Dark black clouds. White fluffy clouds. The sky was black. The sky was blue. It rained. It didn’t rain. The surf was flat and the beach was clear of people.

We brought Dolby, our black lab, out with us. The oil spill was on its way to Pensacola and we didn’t know when the next time was we’d be able to bring him.

As we walked out to the beach, the rain started sprinkling, and a rainbow popped out to the East. We got ourselves settled on a blanket, Dolby obviously unhappy. He and rain don’t mix. He loves getting wet and swimming, but if the moisture comes out of the sky, this displeases him. Lise went to hunt for seashells and the dog and I stayed behind.

I sat marveling at the rainbow, the dichotomy of light and dark in the sky, at the beach that we so love, how the light reflected off the water, and how we might be losing it all to the oil spill, slowly gushing its way to us.

That’s when I saw him.

Off to the East. A Great Blue Heron.

He was a good 50 yards away from where Dolby and I sat. He was framed against a beautiful backdrop of those mixed clouds, the rainbow, the shimmering water, and the sugar-white sand.

The photographer in me instantly started calculating how close I would need to get, at what point I would need to stand, what settings I would need to put into the camera, in order to get a shot of those clouds, the rainbow, the heron, the reflection, all into one frame.

The one thing I didn’t calculate was what it would take to get Dolby to stay on the blanket and not scare the heron away.

Dolby’s a good boy. We’ve been very lucky to have a big dog who stays close when off his leash, and almost always comes back when called. Almost always.

As I started changing my camera settings to take into account the distance, the lighting, my subject, and walking slowly towards the heron, I realized that Dolby was with me. What’s more, his ears had perked up and his tail was straight out. He started moving faster and next thing I know, he’s 5 yards in front of me.

What to do!? If I yell, Dolby would come back, but the heron might take off!

I risked it. “Dolby! COME!” and he did. And the heron stayed in his spot.

I continued walking, started taking some preliminary shots to see how things were looking, but knowing I needed to get much closer than I was to get the heron big enough to make it all worthwhile.

I forgot about Dolby again as I shot and made adjustments, walking quickly and, hopefully, stealthily towards the shoreline and my quarry.

The next thing I see in my camera viewfinder?

Dolby has taken off. Not a full gallop (yet), but the Labrador Retriever Hunting trot.

I called again in the most commanding voice I have, “Dolby! COME!” knowing it was futile. Once he’s locked himself into this mode, there’s nothing I can do to stop him. I had two choices: Chase after him and hope I could catch up to him, and grab him by his harness, or…

Or, I could get the camera ready and shoot what was sure to be an interesting, if not funny, scene.

Dolby has chased after pelicans in the past, to much disappointment. He has chased after black skimmers and come away shame-faced. He goes after slow, bumbling pigeons, but the results are always the same no matter what he chases: they get away.

This night was no different. As he got closer, the Great Blue shifted slightly. I could see him eyeing this big galoot who was now coming at him at a gallop. I could also see that the heron was going to shame my dog by letting him get close, closer, closer…

And it was a fantastic shaming. That Great Blue waited until the last minute to unfold his large wings and gracefully take flight against my goofy dog. He flew perhaps 50 yards to the West, landed in the water, and resumed his search for dinner, keeping a wary eye in our direction.

My big dog got this shameful, silly look on his face as he trotted back, almost as if to say, “Dang it! I knew that was gonna happen, but shucks, I just had to give it a try!”

As the oil slick continues to grow, and as we find more and more oil out on the beach, this is just one of the many things we are growing sad about losing.

Using some of their product, I have tried to articulate how we and many of our friends here in Pensacola feel about BP and the oil spill / death of millions of animals / destruction of habitats / screwing over of lives:

To be certain, this is only the tip of the iceberg. The blobs of oil we saw / stepped in / couldn’t avoid today were nothing compared to what’s a couple miles off shore, and even that is nothing compared to what’s slowly moving our way.

To say that we’re heartbroken doesn’t even begin to cover it.

We’re heartbroken for the wildlife that is being killed by this tragedy. We’re heartbroken for the lives ruined (those killed on the rig; the families left behind; those whose businesses and dreams are shattered; those of us who live on the Gulf coast who will be directly and indirectly affected financially for many years to come).

