This image is dripping with nostalgia for me so I hope you’ll allow me to fill in a little of the backstory, even if you’ve heard some of it before.
I took the photo on the morning of June 5, 2009 on the Montana family farm on one of my first trips back since my cousin and best friend Ken Dudley passed away much too young. Ken owned and operated the farm and it was his gift to me in his will that allowed me to purchase my expensive 500mm lens and get into bird photography seriously. Without that gift it never would have happened and Ken knew how frustrated I was trying to photograph the Great Horned Owls that have been resident on the farm for many years with my much smaller and cheaper lens.
As is my habit when I’m there on that particular morning I got up before sunrise so I could check the old abandoned granaries west of the house for the owls. Occasionally I would find one of the adults perched in one of the auger cutouts in a granary in warm light. I love the combination of warm light, old wood and owls!
On this morning I couldn’t find any adults but I was wonderfully surprised to find a recently fledged youngster on a very unexpected perch.
1/640, f/8. ISO 500, Canon 40D, Canon EF 500mm f/4L IS USM + EF 1.4 Extender, not baited, set up or called in
It was a rusty and very old farm machinery wheel, probably for a tractor (those huge cleats are meant to dig into the soil for traction). The sun had risen only seconds before and hadn’t even reached most of the wheel yet (it was 5:39 AM). The young owl was often sleeping with both eyes closed but ‘he’ knew I was there (shooting from a tripod which is unusual for me) so occasionally he would open one eye to make sure I wasn’t up to no good. He has blood on one of his toes, undoubtedly from one of the gophers (Richardson’s Ground Squirrels) that are so abundant in the area and that adult owls feed to their youngsters.
Both the tractor wheel and the old granary behind it would have originated with my grandpa Dudley in about 1930 when he bought the farm on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation. He actually broke some of the land and it’s our suspicion that this wheel came from the tractor he used to break it. Breaking virgin grassland is infinitely more difficult than plowing land that’s already been farmed and that would explain the massive cleats on the rear powered wheel. There’s gobs of old equipment like this on the farm and none of us today know for sure what some of it was used for.
So, a rusty old metal tractor wheel used by my grandfather, a granary that he built 85 years ago and the lens I used to take the photo of one of the beloved farm owls which was provided by my deceased cousin and best friend Ken Dudley – that’s nostalgia in my book.
Ron
Note: Today’s post is the 2422nd edition of Feathered Photography and I posted this photo in edition #23, on December 10, 2010 so I’m relatively confident that most current readers have never seen it.
What a wonderful story! THANKS for sharing it with us! Your one eye open feathered friend is very cute! I so enjoy reading your blog…..please keep it coming!
A beautiful photo. Perfect in every way. Thanks Ron.
Thanks, Debbie.
Thsnks, agsin Ken…
This is nostslgic for me ,too…reminds me of Wol when he was young and still fuzzy-looking…
🙂
Everything about this post is beautiful, thanks Ron.
Thanks very much, Carol.
So glad you posted this photo again….so many things to appreciate here ..especially the story! You’re stories as well as your photos are what makes your site so good..Thanks for it all…
Double thank you for that, Steve!
Nostalgia at its very, very best and most beautiful.
Thank you, EC.
I love the photos you post of the owl family at the old MT homestead (and this one has an especially appealing composition) … and I also appreciate the connection between your family’s history there and your photography obsession. 😉
Good, thanks Chris. The various influences of my family run deep and broad.
Ron, I so appreciate your commentary and photography posts ❣️Your back story of history was captivating…and loved your “wondering if your dad was responsible for the wayward nails”😍
When does a fledgling get its feathered horns? …guess I should google that ! Also I thought how cold that metal must be to perch on in early morning …
Carolyn, I don’t know the age it happens but I have photos of fully feathered young owls that don’t have them yet.
Wonderful photo Ron…and even more so knowing the back story!
Thank you, Pamela.
My daughter who is an artist always tells me artist see the world differently and to me clearer. I enjoy your art and prose very much. My great grandfather was a professional photographer and I agree with the comment your art would make a wonderful book. I look at pictures from our family’s stash with much wonder. He was active around the turn of the 20th century. Enjoy your wandering both mind and body.
