Occasionally I rerun a favorite older post and for me, this one ranks very near the top. It was published in June of 2017 and the first photo is one many of you have seen several times before. I’m rerunning the post for two reasons:
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- Even though you may have seen the first photo before, and since, the 2017 post was the first and only time I provided the family background related to the photo. Most newer blog followers still haven’t seen the photo and even many old timers don’t know its back story.
- More importantly, back in 2017 I added the second photo, taken by Jim Dudley, long after most readers had come and gone from that post. And they never came back to it, so to this day they haven’t seen the second photo – which I think is exceptional and wonderful.
OK, here’s the post. For this version I’ve made multiple edits. Hopefully they’re improvements.
I feel more sentimental about the first image below than any other bird photo I’ve ever taken, hands down.
Many readers know that for years I’ve returned often to the Montana farm where I was raised. The draws for me are extended family that still lives there, the memories (oh the memories!) and the Great Horned Owls that have occupied the old farm buildings for many years. In June their chicks fledge and in their explorations those curious youngsters can show up almost anywhere. So on most mornings I’d get up before dawn, which arrives insanely early in northern Montana that time of year, and look for them. Finding them is almost never easy.
1/30, f/5.6, ISO 500, Canon 40D, Canon EF 500mm f/4L IS USM + EF 1.4 III Extender, not baited, set up or called in
In the predawn near-darkness on June 9, 2009 I found this one perched on an old, junked Honda 750 motorcycle. I didn’t even have my camera with me because it was so dark for photography (much darker than it looks here) so I quickly ran back to the house to get my gear and when I returned I only had time for a handful of shots before it flew off. At this focal length I’m amazed this one came out as well as it did while hand holding the very heavy older version of the 500mm with tc in this light and getting only 1/30 sec shutter speed.
Here’s the background on the image and why it means so much to me. Feel free to ignore all my jabbering if you don’t have the interest and just enjoy the photo of a great little owl on a highly unusual perch.
As many readers know, my cousin Ken Dudley and I were like brothers. His family and mine lived on adjacent farms as we were growing up and the twelve of us were one big and very close large clan. Eventually we sold our farm to Ken’s family and moved away, I went to college in Utah and Ken and his father, my favorite uncle Floyd Dudley, operated the combined farms together. Without Ken I’d have never been able to take up serious bird photography. That’s another story but I’ve documented it here if you don’t already know it and have the interest.
When Ken and Floyd were living alone on the farm together in the late 70’s and 80’s they bought a pair of matching motorcycles for trips to nearby Glacier National Park and the like. Back then Ken was a bit of a loveable “wild child” and one night he wrecked and totaled his bike, almost losing his life in the process. But after Floyd died Ken could never part with his dad’s bike, even though he rarely if ever rode it and a neighboring farmer wanted to buy it. So it sat on the farm for decades gathering dust and rust. It’s still there.
And that cute little owl did me the favor of perching on Floyd’s old bike and posing for me, if only for a couple of seconds. Everything in this image is loaded with fond memories for me – including the owl, the motorcycle, the “old shop” in the background and the flowering Caragana bush on the left. We used Caraganas on the farm for windbreaks. Believe me, we needed them.
If you’re still here through all my ramblings, thanks for indulging me. I do tend to go on at times, especially when the farm is involved.
Ron
Late Addendum – My cousin Jim Dudley, Ken’s older brother, lives on the farm now. After he saw my post this morning he posted a photo to Facebook of another Great Horned Owl fledgling, taken very recently, sitting on the workbench of Floyd’s “new shop”.
Jim gave me permission to copy it from FB and post it here for those readers that aren’t on Facebook. The caption below the photo is Jim’s, from FB. The photo was taken in the “new shop” which is right next to the “old shop” in my photo. The fledgling below is in defensive mode because Jim had to be in the shop to work on greenhouse parts that had been badly damaged by severe wind.
“Ron’s pic of a fledgling great horned owl reminded me of a similar situation just a couple of weeks ago when I had some help from another chick just 30′ from Dad’s motorcycle – this owl is sitting on Dad’s workbench and is curious about my effort to repair parts to my greenhouse. Thanks Ron for bringing back memories”. – Jim Dudley
For some reason I love that old carburetor in front of the owl. It’s oozing with “farm” and Floyd and Ken’s (and now Jim’s) always cluttered workbench.
I am so very sentimental that all of these photos bring back memories for me. I am so tempted to go into some of them here but won’t bore you. Suffice it to say that my heart is warm and the “little” owls are delightful. The biker dude definitely looks like you have intruded upon his day and the workshop assistant seems to think you have insulted his work. Great Horned Owls have so many cute expressions. My burning question is, how did a GHO fledgling get into the workshop? This post is one of my favorites and I will enjoy the photos and read it again. A collection of your pictures with captions and stories like this would make a wonderful book.
Great memories – thanks for sharing. I too had a favorite uncle, “Uncle Walter”, who was a farmer and had a small motorcycle he used for traversing the farm when he was irrigating. And his workbench would always look like what I can imagine your Uncle Floyd’s looked like! Your photos brought back old Idaho family memories for me as well – sans owls! – thank you!
I adore your family stories. Including the GHOs — and pictures! — is the icing on the cake. That fledgie is something else. 😍 Your farm memories evoke my own memories of living up in the mountains while my dad was a trail teacher at our district’s Outdoor Education School. We only lived there for 2 years, but that experience did as much to shape who I am and what I find important as much as anything else.
If it’s OK with Jim, I’d love to see a photo of you, him, and Ken (and your respective folks), if you have one.
Marty, maybe I can work a photo somewhat like you describe into a future post. But I don’t think I have one that has all of both families in it.
I couldn’t love this post more. Thanks, Ron. As i get older, and my needs get simpler, I know that those things which matter the most are family and friends and places with memories.
Love your last sentence, Nina.
Good stories and love that photo of the GHO on the workbench – how in the world do they get to places like that?
Thanks, Everett. At that age they can fly and the pretty much go where they want. The door to the shop was probably open.
Both shots are wonderful, and your reminiscences add to the pleasure of feeling connected to your enjoyment and celebration of life. Thanks.
Thank you, Burrdoo.
+1 to all Michael said. Thanks for the link to the lens story. I’d read it before but after years of following you, the reminder brought home just how important Ken’s gift was, not just to you, but to all of us who love and appreciate what you do.
Linda, Ken’s gift changed my life. Obviously for the better.
Thanks for re-sharing this Ron. I’ve heard pieces of the stories that are mentioned here in other posts, but I had not seen this particular post in the past. Some nice stories, and it is always great to hear from an artist about why a particular work of theirs means so much to them. And I love your photo for my own personal reasons as well.
Much appreciated, Bill. And you make a good point about knowing why an artist’s particular work means so much to them.
I always love a good backstory. And this from a man who doesn’t like to photograph birds in man-made settings. So much for that! Terrific photos, both of them. Thanks for the morning smiles, Ron!
“And this from a man who doesn’t like to photograph birds in man-made settings.”
I’ve mellowed in that regard, Ellen. And I have no problem making exceptions when the setting has so much nostalgia for me.
I second everything that Michael said!😊
Thanks, Diane.
Always love reading your stories of you and Ken.
Thank you, Mark.
Great post Ron. Your ramblings often trigger my old memories too, so please keep sharing your wonderful rambling stories.
Good to know, Rick. Thanks.
Love Love Love – great seeing the owl on the motorcycle again – what a charmer!
The Rufous have finally arrived. Not as many as last year, but am relieved to see them! Six at a time fighting over the feeder. Last few years I’ve had 10 at a time. They sure make me smile 🙂
Kathleen, as you might guess, I’m jealous of your Rufous. I still haven’t seen one this year.
Love your rambling. 😊
Good. Thanks, Laurie.
LOVE both shots and the ramblings behind them! 🙂 Luv GHO’s too and the young can be hilarious to watch. Lot of Caraganas in this are as part of wind breaks too! The work bench looks “familiar” 😉
1.5″ of rain overnight and some thunder claps that brought us both up out of bed! Glad the wheat is “in the bin” as is most winter wheat in the area. We’ll take it! 🙂
Hope Ryan is well – sounds like a real mess in places down there!
Thanks, Judy. Farm work benches tend to look like that, don’t they.
“If you’re still here through all my ramblings, thanks for indulging me.”
Thanks so much for sharing your “ramblings”. I enjoyed this and the old post you linked. I don’t mind telling you that I got a bit emotional over the beauty of the farm, the land, and the relationships you have with the people, places, and the things that represent them (like an old motorcycle, a photo, or a lens).
Well, as far as I’m concerned, you go ahead and ramble all you want. I like it.
Michael, I’ve got to admit that when I left the farm when I graduated from high school I didn’t think I’d miss it. Too much work.
I was wrong. To me it still feels like home, over 60 years after I left.
BRILLIANT post. I have had a total cow of a day (which isn’t yet over) and this put huge smiles on my face.
Thank you. So very much.
Dang it, EC. If anyone deserves to not have bad days, it’s you.