watching gulls swoop and glide through the sky. Naturally, I had my camera ready. I caught this laughing gull (Leucophaeus atricilla) soaring down the street, just about to cross through the intersection. As it passed overhead, it happened to fly right by a restaurant called The Shark Shack.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The image captures a laughing gull in mid-flight, its wings fully extended in a graceful arc. The bird’s body is streamlined, with its head slightly tilted forward and its black hood sharply contrasting against the white underparts and gray wings. Its beak, slender and slightly curved, points ahead like a compass needle. The gull’s flight feels deliberate and buoyant, suspended in a moment of motion that’s both powerful and serene. Behind the gull, the backdrop shifts to human terrain—a building with bold signage reading “SHARK SHACK BEACH BAR & GRILL.” The words “seafood + burger + beer” and “HAPPY HOUR 3–6PM DAILY” add a splash of casual coastal energy. The signage is slightly blurred, emphasizing the gull’s crisp silhouette and drawing attention to the contrast between wild flight and built environment. The photo credit, “Swede’s Photographs,” anchors the image in authorship, but the gull remains the sovereign subject—aloof, airborne, and unbothered by the buzz below." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning ❄️🐦❄️

28 January 2026

It’s once again several degrees below cold this morning, and the weather has finally claimed my lawn. It had been holding on with scattered patches of green, but now it’s surrendered to a uniform winter brown. No complaints here—just a hundred miles north, I suspect the ground wears a full winter blanket.

I could say the cold has me stuck at home, but that wouldn’t be entirely accurate. I rarely leave the house anyway. That said, I did venture out Monday afternoon for a pharmacy run.

Pharmacy runs become routine for folks of a certain age. I’m not sure if the frequency is the same across the country, but I’d bet most doctors stick to the 90-day supply model. The trick is syncing them up—refilling everything at once to save trips. Of course, there’s always that one prescription with a string of 30-day refills that throws off the rhythm. The downside to the “line them all up” strategy is becoming that guy—the one who walks away from the pharmacy window with a grocery bag full of meds. The move is to turn and leave like it’s nothing unusual. Everyone gets a bag full, right? Nobody’s paying attention anyway—they’re just waiting for their own moment at the window.

One good development: pharmacy procedures have gotten pretty streamlined. No more waiting hours for your name or number to be called. My doctor sends prescriptions electronically, and I can hop in line online and wait for the pharmacy to ping me when it’s ready. If I time it right—off-peak hours—it’s usually in and out.

In the end, it’s just winter doing what winter does—slowing the pace, tightening the circle, and reminding me that even the smallest routines carry their own kind of weather.

I like these cold, gray winter days. Days like these let you savor a bad mood.” — Bill Watterson

“Aging seems to be the only available way to live a long life.” — Kitty O’Neill Collins

Behind the Iceveil "The image captures a quiet, wintry moment where the northern cardinal is more suggestion than spectacle. The camera’s focus rests on the foreground: a tangle of slender, leafless branches glazed with droplets or ice, each one catching the light like tiny glass beads. These branches dominate the frame, crisp and intricate, forming a lattice of silvery lines that veil the scene. Behind this shimmering curtain, the cardinal appears—just a splash of red, blurred and softened by the shallow depth of field. Its presence is unmistakable, a warm ember glowing in the cold. Though out of focus, the bird’s posture hints at alertness, perched and still, its color burning through the muted palette of gray and brown. The contrast between the sharp, icy branches and the soft, distant red evokes a sense of longing, as if the viewer is peering through a frosted window at something just out of reach. The atmosphere is hushed and contemplative, the kind of moment that feels suspended in time—where the world is quiet, and beauty hides in the margins." - Microsoft Copilot and the photographer
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Red-Tailed Reconnaissance

A red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) soared high overhead yesterday, its broad wings catching the light as it circled a few times—likely scanning for prey. The sky was clear, and the hawk’s reddish tail flared against the blue as it drifted past. My backyard tends to draw a crowd of birds, and this visitor added a touch of wild majesty to the usual bustle.

Check out breathtaking photos of magnificent birds of prey, visit my photo gallery here:

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The red-tailed hawk soars midair against a flawless blue sky, its wings stretched wide in a commanding display of power and grace. Each feather is etched with detail—dark bars and mottled patterns that ripple like brushstrokes across the wings. The underbelly glows pale, almost ivory, contrasting with the rich, rust-colored tail that fans out like a flame. Sunlight catches the hawk’s plumage, casting subtle shadows that emphasize its muscular form and aerodynamic poise. Its head is slightly turned, eyes sharp and focused, as if scanning the earth below with sovereign intent. The hawk’s posture is both elegant and fierce—an emblem of wild precision suspended in motion." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Winter Assembly

I snapped this image this morning of one of my bird feeders. Cold weather drives birds to seek extra energy, and they flock to the feeders when it’s low. Clearly, I need to refill this one. But it’s chilly out there—and since I took the photo through the glass of my storm door while wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt, I’m not stepping outside just yet.

