We were enjoying our 3-season porch yesterday when a new feathered friend flew in to check out the back yard. It was very pretty, blue and white, but didn't stick around long enough to get the camera.
Today, I was working on a column when Mary Anne yelled that the bird was back, so I grabbed the camera, rushed downstairs and quietly opened the door to the porch.
The cute little guy was perched in a red maple tree on the back border of the property, so I began shooting as soon as I was outside.
Thanks to the 28X zooom lens on my Lumix, I was able to advance a few steps and take a series of shots, but all the while, the bird had its head buried under its right wing, facing away.
I got to within 2 or 3 feet from the tree, and the bird was at eye level, but still facing away.
I circled the tree, stopping every few seconds to take another photo, all the while thinking it would fly away.
Finally the head came out, but it still didn't fly away and I was able to take several close-up shots before finally
flying into the next yard and disappearing .
At this point, we're figuring that the little guy escaped from a friendly home and will inquire around the neighborhood.
For now, we're simply grateful for the visit. If he returns, we'll put out some seed.
He sure did make our day!
FISHING-FOTO-FUN
DECADES OF FISHING PHOTOS AND THE MEMORIES THEY GENERATED
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
BONUS TO BEGIN A NEW SEASON
There is much more to fishing than simply catching fish. I've said it before and I'll say it again. If I needed another confirmation, I received it once again this past Saturday when we opened the 2012 trout season.
Just as we've done for more than 30 years, we opened the season at my son Todd's campsite at Nickerson Park Campground on the Natchaug River. Todd and I fished a while then broke for a scrumptious breakfast of sausage, eggs and home fries courtesy of Tracie Alley. We had settled in around the campfire with our second cup of coffee when John Wood and his daughter Christy came by.
John and Christy, age 14, were enjoying their fifth year at the campground for a traditional trout opener, but this year, Christy was armed with a fly rod. She had tied up a bunch of flies over the winter and had obviously been practicing.
They entered the water near our site, heading for the opposite bank where a tempting riffle extended from a fallen tree. John remarked that the spot had potential and he and his daughter took up positions to get the right drift.
Within a few casts, John had a strike and set the hook, sending a tiny Dace splashing across the surface. We all had a good laugh, but then Christy set up on an obviously bigger fish.
She played the fish way beyond her young age and soon had it in the net.
Holding it up to show Dad, she then released the trout, anxious to resume casting.
Moments later, Christy tied into a second fish, this time a bit bigger. Dad grabbed his camera to take a picture.
This one measured maybe 15-26 inches, a keeper for sure and Christy took it back to the campsite to reserve it for breakfast.
Watching John and Christy sharing the fun and excitement of this opening day, brought me back decades when I took Todd and Lori on their first trout fishing trips. I also had the pleasure in being there when each and every one of my grandchildren caught their first fish.
Someday, maybe 20 or 30 years from now, John and Christy will be watching some other Dad with his son or daughter on another trout opener.
I've enjoyed catching many fish over the years, but none gave me more pleasure than seeing another youngster get hooked on fishing.
30
Friday, February 24, 2012
Then & Now With Scotty Barnes
Then & Now with Scotty Barnes!
We had great neighbors that included the Schurman's, the Landcrafts and the Larry Barnes family. Larry's son Scotty was really hooked into fishing and one day, I caught this photo of him with a frisky trout.
Scotty Barnes with one of his first trout. |
His Dad was a good fisherman and over the years we all became friends and enjoyed many weekends as neighbors.
As happens, kids grow up go to school and other activities and camping is abandoned or at least cut way back.
That's the way it was with us and years passed when we didn't see our friends. A few years back, we got back into camping again, purchased a new pop-up. My bride and I camped during the summer months, but Opening weekends of trout season became a guy thing.My son Todd and other friends never missed an opener until I lost my camper in a flood a few years back. Then Todd and his family got serious about camping again and I've since managed to make every Opener except the year I had knee surgery.
A couple of years ago, Todd and I were enjoying our first cup of coffee next to the campfire on Opening morning when a young man walked up and introduced himself. It was Scotty Barnes. He's still a good fisherman as demonstrated by this newer photograph. His Dad was with him and we enjoyed talking over old times. Now we all look forward to getting together each and every season.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
FEBRUARY RAINBOW!
Friday, February 10, 2012
SOME FISH ARE WIMPS!
Back a few years ( more than a few) Chuck Schwartz owned Fairfield Tackle. Chuck introduced me to first, fishing Great Lakes tributaries for steelhead and then followed with an invite aboard Gypsy Charters for a shot at salmon fishing in Lake Ontario the following summer.
I had hooked big salmon while steelhead fishing in the Salmon River in Pulaski during the spring run, but the 4-pound tippet regulation for steelies always resulted in a long run until we put the brakes on and the line snapped. I was really excited as the boat left the dock. Chuck, Phil Stein and Win Cyrus were also aboard as we moved a half-mile offshore and the skipper set a whole bunch of rods rigged with a variety of lures at a variety of depths on downriggers.
We picked straws for who would get to play the fish. Phil was the first to score, but not on a salmon. He hit a respectable lake trout, admired it and released it back into the water. Our fishing beats changed every half-hour and the day passed slowly with very little action. There was another hit or two and the two-way radio crackled with complaints from other skippers on the lake who were't doing well either. Hey, it happens!
By the time my turn came, we had eaten all the sandwiches, drank all the beer and soda and it was almost time to pull in the rods. That's when one of the reels started to sing and the skipper handed me the rod. I set the hook, leaned back and started reeling. The fish quickly turned and came towards the boat. I commented that it must be another small laker and continued to reel. No fight! No turning and heading away from the boat. The critter ran right for the transom, stopped and splashed on the surface and somebody put a net around it.
When the fish was swung aboard, we all stood there, mouths wide open. It was a sizable salmon that later weighed in at 28-pounds. It looked healthy, was healthy but just didn't fight worth a darn. Turned put to be the last fish of the day, even though we trolled for another hour or more.
Back at the dock, I posed for this photo with the fish and donated it to the skipper. It was a fun day spent with great company, but it was the wimpiest fish pound for pound that I ever landed.
DWA
Sunday, February 5, 2012
SNAKES ALIVE!
FOR GOODNESS SNAKES
by
Dick Alley
I hate snakes! Even though Connecticut isn't over-run with dangerous snakes, I am always watching where I walk when fishing.
The "BUD" was great. Time for the main course. |
One day, we traveled down a dirt road through the forests up around Ashford and Eastford, and came to an open area, the site of some kind of former industrial operation. There were building foundations and a nice stream meandered through the area. It only took a few casts to produce a couple of trout as we walked around casting into different pools and riffles.We were walking the dirt road when one of us looked down to see an area that was crawling with snakes. The critter shown in the photo quickly drew our attention as it was obviously in the process of eating a trout about 10-inches in length.
I quickly headed back to the car to get my camera and very cautiously approached this big hungry guy. I don't like snakes and normally do everything in my power to put as much distance between myself and the snake,"any snake" as quickly as possible.
As I drew closer, it was obvious that I was unwelcome. That snake suddenly began coughing and wiggling, flexing those neck muscles until it expelled the body of the trout. Just as suddenly, it turned and coiled and lunged at me, mouth agape, fangs bared. Luckily I was far enough away that it fell to the ground missing me by a couple of feet. (Thanks for telephoto lenses.) I would have loved to have had that shot, but I was too busy back-pedaling in the other direction to take it.
This photo remains one of my favorites and always came up in conversations when Bob and I would tell war stories over a beer or two.DWA
Saturday, February 4, 2012
FIRST FISH
FIRST FISH
Fishing is an important factor when it comes to aging properly. Almost every fish is a memory. Even more precious are the memories of watching children and grandchildren learn the sport of fishing and experience their own first fishing adventure.
Todd Alley with his first sunfish. He was maybe 4 or 5 at the time. |
Becca Alley is Todd's daughter and she was happy with her first trout two seasons back while on a camping trip to the Natchaug River. Grandpa and Dad were both on hand for the occasion. |
Nichole is Becca's older sister and it was double the fun that day because both girls caught trout on their first fishing day. |
Found the photo! - My oldest Grandson Chris with his first sunfish, fishing the Saugatuck Reservoir with Grandpa. |
Mary Meinke is Poppy Alley's oldest Grand-daughter. She'll be graduating from College in May but on this day she was on her first fishing trip to the Saugatuck Reservoir with her Grandfather. |
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