Oh, the things youâll see.Â
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Oh, the things youâll see.Â

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Vernal Pool. Â South Dartmouth, MA.
Had fun adventuring with these two yesterday, even though @stumpylento thinks it's funny to push people into the woods #mcm #dnrt (at Cornell Farm Reserve)
First race of the season of the Mazda MaX5 Cup during the DNRT Easter Races @ Circuit Park Zandvoort.
In âThe Final 4Ⲡ(the last 4-hour race of the winterchampionship 2015-2016) the Renault-trio Verschuur/Van Loon/Kolen grabbed victory with their RS1. But it was Sebastiaan Bleekemolen (Renault Clio) who flew to the championship!

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The Flood (DNRT)
I had this dream a week ago, after coming back from school and moving most of my items back into my old room. It was located at this combination of my old highschoolâs gym+auditorium. People were gathered in this massive structure for some assembly Iâm sure when all you can hear outside is thunder and loud banging. As I look around to check if anyone else has heard it no one else seems to realize its happening so I ignore it aswell. Right up until the doors of the place cave in from water attempting to fill up the entire place. Everyone is up, screaming and in a frenzy to try and get away stampeding over me, pushing me closer to the water when I just allow it to happen. It sweeps me up in its current and I am somehow outside of the building. I swim up to the surface of this massive rushing river eye-level to the roofs of submerged houses, the occasional floating car passes by and I realize Iâm 30ft high over my tiny little neighborhood. As Iâm afloat and keeping steady I suddenly stretch my arm forward, accidentally feeling the prickly little head of a young boy. I retract quickly, scared and uncertain if heâs alive or not but I hear screaming from up ahead. A woman is trapped on her roof crying out for her son. I quickly reach my arm forward again and find his limp arm and pull him out of the water. This tan little boy sputters and vomits a hefty amount of water and I hold on to him and kept telling him âHey youâre gonna be fine, Listen, youâre alright. Can you hear me?â The water surges me forward towards the roof of the woman and I hand her her son. The eyes of a motherâs loss of their child vs the return of their child are a set of eyes Iâm all too familiar with. Needless to say I woke up with the last words uttered in my dream being the womanâs âthank youâ ringing in my ears.
Finished and Sold
A week ago I finished painting the whimbrel decoy for the auction at the Dartmouth Natural Resources Trust Barn Dance last Saturday. I let the paint dry overnight and then rubbed it with a burlap sack to soften the paint edges. I stained the dowel a greenish-gray, roughly the color of a whimbrel's legs, and found a fine old piece of driftwood for the base.Â
The last step, after this shot was taken, was a very thin wash of raw umber and turpentine slathered over the whole bird, then rubbed off with a rag. That final step has the effect of further softening the paint edges and giving the bird a little patina--a matte finish with the appearance of a bit of age.
By the time we got to the dance, the silent auction had begun and the bird had reached $150--my recommended price. (To get the action going, most items had suggested opening bids at about half the item's value. I'd pegged the decoy at $150: the minimum opening bid was $75.)
We left early, but I'm happy to report that the last bid I saw for the bird was $300, twice what I'd hoped it would fetch for the Trust. I'm delighted that it did so well, money for a good cause. I hope the new owners get as much pleasure out of having it as I did making it. I'll certainly carve another bird of some kind again next year.
Work in Progress--A Whimbrel for a Good Cause
 The Buzzard's Bay watermen who went gunning for shorebirds until 1918, when the Federal Migratory Waterfowl Act was passed, didn't see many curlew around here. They distinguished between the Eskimo Curlew and it's larger cousin, the Hudsonian Curlew, now called a Whimbrel.
The Eskimo Curlew, favored by Nantucket and Martha's Vineyard hunters, was called the bread bird. Flocks kept circling back to decoys even as gunners harvested succeeding flights. It was as reliable a food and income source as bread. And as a result, the Eskimo Curlew is all but extinct.
His warier relative, the Whimbrel, was scarcer here, and not as aggressively hunted. As a result, New England Whimbrel decoys are less common. But now is the time of year when Whimbrel pass through these parts on their way south, so it seemed fitting to carve a Whimbrel for an auction to benefit the Dartmouth Natural Resources Trust.
The DNRT does the hard and valuable work of acquiring and preserving unique and naturally important land along this coast, then protecting it and interpreting and sharing it for the benefit of all. We live close by one of the DNRT's reserves, a stretch of woods and farmland along the river. Walks on those trails in every season and in every light are a reminder of the natural beauty we prize hereabouts. So gratitude alone would seem to argue for giving something back beyond our annual dues.
I'll paint the bird with oil paints, just as earlier hunter-carvers did with the working predecessors of this block. I use Eastern White Cedar from a swamp near here for the head and body. The bill is hard and durable hickory, mortised into the head. Glass eyes will give it some life, and a driftwood base, gathered from a local beach, will complete the project. Stay tuned for updates as the painting progresses.
The DNRT Barn Bash and Auction is on Saturday, August, 23rd. Come and bid on a Whimbrel--and keep some countryside out of the hands of developers.