I have a huge soft spot for owls and old wood but these photos carry some bittersweet baggage. I’ve told parts of this story before but this time I’ll be telling it from a different perspective. First, a review of the basics. If you already know them feel free to skip ahead.
I grew up with my first cousin Ken Dudley on our adjoining Montana farms. As adults, after I moved away but returned often, we became even closer – he was truly like the brother I never had. In 2006 when Ken was in his mid-50’s he was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given only a short time to live. At that point I had a decision to make. Due to circumstances beyond my control (mostly job-related) I could go to Montana to visit with him before he died or attend his funeral but not both.
Ken and I mutually decided that we’d prefer to spend time together while he was alive so in December of 2006 I flew to Montana and spent most of a week visiting with him in the hospital. He died on January 30, 2007, about a month after I returned home. I did not attend his funeral.
Several months after he died I unexpectedly received a monetary gift from Ken that allowed me to finally purchase my ideal bird lens. Ken knew I lusted after that lens, in part because he knew how frustrated I was trying to get quality photos of the resident Great Horned Owls on the farm that we both loved so much. He never told me as much but I’m sure it was his intention that I use part of his gift to purchase the lens.
Ken was cremated and wanted his ashes spread over the farm he loved so much so family decided to have a celebration of his life in mid-August of 2007 with his family and closest friends attending. I was a teacher and had that summer off so there was no way I was going to miss the celebration.
On the morning of Ken’s life celebration I reconnoitered the old farm granaries looking for owls. ‘Ken’s lens’ was heavy to carry and photographing owls wasn’t the primary purpose of my visit to the farm so while I was exploring the granaries that morning all I had with me was my much smaller and lighter zoom lens when I found this owl in one of the granary cutouts. I believe this owl is the female of the mated pair that had been resident on the farm for years.
I was delighted to find her but even though I was quite close to her the photos I got that morning with my smaller lens just weren’t quite up to snuff.
That afternoon and evening we had Ken’s life celebration with about 25 of his family and closest friends attending. Here a small group of them, including Ken’s dog Havoc, are waiting for the plane (piloted by a family friend) carrying Ken’s ashes to pass over the farm from the west. The rest of the attendees are with me as I took the photograph higher on the hill behind me.
I was disappointed that it was a hazy (smoky?) day. Normally in this view we could clearly see the mountains of Glacier National Park, including iconic Chief Mountain, in the background. But the farthest we can see in this photo is Horse Thief Mesa on the upper horizon.
Finally the plane appeared from out of the haze.
Here we can see the arm of Ken’s sister Teri hanging out of the plane’s window as she releases Ken’s ashes over the farm. We celebrated that evening with drinks, good food and good friends as we reminisced about Ken’s incredible life.
The next day, the day before I left to drive home to Utah, you know I had to look for owls again and this time I’d be using my new lens.
I found only one – this time I believe it was the resident male. The almost omnipresent Montana wind was blowing and he was much more shy than the female so I probably spent 15 minutes ‘sneaking’ up on him using every stalking skill I possessed. It was obvious that he was about to fly off or scamper back into the pitch blackness of the granary but in the end he actually stuck so I was finally able to…
maneuver myself into a position where I could see more of him. These are my first owl photos taken with ‘Ken’s lens’.
But it was a bittersweet experience because something seemed wrong, somehow off a little. Here I was, on Ken’s farm with Ken’s owls and using the lens that he’d provided for me but there was no Ken. In the past Ken had always been there – always. I had never thanked him for his gift and I never could, at least not personally,
R.I.P. Ken Dudley. And thank you.
Ron
I’ve been a follower of Feathered Photography long enough to be familiar with this story. You bring a new perspective to it each time, though. I can’t think but that Ken would be proud of what you’ve done with your photography and “his” lens.
Lately, I’ve been listening a lot to an old song by Mary McCaslin, “Old Friends”. The refrain seems fitting:
Remember old friends we’ve made along the way
The gifts they’ve given stay with us every day”.
Lyle, those lines from the song are perfect for my situation with Ken.