Discover nature's fleeting moments through my lens—visit my photo gallery to see more.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A rustic wooden bird feeder stands at the center of the scene, its slanted roof fringed with icicles that glisten like frozen lace. The feeder’s weathered wood and foggy, dirt-streaked windows evoke the quiet resilience of winter. Perched boldly in front are two northern cardinals—one male, a blaze of crimson against the muted tones, and one female, softer in tawny brown with hints of red. Their stout bodies and upright crests give them a regal, watchful presence. Above and around the feeder, two chipping sparrows dart midair, wings outstretched in a blur of motion. Their small, streaked bodies and rusty caps add a flicker of energy to the stillness. On the far left corner of the feeder’s backside, a house finch clings to the edge, its plumage a gentle mix of rose and brown, head tilted as if surveying the scene. Through the cloudy windows of the feeder, the faint silhouettes of two more birds emerge—ghostlike shadows, barely discernible, suggesting quiet movement within. The entire tableau is framed by the hush of cold air and the soft light of a winter morning, capturing a moment of communal gathering and survival." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 😴🥱☕

26 January 2026

I’m up extra early this morning. Woke a little before four, got a drink of water, laid back down — but sleep wasn’t coming. So I got up again and let Charlie out into the backyard. Figured I’d kick back in the recliner for a bit, but it was clear sleep wasn’t in the cards, so I came in here. It happens like that now and then.

It’s cold this morning for Louisiana — 22°F. No wonder Charlie didn’t want to stay outside long. We had a bit of snow yesterday, just enough to dust the rooftops and evergreen trees. Mostly it rained, though, so I imagine schools and such are closed today out of caution for icy roads. The frozen water kind of ice. Folks around here aren’t exactly skilled at driving on slick pavement.

Icy roads should make things interesting at the two relatively new traffic circles in town. Even in good weather, some people struggle with those. You can almost see the gears turning: Do I go or wait? What does that big triangle mean? Are the cars in the circle supposed to let me in? It’s understandable — not everyone’s well traveled.

That brings me to a thought: there are people in this country who’ve never ventured far from home. Some haven’t even left their own state. And when you think about it, that explains a lot. Without exposure to different places and lives, all you know is what’s around you — where everyone’s circumstances look the same. Which reminds me of one of my sayings:
You only know what you know, and you don’t know what you don’t know.

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.” - George Eliot

“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.” - Hal Borland:

“Everybody is ignorant, only on different subjects.” - Will Rogers

“We don’t see things as they are; we see them as we are.” - Anaïs Nin

Whispering Plumes "The image captures a serene cluster of pampas grass, tall and elegant, with feathery plumes that rise like soft, wind-stirred torches. Each plume is a delicate brush of light tan and cream, their fibers fine and wispy, catching the air as if mid-whisper. They sway gently, not in chaos but in rhythm — a quiet choreography against a backdrop of lush green foliage, which frames the scene with depth and contrast. The grasses stand tall, some arching slightly, their stems slender but sturdy. The light seems to soften as it touches them, giving the plumes a silken glow, like the down of a bird or the fringe of a well-worn shawl. There’s no sky in view — only the intimacy of the grasses and the green behind them, creating a sense of enclosure, like a hidden garden or a quiet corner of a field. The overall mood is gentle, ornamental, and timeless, with the grasses offering both structure and softness. It’s a portrait of stillness in motion — nature’s way of being dramatic without shouting." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Firey Sky

The sky on the day I took this image was vivid at dusk—deep blue at the top, fading into red, orange, yellow, and a pale whitish gold near the horizon. The ambient light in the backyard glowed with a warm, golden hue.

For those who love skies set ablaze with color—sunsets that linger, clouds that speak in texture and light—my gallery holds a collection crafted just for you.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The sky in this image is a breathtaking canvas of color, layered like a dream in motion. At the top, deep blue stretches across the heavens—cool, quiet, and vast. Beneath it, the blue melts into rich purples and electric pinks, like velvet touched by fire. Lower still, the horizon glows with molten orange and golden yellow, radiating warmth as if the sun itself is exhaling light. Clouds scatter across the sky in textured wisps and bold streaks, catching the colors and amplifying them—some glowing like embers, others shadowed like smoke. The gradient is dramatic and surreal, a symphony of hues that feels both cosmic and intimate. At the bottom edge of the image, silhouettes of trees and a few structures stand in quiet contrast. Their dark outlines anchor the scene, reminding us of the earth beneath this celestial spectacle. The trees are bare or sparse, their branches reaching upward like quiet witnesses to the sky’s performance. This is a moment suspended between worlds—neither day nor night, but something in between. It feels like the sky is telling a story, and the land is listening." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Tan with a Touch of Fire

I don't particularly care for the way this image of a female northern cardinal (scientific name) turned out. The original was too noisy, and I couldn't quite get it all smoothed out. But I thought the way her crest kind of leans sassily to one side and wanted to share.

northern cardinals and other members of the Cardinalidae family—better known as the cardinal family—step into my photo gallery for a visual feast. Come take a look:

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"Perched quietly on a weathered wooden surface, the female Northern Cardinal holds a gentle, dignified pose. Her body is angled slightly forward, crest raised like a soft flame of feathers atop her head. Her plumage is a warm blend of buff tan and soft brown, with subtle washes of reddish-orange brushing her wings and tail—like the last light of sunset caught in motion. Her beak is a bold orange, smooth and conical, standing out like a polished gem against the muted tones of her face. The background is a soft blur of green, likely foliage, rendered in a way that makes her form pop with clarity. The texture of her feathers is visible even in stillness—fine, layered, and slightly ruffled at the edges, as if she’s just settled from flight. Her eye is dark and round, alert but calm, giving her an air of quiet watchfulness. There’s no clutter, no distraction—just the bird, the perch, and the soft green hush behind her. This is not a moment of action, but of presence. She is still, but not passive. She holds the space with quiet authority, like a sentinel of the morning." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. ☀️🌤️🌥️

24 January 2025

A storm is coming. I mean literally—a storm is coming. In fact, I think it might already be here. It’s still above freezing where I am, but the weather app says sleet for the next hour. I don’t see it yet, not exactly, but it’s supposed to get colder as the day goes on, with precipitation throughout the afternoon and evening. Ha—yes, I meant precipitation, but sometimes I like to use the wrong word just to keep things human. Speaking of participation, I think we’re right near the southern edge of that massive system sweeping through the center of the country today. It would be nice if we opted out of the precipitation promised for today and tomorrow.

The last ice storm we had was three or four years ago, and the power was out for nearly a week. We had a generator, but there was a snafu with the gas company, so getting the tank refilled was a challenge. We lost water service as well, even though we’re not on a well. Hmm. That joke didn’t land well. These days, we’re sort of prepared. We’ve got a generator and a full, larger propane tank to keep the electricity going. We go through a lot just to avoid struggling through events like this. I guess you could say we struggle not to struggle.

Anyway, I don’t think non-participation is an option this time. The sky is supposed to perspire all day and all night—and then do it all over again tomorrow. Fortunately, the forecast says we won’t hit freezing until Sunday morning. That’s when the real trouble starts.

“We can’t direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.” — Dolly Parton

“If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.” — Woody Allen

“The trouble with weather forecasting is that it’s right too often for us to ignore it and wrong too often for us to rely on it.” — Patrick Young

Caribbean Glow "The image captures a breathtaking moment where the Caribbean sea meets the sky in a symphony of light and color. The sun, low on the horizon, is partially veiled by soft, scattered clouds that glow with molten gold and amber. Its warm light spills across the sky, blending into streaks of tangerine, coral, and dusky lavender. The ocean below mirrors this celestial palette, its surface shimmering with ripples of orange and yellow, like liquid fire gently stirred by the breeze. The water stretches out endlessly, calm and expansive, with no land in sight—just the vast embrace of sea and sky. The horizon is a gentle curve, where the glowing heavens kiss the reflective sea. The mood is serene, almost sacred, as if the world is pausing to breathe in the beauty of day's end. The air feels warm and salt-laced, and the silence is broken only by the soft lapping of waves." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Mr. Ben

This is my Ben during one of our walks some time ago. He was a black and tan terrier mix with the general features of a Yorkshire terrier—though larger, with floppy ears. In this photo, his face and legs are a soft tan, while his body is mostly silver-grey. He had a stubby tail, long eyebrows, and a little beard shaped by his groomer. His nose was black, and his expression, as always, was quietly attentive.

My photo gallery features over 1400 carefully selected images. While most are chosen for their visual appeal, a few stand out as novelty shots. Feel free to explore my gallery at:

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A small dog stands alert in a forested clearing, its curly coat a soft blend of light gray and white that catches the muted daylight filtering through the trees. The fur around its face is slightly tousled, giving it a gentle, expressive look. Its ears perk forward, and its gaze is fixed to the right, as if something unseen has piqued its curiosity. Around its neck is a black collar with a red trim, adorned with dangling tags that glint faintly. The ground beneath its paws is a textured carpet of pine needles, dry leaves, and scattered tufts of green grass—suggesting late autumn or early winter. The backdrop is quiet and earthy, with tree trunks and underbrush forming a natural frame around the dog’s poised figure. The scene feels both intimate and wild, a moment of stillness in nature with the dog as its attentive sentinel." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Crimson Canvas

This is a goldfinch (Spinus tristis). I’m not sure what’s causing the reddish tint in the background. There’s a brick-red shed nearby, but I can’t think of any branch that would offer a line of sight with the shed behind it.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A small bird perches quietly on a slender branch, its posture upright and alert. The background is a soft blur of warm tones—muted golds, gentle browns, and hints of gray—that make the bird’s vivid coloring stand out like a flame in still air. This is an American Goldfinch, captured in exquisite detail. Its face and throat glow with a rich yellow, like sunlight caught in feathers. The body fades into soft beige and white, giving the bird a gentle, rounded appearance. Its wings are a striking contrast—black with crisp white markings that slice through the darkness like tiny flashes of light. The beak is small and conical, perfect for seed-cracking, and its eye is sharp, dark, and watchful. The branch curves beneath it, slender and bare, offering just enough support for this delicate visitor. The bird’s feet grip lightly, claws curled around the bark with practiced ease. There’s a sense of quiet in the image—no wind, no motion—just the goldfinch, poised and present, like a note held in stillness." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🌻🌻🌻

