October 9, 2013

What have we here?

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The door is not locked...

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Beyond...

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31 comments:

El Pollo Raylan said...

A duck blind. The birds are shot through powerful lens which channel harmless photons.

Move along...nothing to see there.

El Pollo Raylan said...

To others it is the moral equivalent the infamous Plötzensee death room outside of berlin.

Ann Althouse said...

I don't want realism. I want magic.

Inga said...

The "beyond" photo is stunning. Dark clouds and bright horizons always makes stop and stare. The late afternoon light is beautiful this time of year and in winter after a fresh snow fall.

David said...

Kill zone.

David said...

Shopping at Sharper Image again, eh Pollo?

Rocketeer said...
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Rocketeer said...

Sure, it looks like a duck blind, but I suspect it's really the conning tower for Planet Earth.

Carol said...

A sportsman's paradise.

[Duck alights from weeds]
quackquackquackquackquack

"Ah, what a magnificent specimen!"

BLAM!

EDH said...

Ann Althouse said...
I don't want realism. I want magic.

Even before I read that, I was about to comment... Meade, hope you got laid in there!

Sigivald said...

Duck meat is magical, Althouse!

surfed said...

It's a "fort". A little upscale but still discernible as such. And might I add, NO GIRLS ALLOWED. That would mean you Perfesser Althouse. Mead will be brought up on double secret charges for allowing you, a girl with cooties, to enter UNLESS, he has some "good" stories to tell about having you alone in there.

surfed said...

I'm talkin' 2nd base or better.

AJ Lynch said...

Is that where Meade stashes his old Playboy magazines?

surfed said...

In 1966 we lived in Virginia Beach and my father was a naval aviator. One of the new younger pilots in his squadron was getting married. His fiancé was making him give up his entire collection of Playboy magazines from #1 with Marilyn up to early '66. My father gave him the ok (!) to dump them all in out detached garage by the ocean in Virginia Beach. The garage was also my teenage surf clubs hangout. It was beyond anything we had ever experienced such were the now unfurtive perusals of feminine flesh. We destroyed half of them but cutting, pasting, taping and hanging them up on the walls. The other half were purloined by anyone who wandered out with one. A veritable fortune today if they had been kept intact. Sigh. The most amazing thing was that my straight laced naval aviator WWII era father gave the thumbs up. I'm 60 years old and that amazes me more than the loss of a fortune.

Moose said...

Magic? You want magic? I'll send you a picture of me in a thong...

virgil xenophon said...

@surfed/

LOL. Ever know how long that marriage lasted?

Ann Althouse said...

My father had every issue of Playboy beginning with the second issue. These were out on the coffee table along with Life and Look. Anyone could read them all they wanted, including me. Nothing was ever said about not reading them.

El Pollo Raylan said...

Nothing was ever said about not reading them

Who "read" Playboy at a young age?

surfed said...

We were teenage boys. In a surf club on the beach with Miss July hanging from the rafters between our surfboards. We were listening to Revolver, Between the Buttons and Blonde on Blonde. Smoking our first joints and discovering girls. What a bitchin' few years of naïve innocence. Set the tone for my whole life.

surfed said...

@Virgil - No clue. Military personnel were always transferred every couple or three years. Plus I was a mere child of 14-ish and the groom was really old at 24-ish.

RecChief said...

so you just walked into someone else's private property?

St. George said...

This door was not locked either.

The scene still works after 53 years.

It is October.

dvlfish13 said...

It's a time share jointly owned by Henry David Thoreau and Werner Herzog.

ALP said...

dvlfish13:

That's hilarious! Thread winner with a cherry on top - extra points for saying so much with so few words.

Keryn said...

Have you ever considered setting up a shop on etsy or some such, to allow people to buy prints or canvases of your photographs? The shot of the pond is stunning--I'd buy it!

NotquiteunBuckley said...

"Nothing was ever said about not reading them."

Interesting. When I read The Thorn Birds in 8th grade I was questioned by a teacher about why I was reading it and if I understood there were adult themes.

Mark said...

Quaka boom.

Carnifex said...

When I was a child my Dad and I would go duck hunting. We would get up at 4 am, and load the car with guns and dog and clothes and coffee. He would drive us out to the lake where we had spent the day before constructing the blind while the dog would play in the water and mud.

He would wake me up, and we would carry our stuff to the blind, me still half asleep. The dog would be running back and forth in excitement.

We'd sit in the cold and watch our breath condense, and the dog would lie beside me shivering in the cold while I stroked her soft thick fur to keep my hands warm and my attention on something.

WE'd drink the coffee that by know had turned luke warm, but it was better than nothing. Bitter, it would remind me of missing cereal in a bowl of milk for breakfast.

Suddenly the dogs ears would perk up, she would sit up and start trembling. Then threw the woods you would hear the whistling of the wings as the ducks dodged through the trees far more agile than any dogfighter could dream. In a flash they would be on us, sometimes dropping straight into the water like bombs, sometimes cirlcling the lake live the bombers.

sometimes we were quick enough to get a shot off, sometimes not. In either case the dog would charge into the water making a powerful wave pushed out by her chest. There she would happily paddle about, picking up our booty, or just swimming if we missed, she was just happy to get wet.

Later, my Dad, and I, and the wet dog, would climb into the cab of Dads truck, and drive back home, where Mom had Christmas supper on the table.

There maybe a reason the Duck Dynasty guys are always Happy Happy Happy

mrs. e said...

Who's structure is that?

EDH said...

One day we found stacks of a neighbor's old Playboys on the curb waiting for the trashman. We took them all and put them under plastic trash bags in an open tree fort. Until the hurricane came through. Probably close to 100 Playboy magazines were strewn across the backyards of all the houses on the block. All the boys for blocks around were feverishly gathering-up the booty.

Easy come, easy go.