As others have said, your stories of your relationship with Ken never get old. And if you posted pictures of these owls once a week that would also never get old😊
Much appreciated, Diana.
What a lovely story-thanks so much for sharing, and I have no doubt that Ken is with you on every shot. Love your site.
Thank you, Judy.
I could read your stories about Ken, the farm, and the owls again and again. I always pick up something new. Today, this student got to reacquaint herself with thrust faults and learn about klippes thanks to one of her very favorite teachers. 😍
Marty, I learn much of my geology from a good friend who writes a blog covering a lot of subjects but it’s heavy on geological processes.
And I believe he talks about Idaho and Alaska too. 😉
Yup, he sure does. And birds. And concert reviews. And politics. And a lot of other stuff. His blog is much more eclectic than mine which is one of the things I like about it.
Bittersweet indeed – but the sweetness dominates. What a wonderful story and yes I too am a little sweaty around the eyes this morning. Again.
Thank you, EC.
Wonderful shots nd story Ron, thanks for sharing.
Charlotte Norton
Thank you, Charlotte.
I love this story so much. It’s worth telling and retelling forever.
Well, I believe I’ve told at least part of it three times now, Kathleen. I think that’s enough for a good long while.
Damn it, Ron. It’s not nice to get me crying before breakfast.
🙂 Sorry about that, Nancy!
Family are the people you choose. How wonderful you and Ken related to each other as brothers. That is a relationship to cherish forever. Thank you for keeping Ken’s lovely memory alive for us Ron 🙂
And the lens gift – oh my what you have done with that!!!! Cheers to you and Ken!!
“And the lens gift – oh my what you have done with that”
Thanks, Kathleen. It would have been close to tragic if I hadn’t used it to at least close to its potential.
Hi Ron, I (re)love this story. I’ve heard it before, and you got me. Again.
I will be thinking about you, Ken and my recently departed best friend all day today. And for many tomorrows. Bittersweet memories, indeed. I’m focusing on the sweet…
Cheers,
Dick
“I’m focusing on the sweet”
Usually I do too, Dick. But looking at these photos reminds me that the coin is two-sided. Thanks very much.
Always a wonderful story, Ken found the perfect way for his legacy to live on.
You’re right, April – he did.
I totally agree with what Porcupine said.
Take Care,
Kaye
Thank you, Kaye.
I love your photography. Your pictures are artistically and technically impressive. But. In my opinion it is your writing and story telling that set this blog apart from all the others in my bookmarks and keep me coming back to check in on Feathered Photography every morning.
Your comment means a lot to me, Porcupine. During my 33 years in the classroom I tried hard to tell stories well because well-told stories reinforce lessons in student’s minds in a way they’ll remember them. So I’ve had lots of practice… 🙂
Thank you for sharing this wonderful story, Ron. I love GHOWs, too, and can only imagine that Ken would be very happy to know that his gift has helped you bring these owls and many other birds to so many people.
Cathy, I’m almost positive he’d be happy with me buying the lens with part of his gift. I’m pretty sure that was his intention but I’ll never know.
Bittersweet indeed! There were/are still wonderful memories of the farm/owls and, most of all, Ken all of which have enriched your life in the years since. Thx for sharing “the rest of the story”.
Thank you, Judy.
How often do you get to go back Ron ?
Gary, mostly because of my bad back I haven’t been back to the farm for three years. Before that I went back every summer, sometimes even two or three times. Ken’s brother Jim and his wife live on the farm now and we’re very close too so I like to go back and visit them, the farm and of course the owls.
A bittersweet moment for sure, but a beautiful memory that will live with all of you. Love those last two shots of the GHO.
I had a momentary chill just thinking of the cold Montana winter winds whipping across those vast snow covered fields.
Everett, when you’re living through one of those MT winters the chill is far from momentary!
A wonderful, human (and owl) story. Ken didn’t need thanking. But I’m sure you know that. You were blessed, I think, to have such a powerful connection with your cousin. I have had two such in my life. Not many for 84 years. But precious beyond rubies.
Well said, Sallie. Yes, such close friends, related to us or not, are very, very special.