22 January 2026

I just finished reading The Widow by John Grisham. I’m a longtime Grisham fan and enjoyed the book, though I wouldn’t call it his best. That’s just my take, of course—someone else might consider it his finest work. The story centers on an aging, enigmatic widow who claims to have millions in assets and wants a new will. As in many Grisham novels, a struggling lawyer finds himself pulled into the middle of it all. He agrees to draft the will, imagining the financial rewards ahead, but a sudden murder upends every expectation.

The novel unfolds as a classic whodunit, a mystery designed to keep you guessing. I thought the character development was strong, especially for the main players, and the storyline held my interest from start to finish. The ending, though, felt a bit abrupt and left me wondering how well the lawyer ultimately landed—and what Grisham wanted us to make of that unresolved note.

I won’t say anything more, for fear of spoiling the book for anyone who might decide to pick it up.

My next read is a recent release from Dean Koontz, another favorite of mine. I can’t recall the title at the moment—it’s sitting on my nightstand at the other end of the house—but I’m looking forward to diving in. Koontz never disappoints. I just hope I didn’t accidentally pick up one I’ve already read, which is entirely possible given how many of his books I’ve gone through. I’m fairly sure it’s a newer release, though. I bought it a while back, and it’s been waiting patiently in a short queue of books to read.

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies.” — George R.R. Martin

“Not all those who wander are lost.” — J.R.R. Tolkien

“To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life.” — W. Somerset Maugham

Wildflower Glow "A small cluster of bright yellow flowers fills the foreground, each bloom glowing as if lit from within. The petals are smooth and delicate, arranged in a loose circle around centers of deep reddish‑orange that look almost painted on. Some blossoms are fully open, spreading their yellow rays outward, while others remain in tight buds—green, rounded, and waiting their turn. The flowers rise on slender green stems that curve gently, giving the whole cluster a sense of lightness and motion, as though a soft breeze has just passed through. Behind them, the world fades into a blur of muted greens and grays, making the flowers stand out with even more intensity. The contrast between the sharp, vivid blooms and the softened background creates a feeling of intimacy, as if the viewer has leaned in close to admire them. These are Coreopsis tinctoria, also known as plains coreopsis or golden tickseed—a wildflower known for its cheerful two‑tone petals and airy, dancing posture. The image carries a sense of warmth, delicacy, and quiet joy, like a small burst of summer held still for a moment." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Feathered Fluff

This chubby little sanderling (Calidris alba) caught my eye at Gulfport, Mississippi—plump, poised, and perfectly beachbound.

Discover nature's fleeting moments through my lens—visit my photo gallery to see more.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A small shorebird stands poised on coarse sand, its delicate frame balanced atop slender black legs. This is a sanderling, captured in a moment of quiet stillness. Its plumage is a soft mosaic: the underside and face are clean white, while the back and wings are mottled with earthy browns and pale grays, like wind‑brushed dunes. The feathers appear slightly tousled, as if the bird has just stepped out of a gusty shoreline breeze. Its beak is short, straight, and black—perfect for probing wet sand in search of tiny invertebrates. The bird’s posture is alert but unhurried, angled slightly forward as if considering its next step or listening to the rhythm of the tide. The background is a wash of sandy texture, sunlit and grainy, with no water in sight but the coast clearly implied. The overall mood is one of quiet resilience—a creature built for motion, pausing just long enough to be seen." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Rust and Reverie

In early spring or sometimes late fall, I occasionally catch sight of rusty blackbirds (Euphagus carolinus). I have to be lucky—they pause only for a moment in the oak and pine trees around my yard before moving on to wherever their mysterious route leads.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The image captures a solitary rusty blackbird perched on a bare branch, its body angled slightly sideways as if pausing mid-thought. The bird’s plumage is a rich, glossy black, but under the morning light it shimmers with subtle hues of blue, violet, and charcoal, like oil on water. Its beak is sharp and slightly curved, and its eye—round, pale, and alert—gleams with quiet intensity, giving the impression that it’s watching something just beyond the frame. The background is a tangle of leafless branches, etched like veins against a bright, wintry sky. There’s no foliage to soften the scene—just the stark geometry of limbs and the crisp light of a cold season. The bird’s feathers appear slightly ruffled, as if it’s bracing against a chill breeze or preparing to take flight. The overall mood is quiet, contemplative, and slightly mysterious—like a moment suspended between stillness and motion. The photograph is signed “© Swede’s Photographs” in the bottom right corner, a gentle nod to the witness behind the lens." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🕊️🕊️🕊️

20 January 2026
When I got up this morning and let Charlie out the back door, I spotted a huge dark bird perched high in a treetop at the edge of the forest, maybe a hundred meters away. My camera was only a couple of feet from me, so I grabbed it and aimed, but the moment I snapped the shot the lens slipped out of focus. By the time I tried for a second image, the bird had vanished. An expletive escaped my mouth—directed squarely at the bird—for slipping my lens so cleanly.

