Zur Eisenkappler Hütte

 

Via a well maintained road I drove up to the Eisenkappler Hut, at an elevation of 1,560 meters.

The top of the "Hoch Obir" reaches 2,139 meters. While not a difficult hike, it would be simply too much for  an out of condition 88 year old man, So I drove to the Hut and then wondered about as far as my weary legs would carry me.

                               Here are a few pictures                                             which I got during this foggy, frosty afternoon.

Hoar Frost at a very certain elevation.

None below and none above this narrow band.

On the sunny side of this narrow Valley:

Some errant rays of the mid-day Sun

catch a narrow sliver of this slope.

If you look very carefully, 

you'll see a church and a farm house  in the lower left corner.

A tiny fleck of blue peeks through a cloudy sky.

A strong wind has come up. 

The red Autumn Leaves will be gone by tomorrow.

The Karawanken alpine range  barely visible in  the haze.

The last blue has disappeared from the sky.

Clouds threaten!

Is it time to turn around?

Just another look at the Karawanken Alpine Range.

This used to be a waterfall!

Now it is a cascading frozen memory of one.

But this mountain brook races downhill too fast.

It can therefore not yet freeze.

It waits until the minus temperatures sink much much lower.

This little Mill has decided to wait until Spring

before it becomes lively and active again.

When there is nothing but Fog, then Fog is all you get.

 

Lonesome!

Not at all inviting for a Rest !

The Silhouette of Farm buildings and of a pick-up truck

looks almost eerie !

Fenceposts 

The Knights of the Road!

 Got a bit tired driving the other day, so I pulled into  rest stop to close my eyes for a few minutes. Trucks upon trucks lined up. It's a Sunday and trucks are not allowed on Austria's highways on Sunday.

There is this one which caught my eye. The epitome of the lonesome life of an overland trucker.

On Saturday evening he pulls into one of the many rest stops. He goes and has a bite to eat. Maybe he'll have a beer or two. Some of the stops, when there is a Restaurant, also have showers.  What a break. He'll get the sweat off his body and the tiredness off his bones.

If he wants "to do his laundry" a little imagination is required.

And here it is: "The Quick Laundry" no Ironing required....

Just caught this one, as I was about to leave, out of the corner of my eye.

I simply had to take his picture and then turn around to take some more. 

The lighting was terrible, with the sun streaming behind the truck.

Although, from a technical point, these pictures are nothing to be proud of,

I want you to see them still.

He's been on the road, all da long. He too got tired.

Probably he called his wife, to tell her that he is "bushed, but Okay".

Maybe he grabbed a bite to eat and a couple of beers with a trucker friend,

But it's not a life I would relish.

I should have waited around to get this "Knight of the Road"

working in his "Laundromat."

 

"GOTT" by Ferdinand von Schirach

Eine Empfehlung an alle meine Deutsch sprechende Freunde.

Öffne Google und geh' zu der  Kategorie "Gott".

Dort wirst Du ein Drama von Ferdinand von Schirach finden, welches "Hilfe zum Selbstmord" und nebenbei andere Fragen zum Thema hat. 

Es ist dies eines der interesantesten  Behandlungen dieses heiklen Themas.

A recommendation to all my German speaking friends:

Google "Gott" and find the most interesting play by 

Ferdinand von Schirach

about the question of assisted suicide.

Many other issues are also dealt with in this insightful Drama.

Bertstravels

travels further than Sillian

The true story of a Grouse and me.

Steve Schwartze, renowned Ornithologist, the son of my good friend Andreas, (Andy) Schwartze, asked me how many different kinds of Grouse I had encountered in my travels.

Probably many, but they remained specifically unrecognized, due to my abysmal ignorance in the field .

All I know is that "this was a beautiful bird".

Here is one of my "close encounters" with a Grouse:

The sound of a nearby Harley Davidson woke me out of a shallow sleep in my tent, one early morning in the wilds of Algonquin Park.

This is not possible, I thought. I'm in the middle of Algonquin. There cannot be a Harley, or any other motorcycle.

I rubbed sleep out of my eyes.

Dawn had just broken.

The day promised to be a great one.

This, I thought is not a Harley, but a Grouse drumming to announce the protection of its territory, or to call a mate, or to just say 'Hello' to the new day.

I grabbed my Nikon with the 24 to 300 mm Zoom and followed the 'drumming" .

Slowly and quietly I made my way through the dense brush.

I head learned that during the drumming, a Grouse neither sees nor hears external sounds well. He is almost in a trance.

Likely in anticipation of meeting a young Grouse-Chick.

In this respect a Grouse's behavior resembles closely the behavior of a young male human. When he feels the proximity of a female of the species, he also throws caution to the wind.

I, very cautiously made my way toward the drumming sound. During the drumming I crept a little closer. As soon as the drumming stopped, I just remained motionless, lying on the pungent, smelling ground.

More drumming.... more creeping a little forward...

drumming stopped, I stopped all movement....

until suddenly I could make out this beautiful Grouse, sitting on a long ago fallen log.

He drummed, I tripped the shutter... He stays silent, I and my camera made not a sound.