I hope you have many of your great grandfather’s photos, Betty. And the stories behind them. They would be a family treasure.
Though I have never seen this shot before, it is one of the best of yours that I have seen. It is a portrait, in the strict definition of that word, of a young owl, a new day, old wood, new light, and an old tool; the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, the light is elegant, and even without your narrative, the image resonates with memories. Many thanks for letting me see it.
And PS isn’t that blood on the owl’s bill?
“the whole is greater than the sum of the parts”, Perfectly said, Martha – at least for me.
Yes, that’s blood on the bill too. Good eye.
Love the personal connection, Ron. And the owl, of course.
Thank you, Art.
Beautiful, peaceful picture! rooted in your family history! I would like to go there and stay;at least until after election day.
It’s heaven up there for about 4 months out of the year, John. Come winter though it’s only for the extremely hardy!
Great story and image Ron! The arm farm machinery is amazing to me, as I think how hard it was to move those implements and other heavy iron and steel around. Reading your post this morning is timely.
My property abuts to two very old farms and I love exploring them. Yesterday was a treat as I took my friend and neighbor, Longino, a 92.5 year old farmer, into town so he could be interviewed by the Library of Congress as part of their Living Treasure series on surviving World War II veterans. I have sat down and recorded many hours of Longino telling me about his life growing up on the apple farm next door.
Your stories of rural Montana that I have read remind me of some of the ones I hear from Longino. Keep them coming, please 🙂
That’s a neat story about Longino, Ed. I’m jealous of the intimate times you’ve spent with him. My dad was in WW II also but hard as I tried I could never get him to open up very much about it (he was part of the invasion of Okinawa).
I am sure that many WWII do not want to relive the horrors they experienced. So many perished in WWII. I am glad that your Dad, and Longino, survived the war, Ron.
Who turned on the light? 😉
You definitely nailed this shot — and not a bent/mangled nail either. I love the stories and photos of your family and the farm. It would be cool if you’re able to compile them for posterity (and perhaps a book). On those long drives to get shots, I can see you with a voice recorder next to your donut. 😀
I really love this. That owlet reminds me of me before coffee. “Approach at your own risk. “
Love your comment, Arwen!
Thanks, Melanie!
Thanks, Arwen. I’m not particularly grouchy before my morning coffee but I sure as hell don’t have all my pistons firing…
I love the facial expression of this sleepy little guy. Anything to do with your family farm and owls and cousin Ken is good reading, even when I have seen it, or parts of it, before. I think it’s wonderful that you have a good family history. And I’m glad when you repost special photos like this one that I have not seen before.
I appreciate that feedback, Susan. I was fearful I’d bore those readers who already know significant parts of the story.
That is nostalgia Ron and a feel good story. I imagine you would have thoughts and memories of your dad whenever you are in that granary. Nice photo too. Thanks for sharing.
Everett Sanborn, Prescott AZ
How wonderful Ron!
Charlotte
Ahh! SO cute! 🙂 Of course, I’m partial to GHO’s 😉 Beautiful setting/colors and love the one eye open in effect saying “quit bugging me – I’m trying to sleep!” Know from your story of how you came to have the “good lens” that all this is special to you – thx for sharing the memories…… 🙂
I’m tempted to imagine that the spirits of those two beloved men– Ken and your Grandpa–are winking a “hello” to you through the medium of that young owl…….
Great photo! and even greater story! Love it!
I have not seen this for certain. Love it for all the reasons you stated…owl, old wood, rusty metal with nostalgia. Add rusty nails, the colors and soft wooly look of the fledgling which compliments everything, and let’s not forget that look on his face…’I see you but I choose to ignore you’. ❤️ Monochromatic photos are my favorites especially in these colors. Yes… you hit the jackpot very early on!
Kathy, my dad probably ‘helped’ grandpa build that granary when he was 10 years old. Whenever I see a bent-over or mutilated nail and there are several of them I wonder if it was dad that did it. My mind wanders over things like that.
‘Mind wanderings’ are a good thing. It is those memories and surmisings that keep the past alive for us.