It was probably just a vulture, though I’ve never seen one in that particular tree. I’m fairly sure it wasn’t a large hawk; the small birds in my backyard were still busy at the feeders, and if a hawk were around the place would have gone silent. It was too big for a crow, maybe big enough for a raven, but we don’t have ravens here. For all I know, it could have been a winged monkey, because the single image I managed is nothing but an out‑of‑focus dark blotch. C’est la vie. 🤷‍♂️

This afternoon an electrician is coming to move the electrical outlet behind the stove. Between the thickness of the plug, the outlet’s protrusion, and the placement of the stove’s rear vent, I can’t push the stove close enough to the wall to fully open the drawer beside it—the oven handle blocks it. If I calculated the cost of the job based on gaining just half an inch of clearance, it comes out to more than a thousand dollars per inch. Holy moly 😱. But I want it done, and I’m not about to experiment with 250 volts in the name of DIY enlightenment.

“Hope is the thing with feathers.” - Emily Dickinson

"It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work." - Wendell Berry

“The world is before you and you need not take it or leave it as it was when you came in.” - James Baldwin

Skybound Script "Nine rock pigeons arc across a pale gray sky, each frozen mid-flight in a different pose—wings flared, tucked, or angled like sails catching invisible wind. Their bodies are rendered in stark black and white, revealing the layered texture of feathers and the muscular grace of motion. Some birds tilt upward, others drift downward, creating a scattered rhythm that feels both spontaneous and deliberate. The background is smooth and featureless, like a blank canvas, allowing the pigeons’ silhouettes to speak with quiet authority. Their arrangement evokes a sense of movement and direction, like a flock navigating unseen currents or a phrase written in airborne script. The image hums with restrained energy—motion suspended, a moment of collective flight etched in grayscale." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Tallow Trees, A Twist on Tradition

This is a stand of Chinese tallow trees, photographed in late summer or early fall. The leaves were originally green, but I experimented with the color settings until they glowed with a rich orange hue. The transformation feels right—I like the way it turned out.

If you love flowers—or just enjoy discovering their beauty and names like I do—come explore my gallery of blooms captured in moments of wonder and curiosity.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A Chinese tallow tree unfurls its heart-shaped leaves like golden lanterns against a backdrop of shadow and flame. Each leaf glows with a buttery yellow hue, some tinged with hints of orange, as if kissed by firelight. The leaves cluster densely, their smooth surfaces catching the light like polished coins, while the surrounding branches—bare and skeletal—frame the scene with quiet contrast. The background is a surreal wash of deep black, molten reds, and ember-like oranges, creating a dreamlike atmosphere where the tree seems to hover between autumn and myth. The composition is bold and stylized, as if nature were rendered in stained glass or painted with molten pigment. The image pulses with warmth and mystery, turning a simple tree into a radiant emblem of seasonal transformation." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Crimson Star

This photograph features a vibrant red sweetgum leaf in its autumn phase, shaped like a crisp five-pointed star. It remains attached to a weathered, rustic branch and appears solitary at first glance. However, the framing is intentional—the leaf is one among hundreds, artfully cropped to evoke the quiet dignity of a lone witness to seasonal change.

If you love flowers—or just enjoy discovering their beauty and names like I do—come explore my gallery of blooms captured in moments of wonder and curiosity.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The image captures a single sweetgum leaf in brilliant red, resting delicately on a slender branch. Its five-pointed star shape is crisp and symmetrical, each lobe tapering to a fine tip like outstretched fingers. The leaf’s surface glows with saturated crimson, veined with darker rivulets that trace its structure like a hand-drawn map. Its edges are slightly serrated, giving a textured silhouette against the soft blur of the forest backdrop. Behind it, the background dissolves into muted browns and grays—twigs, distant leaves, and forest floor—rendered in gentle blur, allowing the leaf to command full attention. The lighting is natural and gentle, highlighting the leaf’s glossy sheen and the subtle shadows along its veins. The composition feels reverent, as if the leaf were a ceremonial emblem held aloft in quiet tribute to autumn’s final breath." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🌊🐚🪸

18 January 2026

"I don’t want to sound like a broken record, but I really do need to straighten up my office. It’s out of control again. Computers and stray parts are scattered across my old desk, mixed in with cameras and whatever else has migrated there. Papers of every imaginable origin are waiting for some kind of decision, and a new stack of books has begun forming on the floor beside the bookcase—right where the last one used to be.

I don’t think it’s pure laziness, though that plays its part. It’s more that clutter just doesn’t bother me the way it once did. There was a time when the sight of a messy room would make me cringe and immediately start straightening. Now I look at it and think… eh. The good thing about this new attitude is that there’s always tomorrow, and whatever needs straightening will still be there. The bad thing is that whatever needs straightening will still be there—probably with one new thing added to the pile.

