Savannah, Day 3

April 21, 2026 • 8:45 am

Yesterday involved a lot of walking, much of it with no destination, but I did get in 12,000 steps. Our plan was to take a two-hour walking architecture tour at 9:30, followed by a search for lunch. Unfortunately, my friend Tim got lost on our walk to the tour’s starting point, and we missed the whole tour. The plan then changed to an attempt to have lunch at the famous Mrs. Wilkes’ Dining Room, an all-you-can eat dining experience with great Southern food. But we missed that, too: we found we could change our architecture tour to 1 p.m., and so missed the first seating at Mrs. Wilkes’s.

So it was back to Ogelthorpe Square for the second tour attempt, which succeeded. In between, we grabbed a forgettable lunch at a Mexican restaurant and some excellent ice cream at a famous place.

First, the street where we’re staying again: Jones Street, which our tour guide called “The most beautiful street in Savannah”, lined as it is with oak trees and old houses:

And a portion of the long line at Mrs. Wilkes’. This is an every day occurrence as the place is famous and it doesn’t take reservations. After one seating, you have to wait until a table vacates (you sit with nine strangers) before you can get in, and we missed the first seating. In the meantime, Tim managed to get us on the 1 p.m. tour without paying extra.

After lunch, the first stop was Leopold’s Ice Cream, founded in 1919.  From Wikipedia:

In August 2004, Leopold’s moved to its present home on East Broughton Street, in Savannah’s downtown, where it is known for regularly having a line of customers waiting outside.  Stratton Leopold hired Hollywood production designer Dan Lomino to recreate his father’s soda fountain from the original store.  The ice cream is made, using the same recipes developed by his father and uncle, at a former wholesale florist building at 37th and Price Streets and brought over to the store as necessary.

Leopold’s signature flavor is tutti frutti, a favorite of Savannah’s Johnny Mercer, who worked in the shop as a ten-year old, sweeping floors,  while former U.S. President Jimmy Carter’s favorite was the butter pecan. Carter wrote the foreword to Leopold’s Ice Cream: A Century of Tasty Memories, 1919–2019 (Melanie Bowden Simón, 2020).

The outside:

The inside; I didn’t see a soda fountain (perhaps this counter is the remains), but they had a gazillion flavors of ice cream. And yes, there was a line outside.

The newest flavors were also listed outside, and I immediately decided to get the top two, neither of which I’d had before:

My double scoop of lavender and cherry blossom (I ascertained first that they used real flowers). It was terrific: high in butterfat content, dense, and with very subtle flavors. Two scoops after lunch made me walk slower on the architecture tour!

Our first stop was the house of Juliette Gordon Low (1860-1927), who married an uncaring git named William Mackay Lowe, who often cheated on her.  During her long periods of being alone, Low learned metalworking, pottery, and other skills. She in fact made this wrought-iron gate at her house:

Low had a tumultuous life, and was almost cheated out of her inheritance as her husband left his money to his mistress. But the will was successfully contested, Low got the dosh, and looked for a worthy project to occupy her. Her project was to found the American Girl Guides, which became the Girl Scouts of America. Eighteen girls were enrolled, and the organization continues today.

Below is a photo from Wikipedia labeled, “Juliette Gordon Low (center) standing with two Girl Scouts, Robertine McClendon (left) and Helen Ross (right).” They’re all in Girl Scout uniform. We were told that every summer Girl Scouts from all over America make a pigrimate to visit Low’s house in Savannah.

Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

The bench where Forrest Gump (Tom Hanks) catches a floating white feather (symbolizing the “randomness” of fate) was located right next to the church above, but although the bench was a Hollywood prop and is no longer there, tourists still come in droves to be photographed at the bench site.  That famous scene is below:

A typical scene: Southern live oak (Quercus virginiana) covered with Spanish moss (Tillandsia usneoides), a flowering epiphyte that’s neither a moss nor Spanish.