And we’re heartbroken for selfish reasons, too. When Lise and I moved here back in 2007, we did so for mental health reasons and because we had fallen in love with Pensacola Beach. Many long-time residents we’ve friended here think we’re somewhat crazy – coming to the beach three, four, even five times a week is not unusual for us. We watch the sunset. We collect shells. We sit together and dream dreams. We watch pelicans, terns, and other seabirds fly and live. We watch dolphins, schools of fish, sharks, cownose stingrays, and a vast number of other sealife swim with what seems to us like carefree abandon. We swim. We love. We are still in awe of the incredible diversity that the seasons bring to the shoreline. The peace and comfort we receive just being in the presence of the Gulf shore is indescribable.

Taking pictures today of Pensacola Beach littered with the first wave of tar balls / oil blobs hurt. Picking up a small amount of the oil and seeing how difficult it is to get that shit off of my hands was shocking. I still have oil stuck under / around my fingernails after washing my hands several times.

We’ve both cried. I’m sure we’ll be crying more. The pictures coming out of Louisiana are so painful that I’ve had to stop looking at them. The ramifications for our future here (mental health, financial, job-wise, etc.) are so shocking that we’ve not been able to have a coherent conversation about it yet. But we’re going to have to face this soon.  I don’t know how we’re going to be able to stay here.

And for that: Fuck you, BP.

Posted via email from rustypants’s posterous

Posted via email from rustypants’s posterous

Posted via email from rustypants’s posterous

so when we heard that they do 2 full dress rehersals the two days prior to the actual show, we were totally game! we packed lunch, books, lots of water, and hit the beach late morning. at 2pm, the first plane came overhead, and a few short minutes later, the Blue Angels screamed across the beach from behind us. for the next 50 minutes, we were absolutely floored at their ability, speed, and execution. it was incredible!

each of the thumbnails below blows up to a bigger shot.

]]> http://www.rustypants.net/2009/07/26/navy-blue-angels/feed/ 1 http://www.rustypants.net/2009/07/14/its-genetic/ http://www.rustypants.net/2009/07/14/its-genetic/#comments Tue, 14 Jul 2009 23:37:59 +0000 youthdude http://www.rustypants.net/?p=992 no matter how awesome of a tan i get

i will always be a pasty white-boy from ohio somewhere.

no nude beaches in the area. :-(

the average daytime temp in december is around 65° – water temp in the Gulf is pretty close to that, too.

now, when we pulled out of cincinnati, the temperature was 22° and snow was on the ground. we know cold, right? coming to pensacola was like driving into summer – incredible! 43° difference – we may as well have been on another planet!

shorts, sandals, t-shirts all around. sure, we packed pants and pullovers for evening, but during the day? psh!

half way through the week we’re in our swimtrunks, out in the water, hunting for shells, amazed that we’re the only ones on the beach a mile in either direction. we’re drenched and loving every minute of it. pure heaven!

a lone figure appeared, shuffling across the sand in our direction. we didn’t think anything of it until the figure came closer: it was an older woman, dressed in multiple pairs of pants, a pair of winter boots, and a long winter coat with a fur lined cap pulled tightly over her head. on her hands were a thick, warm pair of gloves. it was obvious that she was quite cold.

it’s like the Far Side cartoon with the dinosaur and the walnut-sized brain somehow able to walk through an open field and bonk its head against the only tree visible in any direction – she was heading right for us. to be polite, i got out of the water and lise and i were ready for whatever she might be asking.

she approached us, looked us up and down, and stated in no uncertain terms, “Y’all Yankees.”

well, what could we do? lise and i looked at each other and got the giggles – not the rude kind, but the oh-darn-we-been-caught kind.

she looked us over again, shook her head and said, “Ain’t nobody here in Pensacola that’d be caught in the water this time o’ year. Y’all Yankees.”

and i turned to the woman and said, “well, i reckon so.”

tonight we thought we’d take him for some fun on the beach.

black skimmers are out and tonight was no exception.

you can see that dolby thought it’d be fun to try and catch this big boy.

sadly, his reflexes were still a bit stunted and the skimmer got away. the look on his face in this picture: shame? guilt? disappointment?

guess we’ll have to try again tomorrow. better luck then, dolbs!

