random bus trip number four started out much less than promising; the big red that came along first was one i've ridden end to end more than a few times. but the rules are i get on the first bus that comes, and so board i did. i was all about breaking the rules 40 blocks later though, i couldn't stand for one minute longer to listen to the conversation going on on the seat behind me. i ditched the bus long before the end of the line and tried to make the most of where i landed. things there weren't very promising.

i managed a few shots of a fallow field and a pretty cool macro of a spider, but adventure still seemed very far away. pretty much wholly discouraged, i set off towards a stand of trees.

the trees begat a small pond, and that small pond was attached to a small creek, and as i wandered its shore things became a little more interesting. all the same, it was all tree shade and green, the sort of dimmed daylight that calls for a 'pod, of which i'd none along. i did my best anyway, and it was during one such moment of trying hard that something happened.

i was snapping a weepy-wet willow or perhaps some pondgrass when i got that feeling. you know the one, the one where you're certain you're being watched, the feeling of two eyes upon your back regarding everything you do. in a moment i could take it no longer and i spun around.

the first picture from the spin is a mess, the camera was set on a tight aperture and i was at once frightened and but a moment later fantastically excited. for there were eyes indeed.

i went crazy with the settings! i needed the whole world to freeze that moment! as i fiddled, the eyes, spooked and with a rush of wings that blew the leaves like a helicopter taking off, found another tree.

slightly more calculated, i followed them and did my best.

which is to say, not especially well, but it was a verdant light near sunset and i had no tripod, and knowing nothing of owls save for their reputation as fierce predators, i didn't dare get all that close. handheld, i had to force the iso to 400; the flash was an afterthought to bring out those watching eyes.

i've never seen an owl in the wild before, or even in the wild perilously close to a busy road but near a sleepy creek. we watched each other for quite a while.

all this somewhere i've driven past at least an unhyperbolated thousand times before. each time i've gone on these random bus trips i've been convinced that there's nothing here i haven't seen before. and each time, so far, i've discovered something wonderful. though this time, something wonderful discovered me first.