Another epiphyte on an oak tree, Pleopeltis spor “resurrection fern,” The AI Google search explains the name:

The resurrection fern (Pleopeltis polypodioides) is named for its remarkable ability to survive long periods of drought by curling up its fronds, turning grey-grown, and appearing dead. When exposed to moisture—even just a little water—it rapidly uncurls and turns vibrant green within 24 hours, appearing to “resurrect”.

There is a drought in Savannah now, so you see the fern in its moribund state:

Below is the Green-Meldrim Mansion, built in 1853 and a National Historic Landmark.  The photo below the house explains its historical significance as Union General Sherman’s headquarters in Savannah (upper floor, two window to the right). While Sherman burned much of Georgia during his infamous 1864 March to the Sea that pretty much ended the Civil War, he spared Savannah because it expelled its Confederate troops and surrendered to the Union Army.

Click to enlarge:

One of the many buildings of the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), one of the world’s most famous art schools.  Their philosophy is to have art taught by those who make art, not by academics, and I’m told they have a 99% placement rate of its graduates. The school is so wealthy that it participates in Savannah’s ongoing efforts to buy and refurbish historic buildings exactly as they were: a laborious and expensive effort.

In fact it occupies many of the buildings it’s bought and refurbished: this is Poetter Hall, the National Guard Armory in the late nineteenth century. It was SCAD’s first academic building.

A monument to (and burial place) of Casimir Pulaski, a Pole who moved to America and fought for the colonial army during the American Revolutionary War, saving George Washington’s life.  He’s a much beloved Polish-American.

Below is the Mercer House (now the Mercer House Museum), completed in 1868. It’s famous for reasons set out in Wikipedia:

The house was the scene of the 1981 killing of Danny Hansford by the home’s owner Jim Williams, a story that is retold in the 1994 John Berendt book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. The house is also featured in the movie adaptation of the book, released three years later. Williams held annual Christmas parties at Mercer House, on the eve of the Savannah Cotillion Club‘s debutante ball, which were the highlight of many people’s social calendars.  Williams had an “in” box and an “out” box for his invitations, depending on whether or not the person was in Williams’s favor at the time.

The site of the killing was the room on the first floor whose window is bottome left.

Williams went through four trials for the killing, but no jury in Savannah would convict this popular man, so he esceped punishment, though he did spend some time in jail awaiting trial.

The house was build by the great-grandfather of lyricist Johnny Mercer (“Moon River,” “And the Angels Sing,” “You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby,” etc.) but nobody named Mercer ever lived in the house.

Because of the movie “Forrest Gump,” Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and the subsequent movie, tourism in Savannah has increased by several-fold in recent years.

Another Historic District house. I can find its picture on Google Image Search, but not its name:

The Armstrong-Kessler Mansion, once owned by Jim Williams (see above): a lousy panoramic shot due to the absence of a viewpoint that didn’t endanger me. From Wikipedia:

The Armstrong Kessler Mansion (formerly known as Armstrong House) is a nationally significant example of Italian Renaissance Revival architectural style located in the Savannah Historic District. The structure was built between 1917 and 1919 for the home of Savannah magnate George Ferguson Armstrong (1868–1924). It was owned by the Armstrong family from 1919 to 1935. Afterward, the structure and grounds served as the campus of Armstrong Junior College. Threatened with demolition, the Historic Savannah Foundation purchased the Armstrong House along with five other threatened historic buildings from the college for $235,000 in 1967. Once saved, Historic Savannah Foundation sold the Mansion (and Hershel V. Jenkins Hall) at the exact purchase price to preservationist and antique dealer Jim Williams who restored it as his home. Eventually, both were sold to a major Savannah law firm as offices.

It’s HUGE and has lovely gardens that are not open to the public. Our guide got to see them, though, and showed us photos.