In my defense, I stay pretty busy. Even now, while I’m typing this, I’m contemplating a well‑deserved nap. Charlie usually gives me an hour or so to handle that task; truthfully, I suspect he naps too. And then there’s the TV—if I’m foolish enough to turn it on, I find myself trapped in the recliner, nearly prone and unable to move. That chair is eerily magical, a universe unto itself, with the rest of creation swirling around it. It takes almost cosmic strength to break the spell and pull myself free. The urge to use the bathroom works too.' - Microsoft Copilot

“Clutter is nothing more than postponed decisions.” — Barbara Hemphill

“You can do anything, but not everything.” — David Allen

“Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.” — Roger Caras

Blade Over Water "The image captures a Black Skimmer (Rynchops niger) in a moment of exquisite precision and grace. The bird is mid-flight, wings outstretched like twin blades slicing through the air—long, narrow, and sharply angled, with black upperparts and white undersides that shimmer against the rippled water below. Its most striking feature, the vivid orange-and-black bill, is open just enough for the elongated lower mandible to skim the water’s surface. This feeding technique—unique among North American birds—creates a subtle wake, a liquid signature trailing behind the bird like a calligraphic stroke. The water itself is textured with gentle ripples, reflecting soft light and movement, while the skimmer’s reflection flickers faintly beneath it. The bird’s head is slightly tilted downward, eyes focused, body taut with purpose. The composition is symmetrical and dynamic, emphasizing motion, balance, and the quiet drama of survival. The watermark “© Swede’s Photographs” rests unobtrusively in the top left corner, a quiet nod to the witness behind the lens." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Hilltop Plover

I saw this killdeer (Charadrius vociferus) perched on a hilltop overlooking a lake in Texas.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"The killdeer stands alert on a patch of sunlit grass, its slender body angled slightly forward as if poised for motion. Its plumage is a striking contrast of earthy brown across the back and wings, crisp white underparts, and two bold black bands slicing across its chest like ceremonial sashes. A delicate white ring encircles its neck, while a vivid red ring around its dark eye gives the bird a look of fierce clarity — a sentinel in feathers. The background is bright, almost washed out, which throws the bird into sharp relief, like a figure stepping forward from myth. Every feather is etched with precision, and the killdeer’s long legs and upright posture lend it a dignified, almost heraldic presence. The image feels like a moment of stillness before flight — a sovereign pause in the open field." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. ☕☕☕

16 January 2026

I went to the dentist yesterday to have my two front teeth worked on. A couple of weeks late if all I wanted for Christmas were my two front teeth 😆. Nothing dramatic—just fillings. My wife and I both carry dental insurance, so I walked out with my wallet still intact.

While I was in the chair, the dentist insisted on nitrous oxide because my blood pressure was running a little high. First time I’ve ever used it. I don’t know why I always said no before—probably some macho notion that I needed to “tough it out.” If I were truly that tough, I guess I would’ve said, “Skip the nitrous, skip the anesthetic, and hand me the drill” 😂.

One thing that always gets me in a dentist’s office is the sound of the drill. It hits the same spine‑tingling frequency as fingernails on a chalkboard 😱. My hearing aids seem specially engineered to pick up and amplify every annoying noise. I meant to turn them off before we started, but forgot. C’est la vie.

Not so long ago, I would’ve slipped away from work for the appointment and headed straight back afterward. Now? I declared a personal holiday and took a nap in my recliner. That’s the problem with being able to do what you want when you want—you actually can.

I recently poured a new driveway, and there’s a chunk of concrete from the old one sitting along the path to the mailbox. It’s not large, and I don’t need to move it, but every time I pass it, instead of tossing it into the brush, I tell myself I’ll get to it later. I have time to do or not to do—that is the question.

“Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what the hell happened.” — Jennifer Yane

“Blessed are they who hold lively conversations with the helplessly mute, for they shall be called dentists.” — Ann Landers

“It’s not that I’m so smart, it’s just that I stay with problems longer.” — Albert Einstein

Sunburst Offering "A single pot marigold blooms in radiant splendor, its petals a blaze of deep orange—each one narrow, slightly curled, and layered like the ruffled edge of a ceremonial robe. The flower’s center is a dark, textured disc, almost velvety, anchoring the fiery halo of petals that radiate outward in perfect symmetry. The petals are densely packed, forming a full, rounded blossom that seems to glow against the soft blur of green and brown in the background. The lighting captures the fine ridges and folds of each petal, revealing their delicate structure and the subtle gradient from golden orange at the tips to a richer, ember-like hue near the center. The image feels intimate, as if the flower is leaning forward to be seen, its botanical architecture both humble and regal. In the top right corner, the signature “© Swede’s Photographs” marks the image with quiet reverence." - Microsoft Copilot
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Swede1952 OP ,
@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar

@npub1nn5nvc2mpfu5fnzyfkthqqcha@momostr.pink

Thanks, Jason

@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Tufted Titmouse, A Crest Above the Rest

One afternoon, while sitting in the backyard with my dog Charlie, I spotted a Tufted Titmouse (Baeolophus bicolor) perched nearby.

Tufted titmice are a favorite among a select group of bird enthusiasts. To celebrate these charming creatures, I’ve curated a special collection dedicated entirely to them in my photo gallery. Take a look!

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A Tufted Titmouse (Baeolophus bicolor) perches with quiet poise on a slender tree branch, its small frame alert and balanced. The bird’s soft gray upperparts blend gently into the muted tones of the bark, while its white underbelly glows faintly in the filtered light. A subtle wash of orange graces its flanks like a whispered accent. Its most striking feature—the crest—rises like a delicate plume, giving the bird a dignified silhouette. A dark eye, round and gleaming, anchors its expression, framed by a faint black arc that curves across its face like a thoughtful brushstroke. The feathers are smooth and neatly layered, catching the light in soft gradients. Behind the bird, the background blurs into a gentle wash of greens and browns, allowing the Titmouse to stand in crisp relief—an emblem of stillness and attentiveness in the forest’s quiet theater." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Pelican Geometry

I saw a flock of brown pelicans (Pelecanus occidentalis) flying in formation over Tybee Island near Savannah, Georgia.

If you enjoy wildlife and nature photography, check out my photo gallery here:

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"Twelve brown pelicans soar in a crisp V-formation across a sky brushed with soft clouds. Their wings are outstretched, wide and steady, catching the air like sails. Each bird holds its place in the angled line; a living geometry etched against the pale blue canvas. The pelicans appear large and deliberate, their long beaks pointing forward, their bodies streamlined for flight. The V-shape slices diagonally across the frame, suggesting motion, coordination, and quiet power. The clouds behind them are scattered and gentle, offering contrast without distraction—like a stage curtain pulled back to reveal the choreography of migration. The image feels both serene and purposeful, a moment of natural order suspended in midair. In the bottom left corner, the watermark “© Swede’s Photographs” marks the scene as a captured ritual." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. 🦆🪿🦢

14 January 2026

I often find myself wondering why some people can’t wrap their heads around concepts that seem completely obvious. I’ve got a saying for it: “We’re not all issued the same toolkit.” I don’t claim to be the smartest guy in the room, but I’m still amazed at how often I’ve watched people struggle with things that feel straightforward. Education plays a role, sure, but it doesn’t fully account for what I’ve seen.

Take natural selection, for example. I don’t have much formal education in biology, yet the basic logic of natural selection—survival of the fittest—has always made sense to me. It isn’t hard to grasp how tiny changes, stretched across vast spans of time, can accumulate and produce new species. Once you see that mechanism, you can’t unsee it. And yet some people, as I’ve said, just don’t get it… or maybe they refuse to.

I’m not trying to wander into theology, but belief systems absolutely shape this particular conversation. For many folks, understanding evolution feels like betraying their faith, so they choose not to understand. I’ve seen it firsthand—students in college biology classes arguing with the instructor, practically ready to cover their ears and hum just to avoid hearing the explanation. I’m exaggerating, but only a little. People get emotional about this stuff.

C’est la vie. What can you do.

“Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” — Carl Jung

“Just because you don’t understand it doesn’t mean it isn’t so.” — Lemony Snicket

“Evolution is one of the shattering ideas that overturns past hopes and assumptions.” — Stephen Jay Gould

“Ignorance more frequently begets confidence than does knowledge.” — Charles Darwin

Where the Flock Goes "A lively procession of ducks and geese moves across a sunlit grassy field, their bodies angled in the same direction as if drawn by a shared instinct or silent signal. The flock is a patchwork of plumage—some birds are pure white, others deep black, and many wear mottled coats of gray, brown, or cream. Their feathers catch the morning light, revealing soft textures and subtle iridescence. Shadows stretch behind them, long and gentle, anchoring their movement to the earth. The grass beneath is lush and uneven, dotted with tufts and dips that ripple like a green quilt. The birds walk with purpose—some with heads held high, others pecking or glancing sideways—yet the overall motion feels unified, like a slow, deliberate migration or a communal march. In the bottom corner, the photographer’s credit, “© Swede’s Photographs,” marks the image as a captured moment of quiet ceremony." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Rose of a Different Color

This is a rose—but let’s call it a rose of a different color. The original photo captured an orange bloom, but what remains is a yellow-orange flower streaked with red, pink, and hints of blue where the shadows settle. Around it swirls a kaleidoscope of color, transforming the scene into something more dreamlike than botanical.

If you love flowers—or just enjoy discovering their beauty and names like I do—come explore my gallery of blooms captured in moments of wonder and curiosity.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A single yellow rose blooms at the center of the image, its petals unfolding like flames caught mid-dance. The flower’s golden hue is deepened by streaks of red that ripple through the folds, giving it the look of something both tender and fierce—like sunlight filtered through stained glass. The petals curl and layer with a painterly softness, their edges glowing as if lit from within. Surrounding the rose are stylized leaves, some rendered in grayscale, others bursting with unexpected color—teal, violet, hints of orange. The background is a swirl of abstract shapes and multicolored patterns, like a dreamscape or a stained canvas. It’s not a garden, but a visual symphony where the rose is both soloist and centerpiece. The image feels digitally enhanced, yet the emotion it evokes is organic: a celebration of beauty, contrast, and transformation." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Thicket Sentinel

This dark-eyed junco (Junco hyemalis) gazes through a tangle of bare branches, its eyes steady and unblinking amid the winter lattice.

