I am now thoroughly convinced that there's a deep-seated primitive basis for our fear of snakes. And when I say "our" fear, I exclude myself, because as many of you know, I've been a bit of a "herp freak" for most of my life, but unexpectedly walking up on this diamondback rattlesnake put a chill up my back that felt like electricity shooting into the base of my skull. It's amazing how quickly the sound and sight of a noisy rattler sends a message to your brain that says, "DANGER!!!"

Before leaving home, I was asked by an east coast friend of mine who (like me) lives on the beach but isn't keen on getting up early enough to watch the sunrise if I would snap a shot of a west coast sunset. While I was prepping dinner on Christmas Eve, this is what I was watching through the window. I should have popped down to the beach to capture the classic red ball sinking into the horizon, but it seemed to cliche. Okay, in truth I was just too busy to leave the kitchen...

I just spent three weeks in Orange County, California which was not what I had in mind when I left home back in November. When traveling cross-country with a team of two trained hawks and two hunting dogs, southern California isn't exactly the Holy Grail of destinations. But in addition to finding unexpected opportunities for my hawks, I found family members that were generous, warm and welcoming. The kind of folks that renew my faith in love and kindness. I can't think of a better way to have spent Christmas.

Astrology tells me that I'm a "fire sign" which makes a lot of sense to me, but being a rock climber and visiting the Grand Canyon went a long way toward convincing me that "earth" is the element for me. And let's face it,... those of you who know me and have seen me surf or swim will tell you that the water is NOT where I'm most comfortable.

The Grand Canyon humbled me to the point of speechlessness. In fact, it didn't just quiet my mouth, it brought silence to my mind. This was the first view I had of it, after walking up to the south rim. I did (and thought) nothing for minutes on end, as I stood there in the wind... looking.

The desert sun melts into ebony plumes of raven.

He sits alone. Watching. Waiting.

Wherever I go I keep an eye to the sky. Always looking for resident raptors as I travel. In the last few weeks, I've been lucky enough to spot several Golden Eagles. My closeset encounter was with an adult female that I found feeding on the remains of a dead elk in some spruce woods near the south rim of the Grand Canyon. I joined a raven that was watching her as she pulled meat from between the ribs.

I spent yesterday afternoon walking along the Pacific Coast Highway in Laguna Beach, and looking through some of the many art galleries that exist there. I was so inspired, that on my way out of town, I went directly to an art supply store and snapped up some new materials to add to the paltry "arts and crafts" box that I've been toting around with me this winter. Now let's see how much I actually produce.

Two years ago I was wintering in New Zealand, and it really was the "trip of a lifetime." I'm glad I went, but often wish that I hadn't, because there's a certain pain that comes with knowing that New Zealand is there.... and I'm not. If there exists another place with such beauty and magic, please tell me where it is.

Although I suspect everyone out there would find this little Saw-whet owl to be completely engaging, I've put him here primarily for the viewing pleasure of two fellow artists who share my interest in birds of prey.

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I recently picked up a new hunting dog from a breeder. He's a young English Setter from field trial lines, and has a huge amount of drive and much more energy than I'd bargained for.

So far, the thing I like best about him is that he has completely renewed my appreciation and love for my trusty old Sadie girl, seen here pointing a woodcock for Randy. You just can't beat a well-trained, mature dog that knows its job.

I like to think of the Maine winter as a big snarling wolf that keeps everyone away. The coast of Maine is such a picturesque place that we would probably be as overpopulated as San Diego if it weren't for the nasty winter weather.

Heck, I DO live in Maine, and it keeps me away!

But maybe a claw-snapping lobster would be a more apt representation.

Before leaving Maine for the winter, I embarked on a mini-trek to Mid-coast Maine, where I stayed at a fantastic B+B called the Newcastle Inn, located above a tidal river only a short walk from the quaint downtown area of Damariscotta.

Visiting nearby Pemaquid Point Lighthouse on a cold rainy day found me feeling like I'd stepped into the heart of what northern New England is really about.

Treat yourself to a stay at the Newcastle Inn and say hello to Julie, the Innkeeper, for me.