Finally, a Jew church in Savannah! Yes, a Gothic Revival style synagogue, the only one I know of.  Congregation Mickve Israel was founded in 1735, almost immediately after Savannah was settled. It was formed by Sephardic Jews and is now a reform temple . The building dates from 1876, and is built to look like a church as the Jews didn’t want to stick out in Christian Savannah.

A note from Wikipedia:

The Congregation was the first Jewish community to receive a letter from the President of the United States. In response to a letter sent by Levi Sheftall, the congregation’s president, congratulating George Washington on his election as the first President, Washington replied, “To the Hebrew Congregation of the City of Savannah, Georgia”:

… May the same wonder-working Deity, who long since delivering the Hebrews from their Egyptian Oppressors planted them in the promised land – whose providential agency has lately been conspicuous in establishing these United States as an independent nation – still continue to water them with the dews of heaven and to make the inhabitants of every denomination participate in the temporal and spiritual blessings of that people whose God is Jehovah.

“That people whose God is Jehovah”—as opposed to those people whose God was the REAL God!

The plaque outside (click to enlarge).

We had no food ot note yesterday save the ice cream, but in about an hour from this writing we’re off to Mrs. Wilkes’s Boarding House for a gigantic Southern meal

Readers’ wildlife photos

November 12, 2025 • 8:15 am

We’re down to one more contribution, and then the tank runs dry. Please send in your GOOD photos, preferably a related group instead of singletons.

Today’s penultimate photo-and-text post comes from Athayde Tonhasca Júnior, and is part III of a series of his visit to a park in Brazil (see parts 1 and 2 here and here). Athayde’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

Chapada Diamantina – III

About 70 km from Lapa Doce, we arrive at Lençóis (len-soh-iss), the main gateway to Chapada Diamantina National Park.

The village of Lençóis was established around 1845 with the discovery of diamonds along the Lençóis river (pictured) and other watercourses in the region. This was a magnet to adventurers, deserters, runaways, visionaries, petty criminals, big criminals, women of ill repute, preachers, government officials and other ne’er-do-wells. Like any hard work carried out during most of Brazilian history, diamond panning was done by slaves, who built the bridge over the river:

Between 1845 and 1871, Lençóis was the world’s largest diamond producer. At the height of its wealth, the town had a cinema, two newspapers and a French vice-consulate. Here, the former residence of a local nabob:

Things become to unravel in the 1860s, with the progressive depletion of diamonds. But the death knell came in 1865 with the discovery of diamonds in South Africa. Most people left and the town quickly fell into decay. Fortune turned again in the 1990s when outsiders discovered the region’s natural beauty. Today, luxury hotels, B&Bs, dozens of tourism agencies and restaurants cater to national and foreign tourists:

A view of Chapada Diamantina National Park. The 152,000-ha park was created in 1985 with the help of American biologist Roy Funch, who arrived in the area in 1978 and still works as a local guide. The park comprises caatinga xerophytic formations, cerrado (a type of tropical savanna) Atlantic Forest vegetation, meadows and rocky plateaus (chapadas):

Detail of lithophytes (plants that grow on bare rock) on a plateau top. This local flora has high degrees of diversity and endemism, but it is still poorly known. An open field for a beginner botanist:

Most park visitors head for the waterfalls and natural pools (of outstanding beauty), but we wanted to explore the caatinga, a UNESCO designated biosphere reserve and one of the world’s less studied biomes. All the ‘dead’ vegetation in this photo will spring to life at the first seasonal rainfall:

These two cacti are some of the caatinga‘s most ubiquitous sights: mandacaru (Cereus jamacaru) on the left, and xique-xique (Xiquexique gounellei). They both look disagreeable desert denizens to be kept at arm’s length, but there’s more to them than their sharp, painful thorns. These cacti are important fodder for cattle, goats and sheep in times of water scarcity (they are scorched slightly before being given to animals). Mandacaru‘s fruit feeds humans and wildlife, and its woody stem is valued in carpentry for its resistance to termites. Xique-xique flour can be added to goat’s milk for the production of yogurt with supposedly better probiotic quality:

This ‘stone’ is a tuber of a umbuzeiro tree (Spondias tuberosa), a natural water reservoir. The tuber network of a single tree can store up to 3,000 l of water during the dry season. The umbuzeiro fruit is consumed by wildlife and humans, and it’s sold in local markets:

We wrap up with a moqueca (moh-keh-kah), a seafood stew (fish or prawns) that is a must in the Brazilian cuisine and that best reflects its African, native American and Portuguese heritages. There are regional variations, but this moqueca was made with fish in a base of tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic, palm oil and coconut milk. Urucum (Bixa orellana) pigment was added for colour, and chopped coriander sprinkled on top. Served with rice, pirão (a thick cream made with cassava flour and fish stock) and farofa (toasted cassava flour, onions, spices and nuts from a local palm tree). A fabulous dish from Nega and Jéssica, owners of Duas Irmãs (two sisters) restaurant.

After a gruesome 420-km drive dodging colossal potholes and nihilistic, homicidal motorists, we arrived back to Salvador, Bahia State’s capital and Brazil’s capital until 1763. The city is rich in cultural traditions, but like in any of the country’s big cities, you’d better mind your wallet, phone, empty alleys and overtly friendly strangers. As the natives say, Brasil não é para amadores – Brazil is not for amateurs:

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 10, 2024 • 8:15 am

PLEASE send in your good wildlife photos as we’re running low. I am considering making this post sporadic rather than daily, as I don’t like repeatedly asking for photos. But if you got ’em, send ’em in.

Today we have some from Athayde Tonhasca Júnior on depictions of fantastical wildlife, gargoyles, and persons on buildings. Athayde’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Eerie fauna of yore

If you walk by a medieval cathedral, university or town hall in France, Italy, Spain, Germany or the United Kingdom, you may look up and catch sight of a creature staring back at you with stony eyes and an unearthly smile or grimace. These hallucinatory figures are gargoyles or grotesques, types of sculpture carved in the form of mythological beings or unsightly human faces. A gargoyle is a fancy waterspout that projects from a roof and carries rainwater away from the walls of a building, protecting the masonry from water damage. Grotesques look like gargoyles but have no architectural purpose: they are decorative carvings fixed to walls, high ledges or rooftops. When sculpted as faces, grotesques are known as mascarons. Inside a building, you may spot one of those figures carved on a boss, which is an ornamental knob on a ceiling, wall or sculpture.

A gargoyle standing guard by a saint in Pisa, Italy:

A sphynx-like grotesque in Bari, Italy:

A mascaron in Bologna depicting a lecherous-looking faun.

Below: one of the hundreds of bosses at The John Rylands Library in Manchester (they are not easy to photograph with a telephone because of the dim light). The spectacular collection of rare books and manuscripts and the building’s neo-Gothic architecture make the library alone worth a visit to Manchester. You will feel like you’re entering Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (but despite some claims, Harry Potter was not filmed there):

Animal-shaped waterspouts have been used by ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Etruscans and Romans, but gargoyles and grotesques really picked up during the Gothic period (12th century). By the Renaissance, these structures become elaborate and fanciful, with a profusion of chimeras (mythical combinations of animals, including humans). Gargoyles and grotesques were generally painted with vivid colours, and some were also gilded. The drab figures we see today have been weathered by the erosive effects of rainwater.

Gargoyles in Perth, UK.:

Sheridan & Ross (Grotesques and Gargoyles: Paganism in the Medieval Church, 1969) suggested that gargoyles and grotesques were modeled after pre-Christian Celtic deities whose images could ward off malevolent spirits. The more bizarre and alarming the figures, the better; by drawing attention to themselves, they would deflect harm from people and their buildings. Christians could have adopted these pagan traditions that were tolerated by the Church for their usefulness as PR. But Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153), Saint Bernard to Catholics, didn’t buy any of that nonsense: “What are these fantastic monsters doing in the cloisters under the very eyes of the brothers as they read? What is the meaning of these unclean monkeys, strange savage lions and monsters? To what purpose are here placed these creatures, half beast, half man?… Surely if we do not blush for such absurdities we should at least regret what we have spent on them”. Indeed, nobody knows for sure the reason for these skilled carvings. The craftsmen who created them left no written records, so their motivation is a mystery: these sculptures may very well be whimsical, nothing more than the product of master masons’ irreverence and sense of humour (Woodcock, 2011. Gargoyles and Grotesques).

