RECYCLING

I’m an avid recycler and I tend to think of it as a human activity. But, hey, this smart bird proved me wrong.  Pretty clever. In years past when I was regularly quilting, I threw a handful of thread ends into my compost, and from there, birds decorated their nests with little blue and orange and red splotches of color among their nesting material. I guess we could call that a “decorator” nest.

I copped the picture from the internet and it had no accreditation for the photo.

I have some favorite pictures I’ve taken over the years and this bird is one of them.   Click on it to enlarge it. I saw it on the side of the road in Palm Springs, California and stepped out, and quickly shot it and was stunned when I saw the results. I keep telling myself I’m going to have it developed and put on cards. But, first I have to find out what kind of bird it is. I think it is a dove or pigeon and I don’t know the difference between a dove and a pigeon.  One of these days I’ll take the time to look it up.

I’m still buried in paperwork, and revamping my office since getting my photo books, genealogy and other documents back since the fire.

 

ANTALYA, CITY BY THE SEA

We unloaded from our bus in Antalya and had to walk to our hotel because the Old Town streets are not big enough for a bus. The Main St. can accommodate  a taxi or van, which is how they got our luggage in.

The streets in Old Town are cobblestone and vendors take up part of the thoroughfare. A taxi can slip by.

Up the narrow side streets, it is a different story. Usla is wise to know we appreciate the quaintness of Old Town.

Our hotel is the Dogon.

Our room is a corner room and out one window we can see the beautiful courtyard where we will have our breakfasts and hotel dinners.

Out the other window is a dilapidated building for sale. We saw squatters with a child living there, or perhaps staying there temporarily.

Also making a home in the building, a pair of doves.

In Old Town, gypsy vendors sold merchandise from colorful carts.

Notice the huge God’s eye. I so regret not getting pictures of shops with huge collections of God’s eyes, of every conceivable decoration and size.

This vendor has a stand with his scarves and trinkets.

I didn’t mark the name of this main thoroughfare, but it is lined with old roman sculptures in modern poses. This one is holding his garment up to an ATM machine to catch the money when it falls out.

The street sweeper.

This fellow is using his cell phone. Usla calls them “the government’s sense of humor.”

A sign with the price of drinks in a bar. At one of our pit stops, I bought a whole bottle of Raki for two Turkish lira.

You see very little restrictive clothing in a modern city like Antalya. Usla identified this gown and turban wearing gent as a Syrian refuge. It is against the law to wear the Burka in Turkey. The government outlawed this form of restrictive religious dress in 1934 as Turkey became aware of its changing roll on the world stage. In fact, they gave women the right to vote in 1920.

This is a statue of a water tender who would fill his container with water and sell it on the street, providing a service so people didn’t have to go to the town well for a drink. The water tender is hooked up to a faucett, now.

We passed this street that reminded several of us of Fremont Street in Las Vegas.

Usla bought a bagel from a vendor for us to taste, but we had already had them at mini-marts and from street vendors. Unlike anything we know as a bagel, it is tender, delicious, covered in sesame seeds and addictive. Hmmm! Loved them.

We circled around and ended our walk and chat at the harbor. I swam in the pool in the afternoon while Owen and Usla, along with others took clothing to a laundry. The water was cold, but poolside was slippery marble and I decided it was a dangerous place to be wet. (Gina fell.)

We had happy hour both nights in a small courtyard near the rooms of Joyce, Judy, Gina, and Maria.

Since this was a dinner on your own, we found a nice nearby restaurant next to the water. We sat in an open air space looking down on a sandy beach. Usla said they charge 15 tl to use the beach. And, miracle of miracles, Owen ordered  calamari and a second entree of a fish casserole. Both were delicious.

The atmosphere at this hotel was so pleasant. We early birds are early to breakfast.

And packed for leaving the next day. I spotted this sign.

And this one just around the corner from the hotel that I somehow missed after passing it several times.

We had free time and crossed the main ave into town on what Usla described as “…where the locals shop, better prices.”  Joyce held up this button covered purse for me. (I have a button collection.)

Such pleasant weather; flowers everywhere.

gyros is what we eat in the U.S. when we eat Greek. Well, that is, one of the things, depending on where you live.

I was delighted to run into this yarn covered tree, for two reasons. Jim’s mother was the type of person who knitted and crocheted steadily. Her niece told me if anything was left uncovered, she’d soon crochet or knit it a cove. And, I have pictures of a yarn covered elephant, a bus, a taxi and a picture of this tree. I had no idea the tree was growing on the streets of Antalya, Turkey. And, now I know what a God’s eye is.

Tourists line up to ride these horse pulled, decorated buckboard.

I’m sure there is more to see in this town of interest to tourists. But our time was enjoyable and tomorrow, we will leave the hotel, bags packed, and bus to one of the best museums in Turkey, according to Usla. The museum is about 2 miles from our hotel.

 

 

 

 

BIRDS CAN BE FRIENDS

My friend, Pat Whitfield, is a bird lover. She is dedicated to her “friends” and has a whole room full of them. They are free to fly around the house during part of the day, (those that like to). Cockatoo George, is on her shoulder and a dove sits on her hand.

These lovebirds nestle in shredded paper, protecting their egg. You can barely detect the egg because it is small and white against the white paper. Pat is no longer breeding birds to sell. She just enjoys her friends.

She only has two large cages, now. They are friendly and cheerful and provide much joy to her life. It takes a lot of dedication to nourish and feed and care for these birds.

Along with the birds, Pat collects bird houses. There are so many I couldn’t begin to count them. The one above is so appealing to her birds, they continually peck at the wood and widen the hole. Others they leave alone.

When she walks down the street, George sits on her shoulder and doesn’t make any attempt to escape. He obviously loves her. It seems as though everyone likes birds, but the birds have an affinity for Pat. When we visited Moaning Cave last September, the parrot in the cage fell in love with Pat and spoke to her, words the owners didn’t know the bird could speak. It allowed her to pet it and didn’t want her to leave. This huge parrot could have snapped her finger in two.
A wild dove in  my yard allowed her to approach it so closely, she could almost touch it. They sense the bird lover and act differently around her than around others.

Bird houses and feeders around her yard become nesting boxes, like this feeder above.

And this one. Both are quite low to the ground. They seem to trust that nothing will happen to them. Did I mention there is a cat in this house as well?

This bird house was my favorite, but so far, the birds don’t choose it. They know what’s best and Pat is on their approval list.