the silhouette of Minerva, the Roman Goddess of Wisdom, never to be confused with Athena who is the the same but different (or something: gods and other holy things confuse me so I try to sneak past them unnoticed. It mostly seems to work …)
HAD SHE BEEN
looking up, and to her right, about twenty minutes later she’d have seen an—
—Air New Zealand bucket of bolts letting down into Invercargill Airport. To some it may seem weird that coming down it’s pointing up, but there ya go …
And if this wee chappie appears to be celebrating the plane’s arrival—
—or worshipping ‘big metal bird in sky’ … you couldn’t be further wrong. He’s actually yet another Peter Pan; in this instance it was a frosty morning and he’s just copped a jet of icy water fired up from below that hit him (as a mechanic might say) TDC. Ouch. Given his situation I too would be yelping, but it’s a living I suppose. No-one’s ever heard him complain in the fifty odd years since the Queen Mother unveiled him (I’d love to have seen her face—they were a bit more strait-laced in those days).
NEXT NOT STRICTLY A
silhouette, but what the heck. When on location (as it were) this wee bunch of trees reminded me of the approach canyon to Petra. I’ve never been Petrafied but I loved that Indiana Jones movie—
—and breathing on the lens for the ‘divine fuzz’ effect is perfectly legal too. But the next shot is being sneaked in, piggy-backing in fact; and consummating a photo I posted a couple of months ago. Some of us may remember ol’ Number 37—who when I shot him last was still in velvet. Well, the velvet has gone to his head and turned into a substantial bonnet of horns but thankfully the ‘rut’ is long past and he’s now tame enough to eat out of one’s hands. Proved it …
I first got a nice shot of him broadside on, then another of him chomping a grass or dandelion or whatever. Then being crafty I thought that should a guy with a camera get down really low, and down-sun of him, one might score a silhouette. Man the hunter, atavistic twit.
So I got down low, down-sun, and was lining up to look in the viewscreen when the whole world went dark. One shouldn’t totally concentrate on the task in hand, many a hunter has ended up as food for that very reason. Lucky for me that venison is herbivore based. And there was a wire fence twixt us, always comforting.
He’d ambled over and blocked out all luminescence so I had to go to Plan B which was to say nice things and stand up slowly … but his autumnal hormones had disappeared long since and he’s a big pussycat now. So I fed him handfuls of the grasses he couldn’t reach through the fence—and not a tooth in sight, he tongued the grasses off my palm— (Okay … I had to go wash deer-slobber off my palm later but it was worth it; and I also got this not-a-silhouette of him …)
—afterwards. (And the horn that looked as if it might grow down into his eye has grown and hardened, but stayed out of his eye after all.)
AFTER THE DEAR OL’ DEER
I ambled off back into town to meet The Spouse, and en passant a building with what appeared to be a full aircraft carrier’s worth of assorted electronic hardware—
—I took this intelligence gathering snap. (If anyone in the CIA, the ASS, PIG, or any other American acronym-named ‘services’ is reading this … yes please, slip me a cool million or so and I’ll happily run around NZ snapping aerials) (and doubling your collective intelligence.)
And yes, this shot is legal, it’s a genuine card-carrying silhouette so I’m off the hook.
BUT YOU’RE NOT—
—I had a busy day and have oodles more, some carrying history that goes back thousands of millennia … and I feel an urge to share. Hard luck~! .