A mascaron adorning the bell tower door of the church of Santa Maria Formosa, Venice:

Some of the hundreds of gargoyles and grotesques decorating the magnificent Milan Cathedral (Duomo di Milano), which took nearly six centuries to complete. You need binoculars or a camera with a good zoom to properly appreciate them:

A building guardian in Altamura, Italy:

Gargoyles and grotesques have celebrity status at Notre-Dame Cathedral, but those structures are not particularly old. They were created by architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc (1814-1879), who in 1844 was given the task of renovating the cathedral. Viollet-le-Duc was criticized for adding more figures and sculptures than was historically accurate, probably because he was caught up in the resurgent interest in medieval art and architecture. This Gothic revival was inspired by Victor Hugo’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and other popular stories involving mysterious castles, gloomy mansions, and the supernatural (Reilly 1966, The Dictionary of Art, Vol 12).

Gargoyles of Notre Dame, Paris:

The tradition of artistic freedom among master carvers continues. Salamanca Cathedral in Spain features an astronaut grotesque, and the Alien monster was carved into the structure of Paisley Abbey in Britain. Punks, Queen Elizabeth, nurses and local personalities have also been immortalised as gargoyles and grotesques.

This mascaron on a bridge over the river Spree in Berlin is supposed to represent Cesar, but the cheeky locals call it Angela Merckel:

With time, aesthetics replaced functionality and religiosity. Stonemasons, sculptors and blacksmiths used gargoyles and grotesques to display wealth, status and fashion.

Fancy corbels (structural brackets) in Noto, Syracuse Province, Italy.

From buildings, the fantastical human-animal imagery diffused into other designs and types of ornamentation such as doorknobs and knockers, and there’s no better place than Venice to admire their craftmanship. Elaborate bronze doorknobs (modern ones are usually made of brass, iron or wood) depict people, mythological characters or animals. Lions are quite popular for representing bravery, nobility and strength, or the Lion of San Marco, Venice’s symbol.

A doorknob poised to bite unwelcome visitors to a Venetian house:

A Venetian doorknob suggesting an African model:

A sour-looking escutcheon, which is an ornamental plate surrounding handles or key holes and designed to protect the door against nicks and scratches:

Well-off ancient Greeks seem to have come up with the idea of attaching a heavy ring to a metal plate to let guests announce their arrival, so doing away with uncouth shouting or door-banging. Rich Romans, who looked up to the chic Greeks for new trends, quicky adopted the practice. Their homes were fitted with fancy knockers and an ostiarius, a gate-keeping slave. Some door knockers have magic powers, like the one that transubstantiated into Jacob Marley, Scrooge’s old business partner, to help the miserly old git change into a happy, generous man (Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol).

The Sanctuary Knocker on Durham Cathedral. In Medieval times, people who had committed ‘a great offence’ (usually murder or theft) would come to the cathedral and grasp the knocker’s ring – there was no knocking, despite its name. A monk on watch above the door would ring a bell to announce that sanctuary had been granted. The fugitive could stay for 37 days; afterwards, if no royal pardon was forthcoming, he had to decide whether to face trial or go into exile. If choosing the latter, the miscreant had to confess his crime and swear to leave the country and never come back:

An end comes to us all: a gargoyle or grotesque eroding away in Bari:

Readers’ wildlife photos

November 4, 2023 • 8:30 am

Today we’ll have a mélange of photos that have accumulated over the past months from readers who sent in just a couple of pix. The captions are indented, and click on the photos to enlarge them.

From Jon Alexandr:

I’m not a biologist, but I do occasionally like to take photos of plants and animals, including “bugs.” Because I favor its handy small size, I’m still using an old, first-generation iPhone SE (2016 or 2017), so it’s not “professional” photography. Still, I think the attached impromptu photo of a “grasshopper” in a wood pile next to my house has a certain presence, which is maybe amplified by the lighting, shapes, and textures.
The grasshopper’s body was just slightly more than an inch long, I estimate, not counting the extremities. Location is San Francisco East Bay, Contra Costa County.

From Bryan Lepore, sent October 29:

 I spotted what I think is a tree frog, genus Dryophytes, today. Middlesex county, MA.She is about the size of my thumbnail and has a very long jump span. Usually, I see what I think are Leopard frogs (genus Lithobates) jump like that but they’re green. Maybe she’s a brown variant, or a differeny frog.

Two animals photos and an architecture photo from reader joolz:

 Two of my photographs from the Oceanographic Museum, Monaco 2023.  Taken through glass.
Lion fish [Pterois sp.]. Oceanographic Museum, Monaco 2023. Didn’t take a photo of the info.
Longspined Porcupine Fish – Diodon holocanthus. Info on sign: “At the slightest danger it inflates its body, pushing its spines outwards to protect itself. The fish of the Diodontidae family are toxic and unfit for human consumption. In Japan, where they are eaten in sushi, a special licence is needed to cook them.”

Queen Hatshepsut‘s Temple at Deir El Bahri, Egypt. Taken from a hot air balloon decades ago.

Hatshepsut was very powerful and took on the role of Pharoah. She wore the pharaonic regalia, which includes a false beard, so trans activists claim she was transgender, but there is no basis for this assertion. She just wore the standard regalia that all pharaohs wore. Her stepson Thutmose III had her name erased from monuments and she was unknown for centuries. Thankfully her legacy as a female Pharoah was restored when the hieroglyphs at this temple were translated in the 1800s.

Photos of the solar eclipse that occurred on October 14. The first is from Don McCrady:

Thought I’d send you a hot-off-the-press shot of this year’s annular solar eclipse, this one from Winnemucca, Nevada.An annular solar eclipse is a total eclipse of the sun by the moon, where the moon is far enough away from the earth that its disk does not fully cover the sun’s, creating a “ring of fire” effect such as this one.  I took this with a Canon EOS R5 with an RF 100-500 x1.4 extender, for a total focal length of 700mm.

From Avis James:

Bill and I went to a field half way between Ruidoso and Roswell New Mexico in the path of the annular eclipse this morning.  We took a colander- it is has the Star of David pattern:
Here is the shadow it made at full angularity!  The dot in the middle of each circle is the moon in the middle of the sun!

From John Runnels, “Unknown mushroom species, Baton Rouge, Louisiana.” (Readers: can you ID?)

Finally, a weird giraffe from Bob Wooley of Asheville, NC:

I know you don’t usually do zoo photos, but if you feel like making an exception for an exceptional animal, you’re welcome to use these. You featured a story about this amazing unspotted baby giraffe the other day. I live about 90 minutes from Brights Zoo in eastern Tennessee, where she was born, so today I went there to see her for myself. It’s very difficult to get good pictures of her because her enclosure has a tight-mesh fence that you have to shoot through (unless you have a 12-foot-long photo stick). That’s why most of the news stories just use pictures and videos given to them by the zoo. But I got several that I think are worth sharing, and hold up to on-screen embiggening. She’s a seriously beautiful creature.

Readers’ wildlife photos

October 23, 2021 • 8:00 am

Today’s bird photos come from Paul Edelman, a Professor of Mathematics and Law at Vanderbilt University. Paul’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them. We also have two singletons by other readers at the bottom.

Some more bird pictures from our neighborhood pond.

