Around the house, the cats and dogs view me (with camera in tow) as a Soul Stealer. Apparently that reputation is shared with the various water fowl at the park/lake a few blocks from home.
I have spent a few days over the past week trying to capture a shot of the Great Blue Heron who calls the lake its home. The first time I stumbled upon the *perfect* shot of the bird, it was perched on a fallen log less than 4 feet away from the walking path. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Of course, I didn't have my camera with… Later that afternoon, I returned to the park to see if I could still get a photo. The Heron was still at the lake, only s/he was hanging out in the middle of the lake near the marshy island. My long lens is nice, but not that nice. My photos were able to pick up the Heron, but any detail was lost because of the distance (and my inability to take anything but macro shots!).
Yesterday's beautiful weather beckoned for a walk around the lake. Camera gear in tow, I spotted the Heron standing along the eastern edge of the lake, a lake bordered by thick plantings of reeds and grasses. Getting a descent shot would be difficult, if not impossible. Especially after the first click and whir of the camera… The camera-shy Heron was immediately suspicious of my presence, precariously perched along the edge of the lake.
The wind was blowing gale-force at times and I had to contend with the reeds/grasses whipping wildly about (never mind the fact that I was also fearful of being blown into the water!). I was able to get a few photos before the Heron was spooked by an approaching yellow Lab.
I admit it. I have felt like a whirling dervish (minus the energy), spiraling out of control, teetering on the edge of sanity, afraid that a mis-step will result in my losing my grip on reality and plummeting over the edge into oblivion.
I suspect that it's a combination of seasonal issues (too many ghosts from the past insist on haunting me when the leaves begin to turn), rampant hormones and perhaps a little thyroid dysfunction thrown in. The anxiousness that has embraced me over the past couple of days has led me to seriously contemplate for the first time that drug therapy might be a good idea. (I know a few folks who might go so far as to suggest electric shock therapy…) So concerned with my frazzled mindset this morning (the third such day), I asked a friend who wrestles daily with the black dog of depression if it's possible to start and stop anti-depressant drugs or if you are forever tied to little pills once you start medicating. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that you can start and stop certain drugs (but that it's important that the doctor know this is your intention beforehand).
This left me questioning WHY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH would anyone WANT to continue drug therapy forever and ever, amen? I can't even stay on a daily vitamin regimen for more than 10 days without losing interest in the popping of pills. The fact that I've often thought I'm suffering thyroid issues has stopped me from seeking medical diagnosis specifically because the idea of having to take a pill a day for the rest of my life doesn't exactly thrill me.
While my morning was disconcerting, the cloud of melancholy lifted late in the afternoon and the ride home found me in a much better mood. No pill required.
Tomorrow's another day…
A walk in the woods this morning produced some interesting shots of fungi.