• finished reading two good books in a row -Â The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon;Â Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri. the first is a story told from the viewpoint of a fifteen year old with autism – fascinating to me after working with profoundly autistic students for many years in DC and Maryland. the second won the Pulitzer for fiction back in 2000 – it’s a series of short stories and very enjoyable.
• i’m currently reading Michael Ondaatje’s Anil’s Ghost and Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake. both are good so far.
• my contract was renewed at PFHS for next year – this was FANTASTIC news, both because having a job = good, and because i have come to love working at this school! very excited for what next year will bring.
• as school finished up last week, i’ve been searching for things to keep me busy this summer. too much time off is dreadfully boring. have a meeting with a department at my district tomorrow to discuss my developing Moodle pages for this dept’s training sessions, and helping with other technology related things. couple days a week, couple hours a day, maybe.
• our beloved Canon S2 IS bit the dust a couple months ago. a stunning blow, as we rarely leave the house without a camera in tow. we knew we wanted to move up in the digital camera arena, but didn’t have the money to do so. after some scraping and a lot of research, we ended up getting a killer deal on a Canon SX10 IS and we’re having a blast with it. the pictures are crisp, the response time on the camera is quick, the 20x optical zoom is over the top, and the flexibility is great. we’re still learning the nuances of this camera, and i have difficulty in a couple areas that are probably lack of photography knowledge, but we’re working on that!
• i’m enjoying Twitter more as i’m finding professional uses for it (mostly networking and idea-sharing), but i have to admit: i’m getting very annoyed at folks who use twitter like text messaging and/or simply to show off. now, the beauty of twitter is: even though everyone and their mothers have a “how to use twitter” tutorial, the truth is, there are no rules. and my bitching about folks who use twitter one way or another – it comes down to this – i stop following them so i don’t have to partake in their pointless and excessive self-aggrandizing or all the silly personal chatter they produce. it’s been bothering me a bit – thanks for letting me blow off some steam about it (and no offense meant to anyone who has been un-followed or recognizes themselves in this description – i still love you, just not that much).
• and in the interest of full-disclosure: i don’t frequently have a lot of intelligent things to say on twitter – but i do keep the meaningless posts to a minimum.
• the juan sebastian elcano is docked at pensacola pier – we went down and took a stroll around – pretty impressive ship!

• the sunsets continue to blow our minds here in pensacola. the temperatures have been very pleasant (mid-80’s the last couple weeks). tonight we saw a black skimmer fly by just as we were about to leave – very pretty and graceful – this was the best i could get of this one as it flew by:

• recent new music discoveries include: Rosie Thomas; Booker T; and Danger Mouse and Sparklehorse’s Dark Night of the Soul.

be well and take me to task on some of this stuff, ya hear?

as of june 3

Pensacola – Spring 2009

Some places, people, and things from spring 2009.

woke up around 7:15, took care of the dog, grabbed some cereal, packed a couple books, the cooler, and took off.

skies were clear, water was gorgeous, shells were plentiful, and the temps were perfect.

saw a very cool solar halo while out. we’ve seen them before, but not this big or clear.

we stayed until noon and took off. it was the perfect way to spend a saturday morning.

the way the sky changes so quickly and gives so many colors, shapes, hues, and focal points – it never ceases to amaze us.

there was a large cloud front moving in from the north – watching the sunset BEHIND that – it was multiple layer sunset goodness!

while we were sloshing around in the water, lise made a killer shell find – a large 3″ alphabet cone!

this is only the 2nd one we’ve found even close to the 3″ range – quite a find, let me tell you!

after a particularly strange day at school, this was a good way to end it: together, everyone happy, relaxed, and ready to come home and crash.

speaking of which…

not long after we arrived, the wind picked up and some pretty chunky looking clouds appeared.

we got in the car to drive around and investigate.

in some spots, the sky was clear. in others it was pitch black. and still in others it was yellow / pink / purple-ish.

it came through like a snake. pitch black up the middle, clear or colorful on either side.

after we’d hung about for a bit longer, we started to head back to the house for some dinner and playtime with dolby. along the bay (the “scenic tour” way home), i saw a HUGE bird in a tree – too big for a hawk, wrong neck for a heron, and pelicans don’t roost in trees.

we pulled a u-turn and then another, got out the camera and shot what i thought might’ve been an eagle or falcon at first glance. it was an osprey! a big boy, too!

a spectacular sunset was brewing after we saw the falcon. we pulled off into a cemetary by the bay and snapped some pretty cool shots. also got some rainbow shots that i’m having difficulty manipulating in the newest WordPress release. if i’m able, will update with that later.