We have a pair of Belted Kingfishers (Ceryle alcyon) that nest in the area.  They make a loud ratcheting sound when they fly. This pair was chasing each other all over the pond.  I was fortunate to get them in flight, something I’ve tried to do many times before.

I had seen a Northern Flicker (Colaptes auratus) during the late winter and early spring, but this is the first time in a while.  This particular one is “yellow-shafted morph” with the characteristic red patch on the back of its head and the yellow tail feathers. 

I also caught this Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) perched in the trees over the pond.  Not sure what he was looking for.

In trees along with numerous titmice and chickadees were a number of Tennessee Warblers (Vermivora peregrine) and a solitary Ruby-crowned Kinglet (Regulus calendula).

Warbler:

Kinglet:

I have another picture—the odd hybrid duck with a couple of mallards [Anas platyrhynchos].  [JAC: Neither of us are sure what this duck is, but I think it’s the result of a cross between wild mallards and Pekin ducks, which are the white ones: also mallards but bred for color, docility, and meat. The mallard in the rear is likely a hybrid as well, but could be a wild mallard “greening up” into his breeding plumage.]

From Christopher Moss, a baby American red squirrel:

Our young friend of the Tamiasciurus hudsonicus kind:

And a travel/cat/architecture photo from Nikos Kitsakis:

I immediately had to think of you when I took the picture attached. I took it this morning standing next to the greek flag at the Acropolis in Athens at shortly after 8 in the morning (What to call it? Acropocat? Catcropolis?).

Athens has the owl 🦉 as a symbol since ancient times as you know, but all I see all the time are cats 🐈. I think they ate all the owls… 🙂

Readers’ wildlife photos

August 27, 2021 • 8:00 am

Please keep those photos coming in, folkx!

Today we have a melange of travel photos by Joe Routon. Joe’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

First, I’ll post my photos of visitors from Asia who have invaded Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and a few other northeastern states. The nefarious planthopper Spotted Lanternfly (Lycorma delicatula) is wreaking havoc with trees. The photo on the left was taken around the middle of July; the one in the middle, photographed with my new iPhone 12 Pro Max, taken a month later, and the one on the right taken yesterday.

This is the Market Hall in Ghent, Belgium. It’s an open area that’s used for events and concerts.

Here’s my slightly Photoshopped photo of Bran Castle, commonly known as Dracula’s Castle, in Transylvania, Romania.

In the spirit of Brussels’ famous statue Manneken Pis (“Little Pissing Man”), Helsinki, Finland, has its own “Bad Bad Boy,” which is about 28 feet tall.

Here’s one of my photos of the Kremlin in Moscow, Russia.

I made this photo of the Andes Mountains on our trip to Peru.

Here’s one of my photos of the magnificent, breathtakingly beautiful Cologne Cathedral in Germany.

Readers’ wildlife photos

March 11, 2021 • 8:45 am

Thanks to several readers for responding to my plea for photos. But I can still use more, so, as they say in the Army, “smoke if you got ’em.”

Today’s photos are travel photos taken by Joe Routen, featuring spectacular architecture, old and new. Joe’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

Always on the lookout for things that are pleasing to my eyes, I’m often gratified to see beauty in buildings. Here are a few of my favorites.
In France, this is Le Guetteur (“The Watcher”), a building in a mega shopping mall at Dagnes sur Mer. The face is Caesar.

Here’s the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, Turkey.

The transformation of a train station into Musée d’Orsay, one of Paris’ top art museums.

The Orange Cube, a design showroom and office building, in Lyon, France.

The magnificent mosaic artwork in the Church on the Spilled Blood in St. Petersburg, Russia.

The breathtakingly beautiful windows of Sainte-Chapelle in Paris, France.

The Euronews Building in Lyon, France.

Musée des Confluences in Lyon, France.

Interior of La Sagrada Familia* in Barcelona, Spain.

________________

*The church where Professor Ceiling Cat was strip-searched by the Spanish cops