According to everything I have read, this lion isn’t really black. It’s a hoax, a Photoshop manipulation. It is however, not a genetic impossibility. Color mutations among creatures great and small are never impossible. This particular picture originally showed (supposedly) a very rare white lion that has been manipulated to appear black.
I’m not sure why showing an extremely rare white lion would be less intriguing than a black one, but there you go. It doesn’t have to make sense.
It still hasn’t rained. Rain is in the forecast and maybe it’ll be enough to make a difference. There’s more predicted for next week, though I have no idea how accurate prediction for 10 days from now can be. We can certainly hope.
On the up side of the drought, the foliage is glorious.
Autumn is our finest time, when New England shakes off her drab old clothing and puts on her coat of many colors. It’s a party for nature and it’s special and gorgeous. A simple ride to the grocery store is breathtaking.
I think it’s heading for an epic-level Autumn. But I’m still hoping that after the leaves have peaked, perhaps Mother Nature will take pity on us and send the rain.
I needed an airing. My cameras needed exercise. So, finally, I got my act together and we went out to take some pictures. Where to go?
Sometimes, the path of least resistance works out best. We went into town, parked and walked to the Mumford River and the dam. With trepidation. I didn’t know how bad it would be. As it turned out, better than I had hoped, at least for photography.
Because there, right in front of the dam where it used to be deep with a powerful current, stood a blue heron. So still he might have been a statue. Garry spotted him and we dove for our cameras.
We had nothing to fear. He stood there, unmoving, for so long I thought maybe there was something wrong with him. Then, he started to move. Walked over to the spill way … and grabbed a fish. And swallowed it. Then, in his new position along the side by the spillway, he again went still. I guess he was waiting for another fish. He was still standing there when we packed our gear and headed home.
Mr. Heron catches a fish.
The Mumford is very low. It’s no more than a few inches deep, but at least it’s wet. I guess, from the heron’s viewpoint, it’s better this way. Because when the river was “normal,” a wading bird couldn’t fish there.
Which way? The geese are not confused. They, at least, know where they are going. I cannot say the same for me. Among the directionally challenged, I am perhaps the most directionally challenged of them all.
I was looking for photographs suitable for a children’s book … and discovered pictures I never processed. No idea why. I probably intended to go back and do something with them … and finally, I did.
Our of a mound of hair, our groomer carved a lovely Norwich Terrier. Nan, showgirl that she was, has been preening ever since we brought her home from her beauty date. Nan is the only dog I’ve ever known who seems to genuinely like being groomed. She’s been strutting around the house, posing. She’s adorable.