If you enjoy photos of birds and other wildlife, take a look at my photo gallery. Sparrows are never overlooked—they're a valued and important part of my collection. Feel free to explore!

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"Perched among a tangle of bare winter branches, the dark-eyed junco appears as a quiet sentinel of the cold season. Its head and upper body are cloaked in deep slate gray, almost charcoal, while its underside softens into a pale, snowy white—like a puff of frost nestled against bark. The bird’s beak is a delicate pink, smooth and slightly translucent, standing out against the darker feathers like a petal in shadow. Its eyes are round and dark, absorbing the light with a calm, watchful presence. The surrounding branches form a lattice of fine lines—some sharp, some blurred—creating a textured backdrop of muted browns and grays. The background glows with a subtle blend of warm and cool tones, suggesting early morning light or the hush of late afternoon. The junco is still, centered, and quietly dignified, as if holding the space between seasons. There’s no snow, but the air feels cold, and the bird’s posture suggests it knows how to wait." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Good morning. ☀️☀️☀️

12 January 2026

Today is a walk day, but it’s 31°F this morning, so we’ll have to put that off until things warm up a bit. There was a time when I’d throw on my running shoes and head out no matter what the weather decided to do. The only thing that ever stopped me was ice—no pun intended. Sometimes the roads get so slick that running isn’t recommended. That doesn’t really happen here, though.

Let’s be Frank.
Whoa—no, we can’t all be Frank.
What I meant was: let’s be real. Getting out there in freezing weather just isn’t for me anymore, and I rarely pick up the pace to a run or even a trot. Charlie and I stick to a leisurely 3 MPH, pausing whenever he finds something interesting. Well—he pauses. He’s got the rhythm down: he races ahead as far as the leash allows, finds a scent worth investigating, and then works his way back until the leash is stretched in the opposite direction.

Speaking of Charlie, it’s three minutes past mealtime. I’d better feed him.
…Mission accomplished.

I took a moment to look at the extended forecast for my area. It looks like cold weather will dominate the rest of January, with a chance of snow in the final days. And of course, the farther out the forecast goes, the closer it gets to reading chicken entrails. In any case, the cold will affect our walks. I could start going to a gym, but then what about Charlie? Besides, when I used to be a gym regular, I always seemed to be fighting off the sniffles. Probably wise to avoid that scene.

“A dog is one of the remaining reasons why some people can be persuaded to go for a walk.” — Orlando Aloysius Battista

“You don’t stop laughing when you grow old, you grow old when you stop laughing.” — George Bernard Shaw

Crown of Morning "The image captures a radiant sunrise, with the sun positioned boldly at the center like a glowing orb suspended in a sea of light. The sky is ablaze with warm hues—golden yellow, molten orange, and soft amber—blending seamlessly into one another like brushstrokes on a canvas. Wisps of thin clouds stretch across the horizon, their edges illuminated by the sun’s fire, adding texture and depth to the scene. The light spills outward in a halo, casting a gentle glow that seems to warm the air itself. There are no visible landmarks or silhouettes—just the pure, elemental drama of sky and sun, a moment suspended between night’s retreat and day’s arrival. The atmosphere feels hushed yet powerful, as if the world is holding its breath in reverence." - Microsoft Copilot
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@Swede1952@universeodon.com avatar Swede1952 , to random

Dune-Top Drama

This little sanderling (Calidris alba) was darting along the crest of a low sand dune at Holly Beach, Louisiana—quick-footed and wind-kissed, tracing the edge between land and sea.

Step into a world where even the smallest moments—like the glint in a bird's eye—tell their own story.

https://swede1952-photographs.pixels.com

"A single sanderling (Calidris alba) strides across a sunlit stretch of sandy beach, its tiny black legs moving with quick, purposeful steps. The bird’s plumage is a delicate blend of white and mottled brown, with a snowy underside and a patterned back that echoes the textures of sand and shell. Its short, straight black beak points downward, poised for foraging, as if mid-thought or mid-search. The foreground reveals a small object—perhaps a shell or pebble—partially buried in the sand, adding a tactile anchor to the scene. Behind the bird, the background softens into a blur of pale gold and silver, suggesting wet sand or distant water. The light is warm and low, casting a gentle glow that outlines the bird’s form and gives the entire image a quiet, contemplative mood. The sanderling appears both solitary and assured, a coastal wanderer navigating the edge of land and sea with instinctive grace. The photograph, signed “© Swede’s Photographs,” captures a fleeting moment of motion and stillness, where the beach becomes a stage and the bird its quiet performer." - Microsoft Copilot
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