And so I came close enough to get those pictures:

A lovely trip, spoilt by my exuberance.

 Sillian, East Tirol

Yesterday was the second day after the last three weeks, during which the Sun shone from the bluest of blue skies.

The decision to drive 200 km to the East Tirolean town of 'Sillian” was an easy one to make.

I should have stayed home: Then I would not have run into a Radar trap which allegedly clocked me doing 130 km/h on a 100 Zone. In addition to this the cop gave me a hard time, since, due to the total, Pandemic caused lock-down, he said, I should not have been on the road at all.

Oh, well, that's the way it goes and that's the way the cookie crumbles.

What bothered me more than anything was the cop's aggressive and unfriendly behavior, which gives the whole force a bad name.

Yes, I know, I should not have exceeded the posted speed limit, and the cop just did his job!

Nevertheless, here are some pictures of this Valley.

As you drive along, there is a hill range, swiftly changing into a mountain range on the right. Then two lanes of highway, ( one lane each way)

A narrow riverbed snakes along, beside the road. Then there is a Railroad track and then a narrow strip of land, all of it squeezed between the hill on your right and a steep wall of a mountain on your left.

Just when you think that all of this is a bit oppressive, the Valley opens up into still green meadow land, Pitch black and white (or nearly white) sheep graze in absolute peace.

A small herd of cows, contentedly ruminating, rest in the sparse shade of some now almost leafless trees.

And then, into this scene of tranquility and quiet contemplation comes the howling of a cop-car and the expectation of a speeding ticket in the mail.

“Kinda wrecks your mood”.........

The Church of Sillian, in the Province of East Tirol.

There must be an interesting story 

behind the two totally different steeples.

A Rose is just a Rose! But a Bird can also fly!

 Just a few of the many "Bird-Pictures" I took in Africa.

After the sound of its call,

this is 

the "Goaway Bird."

"Gray headed King Fisher."

"Swallow- tailed Bee Eater"

"Lilac Breasted Roller"

How do you spell it? simple: i and t

 Notice:

Because of Covid-19, the anual speling bea has been cancul... cancil...

oh hell: It's been called off!

Birds for your viewing pleasure

 Digging back into my Algonquin bird pictures, here a few.

Below: Two, count them, two "Red winged Blackbirds" 

(Okay, so one of them is up-side down )

A close-up of the same bird. singing.

He should be at "the Met."

***************

Is this a "Northern Oriole?"

Yes, it is!

Here we have a "Scarlet Tanager!"

Talk about a "fashion hound" 

he color coordinated his wings and tail with the burnt tree stump he sits on.

and then: Who is He?

He introduced himself as the

"Eurasian Oriole" or aka the "Pirol!"

He is a bit of a snob. Isn't he?

Three guesses

 but no prize for guessing right.

WHERE ARE THEY HEADING?

         Where will they end up? 

 I don't know!

Do they?

One more...

 

As a comment about my postings below, somebody mentioned Karl Marx...,

While I totally disagree with his economic theories, which have shown time and again to be without merit, ( I think he should get his tuition fees back from the Universities in which he attended lectures ) I do agree with what he had to say about Religion:

"The first requisite for the happiness of the people is the abolition of Religion."

And that's about the only thing he said which makes any sense.

Bertstravels

does not want to debate Marx.

They said that !?

 Nobel Price winning Physicist: Steven Weinberg said:

Religion is an insult to human dignity. With or without it, you'd have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, it takes Religion.

Philosopher, Mathematician,  Blaise Pascal (1623 -1662) said:

Men never do evil things so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction!

Not everything 'Yellow' is an Oriole.

 

Just cruising along the hills outside of Bleiburg,

mindin' my own business, what do I see?

Here! In the middle of this picture!!!

Look!!

...a brilliantly yellow Bird! An Oriole, no doubt.

or, maybe a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker?

I get closer and closer.

I grab my camera and take a few shots.

The bird does not move.

He does not fly away.

He just keeps staring at me.

... then I see why this "bird" has no fear. Why it does not fly away.

This Bird ain't no Bird.

This Bird is a few  yellow leaves on a young birch tree.

That's how Nature can fool you.

Into the Valley of the Malta.

 Day before yesterday I just got into my car and drove into             the "wild blue yonder."

A little less than 100 km later I arrived at the mouth of the "Malta Tal," the Valley of the River Malta.  And what a beautiful Valley it is. There are 5 or 6 waterfalls cascading from the sides of the mountains. Unfortunately, a photograph can only approximate the beauty of this place. But, being the intrepid explorer - picture taker I am, I shall try to give you an idea.

So come with me for this short adventure into "the Valley of the Malta"

The Birch trees have turned into a golden Yellow,

the coniferous trees, however,  have remained faithful to their Green.

From the very center of this mountainside 

a waterfall cascades.

Another Falls comes from atop this rock face. 

The snow powdered tip peeks from above a layer of clouds.

Stubbornly clinging to the bare rock face, 

 a growth of  blooming moss defends its right to exist.

Like lace, hiding the Bride's lovely face, 

the Fall explodes into a million drops.

above: at 4.00 PM

below: at 4.30 PM