Do you ever putter?

Not hurry. Not work your way down a list. Just wander gently through whatever catches your attention and enjoy where it takes you.

This week on Open the Door, I’m puttering through old letters, neighborhood memories, the shores of a lake—and five white-tailed deer who reminded me that not every beautiful moment needs to become a photograph.

Puttering — the joy of taking your time.

Listen or read Sunday morning:

docellen.substack.com/p/puttering

Sad Cake — lesson in imperfection

What makes a cake sad? My great-grandmother Granny knew. And Papa Big Jim knew something about sad cakes that has stayed with me for nearly 70 years.

Come through the open door with me Sunday morning.

🎧 New Open the Door audio story
https://docellen.substack.com/p/sad-cake

I was sitting quietly at the boat ramp, as I often do, when I sneezed.

Not a great big sneeze. Just one of those quick, sharp little sneezes.

I had no idea there was a Great Blue Heron on the far side of this pine tree.

Apparently, he had no idea I was there, either.

ACHOO.

And suddenly, there he was.

The door is open for my Labor Day Sale!

I’ve brought together some very different corners of my photography — a bald eagle launching into flight, a rather bemused osprey with dinner, a historic South Carolina farmhouse door, and sunlight spilling across a winding country road.

Fine art prints are 25% off.

Come wander through and see what catches your eye.

https://docellenimages.etsy.com

Nature’s door is always open. Come right on in.

What might be hiding in your pockets?

Mine have held everything from pennies and safety pins to treasures with stories attached.

Come through the Open Door this Sunday for Checking My Pockets.

A pocket can hold a lot of stories.

docellen.substack.com/p/checking-my-pockets

What does an osprey think about while she is eating lunch?

I watched this female osprey with a freshly caught fish, and somewhere in the middle of her meal, she seemed to have something else on her mind.

Photo 1: There is no question about what she is doing. Fish firmly held in those extraordinary talons, head down, she is eating.

Photo 2: And then she stops. The fish is still right there beneath her feet, but for the moment she isn’t interested in eating it. Something has caught her attention.

Photo 3: Now she looks up into the pines. And this is the photograph that makes me wonder. What is she thinking about? Of course, I have absolutely no idea. But looking at her standing there over her half-eaten fish, I couldn’t help wondering whether somewhere in that osprey brain there might be the faintest thought: Fish. Again.

Photo 4: And eventually her attention returns to the matter at hand. Fish. Again.

For an osprey, that isn’t merely a preference. Ospreys are extraordinarily specialized fish-eaters. Their bodies, their feet, their flight and their hunting behavior are beautifully adapted to catching fish.

In the wild, that specialization is magnificent to watch. An osprey can plunge into the water, seize a living fish and carry it away in those remarkable feet.

But that specialization has another side.

When an injured osprey comes into rehabilitation and can no longer catch its own meals, feeding that bird becomes much more complicated. You are caring for an animal whose natural diet is overwhelmingly fish — the fresh catch that it was designed to hunt for itself.

Watching this healthy female standing in the pine with her catch, I found myself thinking about both sides of that specialization: how perfectly equipped she is for the life she lives, and how challenging it becomes when, for some reason, she temporarily cannot live it.

But I doubt she was contemplating any of that.

She had a fish to finish.