we love nights like tonight – the time together, the variety of weather, the awe of creation. it’s good to be reminded of the insignificance that our puny lives represent when cast against everything else. crummy days at school melt away in times like these.

me wifey has bluey eyes

she coming after me

that explainey – full moony!

as we walked around, lise got into the water just a bit and was finding a lot of the same old stuff.

and then she yelled. LOUD.

she had found a Tortuga’s Banded Tulip, intact, and a little over 3″ long. an amazing find!

this is one of those “holy grail” shells for us. we’ve seen very small ones, and have been teased with hundreds of “pieces” of this shell. it’s very thin and delicate, so when they do actually make it to the shore, they’re typically beaten and crunched against the sand and other shells by waves, broken into pieces.

needless to say, this was a very neat find!

if he ever caught one

but it sure is funny watching

as he runs pell mell

and at least tries.

 lise and i collect seashells. lots of them. compulsively collect them. for 2+ years now, we’ve collected shells and shell pieces and have hoarded them in boxes and drawers and bags. we give many of them away, but dang, we just have too many shells.

a month or so ago, lise said to me, “let’s go through all our shells and take most of them back.” “BACK?!?” i said incredulously. “yes. back,” was her reply. and in the ensuing weeks, we went through all our shells, held back the ones we enjoyed the most (there were a lot of those) and made plans for exactly how we were going to return the others.

a mural. a sculpture. a sand-painting with shells. this would be the best way to return them: make art!

so two weeks ago, we hauled 2 years worth (maybe just under 100 lbs?) of shells to pensacola beach and began creating.

we picked a deserted spot, chose the best location and we got to work.

we had sketched out a sun design on paper before we arrived…

and the trick was keeping it even. we didn’t want the aesthetic ruined by sections off-kilter or too many shells clumped together in one spot. we didn’t want it to be TOO symmetrical or normal looking, though. the sun was retreating fast, so we had to double-up our efforts. things worked out perfectly, and we finished in about 45 minutes.

what took two years to collect were planned and laid out in just under an hour to the backdrop of a gorgeous sunset. it was a triumphant moment when we stood back and looked at our finished art project.

i honestly thought i’d feel sad about letting all those shells go, but it was such a fun thing. we really enjoyed ourselves and spent a good amount of time talking about what folks would think as they came upon this creation later. speculation, creation, satisfaction, companionship – it was all there.

we hung out for a bit, watched the sunset fade to black, and headed home…

Â

and began planning our next big seashell art project!

i drove down to the dead-end just to watch the swirling & crashing waves for a while. on the way there, i passed a single vehicle. an SUV with Kansas plates was parked on the side of the road and an umbrella was in the middle of the beach, propped on it’s side against the onslaught of wind. driving slowly past, i see two folks huddled under the meager protection from the elements, a cooler between them and looking like they were having the time of their lives.

i smiled once as i crawled past because i realized that lise and i would have done the same crazy kind of thing.

i smiled twice because i could hear them saying to themselves, “dagnabbit, we drove all the way from kansas to sit on the beach, and come hell or high water, that’s what we’re doing!!”

and we promised to hug it, and squeeze it, and call it george.

but it got pulled into taffy. :-(

now, i joke about going to the beach for the sights (babes?) but the reality is: i go to the very end of civilization on p-cola beach just to NOT have to endure the sights or the people or the noise. we are genuinely disappointed when there are other folks close by – not because we’re anti-social buttheads – we just enjoy an empty beach to ourselves.

so i’m sitting there sunning myself and reading a book and looking for the occasional seashell in the surf, basically minding my own business. out of the corner of my eye, i see some dude fishing. no big deal, right? but after he casts his reel, he’s making funny / big gestures with his arms – almost to draw attention to himself, it seems.

now on this particular day, i’d forgotten to put my contacts in, but it was a true double-take when i thought i saw what i thought i saw.

out comes the camera, zoom that sucker in for all it’s worth, and there it was.

the worst fashion statement i’ve ever seen on any beach anywhere.

and now my plea:

please, for the love of all things sacred, if you’re a fat middle aged man, with or without a huge butt-tattoo, DO NOT wear a man-thong to pensacola beach in the middle of the day.

now, in the interest of full-disclosure, i offer this: do i like to skinnydip in the gulf? yes, at times. at night. in the pitch black. far from civilization. away from anyone who might be subjected to the awful sight.

but never at noon on a beach where there are dozens and dozens of folks within view.

and finally: man-thongs? are you for real??