The new eyas is on the left, not quite as white as the first baby.
As I watched the two babies, the sun came out from behind a cloud and backlit them, highlighting their little fuzzy dandelion-top heads. And slowly, as if disturbed from sleep by the sun's bright rays, a third little white head rose up and two dark eyes blinked into my camera lens.
...and the three babies just watched, and looked...and watched and looked, their eyes huge and their expressions wise. They were very calm, barely moving, seemingly trying to absorb everything they saw around them, and (I'm sure) hoping mama would show up soon with something yummy to eat!
Dark clouds were starting to move over the trail, and the light had stopped filtering through the trees. It was 6:07, which was still early, so the darkness was definitely not from nightfall. A slight drop in temp and the sound of wind moving through the leaves as it pushed down the trail, confirmed it. A storm was brewing. I decided to move on. A Wood Thrush and an Indigo Bunting had been singing at full throttle for a while, and it would be lovely to see them before I left... However, a few rumbles of thunder off in the distance convinced me it was time to go, but then I saw him. Even in the darkening gloom, the Indigo Bunting shone electric blue.
He was pretty far off the trail, and with a shutter speed slowing down to compensate for the lack of light, I knew these photos would be blurry, but I was hoping to capture his beautiful blue. Another rumble...and a much sharper wind hurried me along. I almost made it. I caught up to a husband and wife team also trying to beat the storm...and we laughed as the rain poured down. Cyclists were pouring off the trail too...also laughing. At least the rain was warm. It felt really good!
Posts
