Bluebirds!

"Far too often we miss life by doing something that we call ‘life."

― Craig D. Lounsbrough 

Finally! Snotty nose and all, I got outside to enjoy the unseasonably warm afternoon at Pope Farm Conservancy. Fifty-five degrees in February feels less like a gift and more like a quiet apology from a planet running a fever. The warmth made the prairie look ready for a change it could not yet have, its brown stalks standing brittle and tall against the soft sky.

Ask any birder their favorite early spring birdsong and you might hear Red-winged Blackbird or Eastern Meadowlark, but for me, it's the intricate, endlessly variable tune of the Song Sparrow that truly signals the season's turn. But all Wisconsinites know this could easily be a ruse. We have all of March to get through, and winter could easily render a snowy landscape once again. It's a collective exercise in delayed gratification, where we're conditioned to enjoy the thaw without ever quite believing in it.

Next, I headed west along the moraine, hoping to find Eastern Bluebirds.

And there they were, at the end of the long line of oaks ...

Male above, female below ...

A few more shots of the male ...

I felt a genuine sense of gratitude during my digiscoping session; the Eastern Bluebirds were fairly cooperative, and I came away with some decent shots. Full of that quiet joy, I warmed up my macro lens to explore a different kind of beauty, photographing dead prairie plants and their delicate, frozen architecture.

Do you recognize any of them?

Well, that's it for now. I'm just glad I got outside to enjoy the nice weather. It was a perfect reminder of why we endure the long, gray months—for these temporary, beautiful ruses that feel like a promise, even if we know better than to fully trust them just yet.

 

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell

Distinction Between an Expert and a Scientific Consensus

In our ongoing struggle against the rising tide of anti-science rhetoric, few arguments are as insidious as the populist mantra to "trust no one." It's a cry that weaponizes legitimate institutional distrust to flatten the entire hierarchy of evidence, placing a lone dissenting voice on the same plane as a mountain of data. Dr. Jessica Knurick has written a sharp and essential piece that masterfully dismantles this tactic. She argues that the entire premise is a fraudulent conflation, deliberately blurring the line between the fallibility of any single expert and the robust, self-correcting power of the scientific consensus itself. Her article is a crucial read for anyone who wants to understand not just why this argument is wrong, but how it works and how we can better defend the process that remains our best tool for understanding reality.

Cool Tiger Beetle Models!

"Few endeavors, if any at all, I find to be inherently mature or inherently immature. Maturity is neither defined by one's particular preferences nor by one's particular activities; rather, it is defined by the strength of one's character."

― Criss Jami

Every so often I search online for tiger beetle collectibles ― sadly, there isn't much out there. Recently, though, I came across these stunning anatomically accurate models from Bandai Gashapon in Japan. They are available in the US from BigBadToyStore, which is where I ordered mine. The models depict Cicindela chinensis japonica, commonly known as the Japanese Tiger Beetle, though they could be repainted to represent North American species. I won't do that with these two, but maybe I'll get a few more and give it a try.

 

They're snap-together and easy to assemble. Most of the parts are moveable, so they can be put into any number of poses. As you can see above, I put one of them in a flight pose. The stands are included, too. Though I've never photographed a tiger beetle in flight, that really is what they look like, Search google on "flying tiger beetle" and you'll see! 

The four-insect kit also included two Sabertooth Longhorn Beetles (Macrodontia cervicornis), which are found in the rain forests of South America. I've posed this one for flight as well ...

The models are decently sized and look terrific on my desk.

Mandible detail is pretty darn good ...

Here's the other Sabertooth Longhorn Beetle, which I haven't put together yet ...

Anyway, I thought these were cool enough to share!

 

The past couple of weeks have been a battle against one virus after another, or maybe just one particularly nasty bug with a bag of tricks. It began with a week of nausea before morphing into a full-blown cold (and ear infection), which explains my lack of blog posts. I'm hoping this weekend's nicer weather will coax me out for a low-key trip to a nearby spot to listen for birds, though I'm still a bit energy-depleted.

 

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell

Nothing ...

"We must say nothing, when we have nothing to say."

― Mokokoma Mokhonoana 

When even the flies ...

Back to The River!

"Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will sense them."

— Annie Dillard

Alas, no bird or wildlife photos (again) — my inspiration for that runs thin in the frigid cold — but it doesn't stop bundled-up shoreline hikes along the Wisconsin River. While doing so, I like to think about all the critters tucked beneath the snow and ice. Tiger beetle season isn't far off now, and I'm already wondering which will break the surface first: Bronzed, Oblique-lined, or Festive?

Tiger beetles turn a stretch of sand into a story of survival. They're small, fast, and easy to overlook, but once you start watching them, you begin reading the ground itself — microhabitats, season, moisture, plant edges, and the quiet signs of life eking out an existence at the margins. Photographing them isn't just about the beetles; it's about learning the landscape through the smallest, sharpest lives moving across it. Even in their absence, I find something to appreciate in how they endure our brutal winter months.

Maybe not headline material, but ice formations still make for quiet, compelling photographic subjects.

Endless forms ...

On birds ...

Common Mergansers (FOY) and Common Goldeneye worked the river current, while a lone Bald Eagle passed overhead. Along a gravel road near the parking area, I turned up a few Horned Larks and Lapland Longspurs, with Dark-eyed Juncos, Northern Cardinals, and American Tree Sparrows as well. Complaining calls of Canada Geese felt aimed at the cold itself — though I know that's my own anthropomorphism creeping in.

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell

Blech!

 

Aurora!

When the going gets tough, the tough buy new guitars — clearly the most practical coping strategy!

It's been a while since I last succumbed to GAS (Guitar Acquisition Syndrome), but I couldn't pass up this limited edition Fender Stratocaster — an Ultra II HSS (humbucker, single coil, single coil) with an S-1 switch and an "Ultra Blaster" preamp toggle. The finish, called Aurora, doesn't quite translate in photos; in person, its iridescence really does shimmer the color of the northern lights, and even brings to mind blue-colored Festive tiger beetles I've seen at Spring Green. After playing it a few times at my local Guitar Center, the rep I work with there offered me a great deal — and I've been playing it almost every night since I brought it home.

Here are some close-ups ...

The pickguard controls ...

Gorgeous grain on the roasted maple neck and headstock ...

I'll likely never gig again (I did in the early 90s), but I mostly play and practice along with jam tracks on YouTube. I still do online lessons from TrueFire, which I can wholeheartedly recommend. It doesn't matter what your skill level is — they have something for everyone.

Just about every TrueFire instructor offers multi-lesson paths that walk you through concepts step by step, gradually increasing the difficulty and letting you progress at your own pace. Animated guitar tab and sheet music goes along with multiple angles of the instructor's lesson.

In other Fender stuff, here's Paul Davids giving a historical retelling of how the Stratocaster became the most iconic electric guitar of all-time. Paul is an incredible guitarist, educator, and YouTube personality known for his clean playing, thoughtful songwriting, and clear, well-structured guitar lessons. I've thought about buying his online lessons as well, but we'll see. 

That's some collection. Did you know there's a super-impressive Stratocaster collection right here in Wisconsin? Dave Rogers of Dave's Guitar Shop has an astounding array of Strats, Telecasters, Jazzmasters, and more — it's worth millions. 

Also, Fender recently got a new CEO.

 

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell

That won't work again.

Europe already learned, the hard way, what happens when you try to placate an authoritarian with concessions instead of standing on principle. The memory of Chamberlain and the disaster of appeasement isn't some dusty history lesson there — it's baked into their politics and institutions. So the idea that Europe would let itself be economically strong-armed into treating territory or self-determination as a bargaining chip underestimates both their history and their resolve. They may absorb pain, they may retaliate, they may negotiate — but they're unlikely to get suckered into repeating a mistake that once cost the continent everything.

But I guess we'll see!

Addendum:

"All we're asking for is to get Greenland, including right title and ownership, because you need the ownership to defend it — you can't defend it on a lease."

Well, sure you can. We helped defend Europe through two world wars without owning it — security comes from alliances and treaties, not from claiming sovereignty over the land itself. It's a fallacious argument, bereft of intellectual credibility.

Addendum II:

Wow — what a bigly 'nothingburger' that was, but it certainly was another TACO.

Something to do ...

"Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand ― and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it is too late."

― Marie Beynon Lyons Ray 

I didn't leave home yesterday, and I may not today either—it's turned cold again. As the snow fell in big, slow flakes, I found myself thinking about setting up the macro gear to try and photograph them. There are ways to isolate them—by pre-chilling a dark surface like black foam, velvet, or glass so the flakes don't melt as they land, then using diffused macro lighting to reveal their structure—but these were simply photographed where they had fallen, on my patio table and the rims of my plant pots.

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell