Eclipse Frenzy

Black-capped Chickadee collecting cattail fluff

Or lack thereof.

My only concern about this massively-hyped event is whether the children in my life, both mature and otherwise, have sense enough not to look at it.

Otherwise, meh. I've seen eclipses before. They fall under the heading of kinda cool but not this cool. 

I guess I will do a bird list or two while it is going on, just to say that I did...

Speaking of birds. Suddenly things are happening. After what feels like weeks of constant north or northwest winds, I could smell the woodstove yesterday. Yeah, a little breeze from the South. We scored four new species for the year in-county yesterday, a Pied-billed Grebe, a Red-shouldered Hawk, some Swamp Sparrows, and the first twittering flutter of Tree Swallows during our travels. I think we found some new ones out of county too, but I don't keep very close track there.

This morning at 530 one or more American Woodcocks were going crazy dancing over the backyard, while the sky turned crystal and orange against the dark blue of almost-dawn. Then the robins, cardinals and assorted sparrows tuned up and drowned them out. It was beautiful but frigid.

I am hoping to see some more goodies today, as the maps are starting to light up a bit.

Oh, and American Robins appear to be building a nest on the pillar on the sitting porch. Yay, just as it gets warm enough to actually go out there, they will start clutching their pearls and gasping in horror every time I go out the door.

Anyhow, keep your eyes OFF the prize today, and have a great day.

Happy Birthday

 

To my favorite son......Happy Birthday, Alan!

Just Plain Nice

On the way home from a particularly stressful morning...if you know, you know...we stopped to get the mail in town.

Included was a small, utterly unexpected, out-of-the-clear-blue-sky envelope. It contained a package of Lion's Ear seeds and a lovely note, from someone who reads Northview, remembered my struggles last summer to get the gangly plant I purchased going, and wanted me to have a better go this summer.

I was beyond delighted. It has been a challenging couple of months, and not getting easier anytime soon, and to have this wonderful surprise gift from a stranger meant a lot. She had to take quite a lot of effort to track down the address and get the seeds to me and I am much grateful.

So, thanks Susan, I will be planting them inside as soon as I can. 

I did get last summer's version going eventually and it was a real conversation piece. It reached the top of my little arbor and peeked merrily in the kitchen window at me whenever I was at the sink. (Is there anything better than a window over the kitchen sink? I don't think so.}

The hummingbirds were wild for it late in the summer and early in fall when so many other plants were past their best.

I look forward to having this unusual and fun plant again this year!

Cranes

 

Thick muscular wings. Tall, gawky bodies, awkward, gangly, long, stilty legs, with fluffy brown and silver bodies like unshorn lambs. Look like loaves of bread sunning on the levee in the late afternoon.

Delicate and graceful as leaves whirling in an eddy, they dance, skip, and float on the air, leaping over one another in an unworldly ballet, wonder on the water, out there in the pool.

My dear friend Kris took me on an outing to Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge and Cayuga Lake State Park yesterday. We were both up long before o'dark thirty and left my house just before five. We were at the visitor's pool just before seven-thirty.

Northern Pintail drake

The Sandhill Cranes were there as had been reported recently on various Facebook pages and eBird. They danced and sang for us, their songs as uncanny and prehistoric as any Hollywood movie track, only as real and the pools they played in. We stayed as long as they did, then headed out to tour the refuge for the entire day, other than a short side trip to Cayuga Lake in search of the near mythical Red-headed Woodpeckers we had been reading about.

The latter were common during my college days way back in the first years of the 1970s. When I used to sneak out of class to ride the dirt roads south of Fonda, or rode a then-young Magnum on those same dirt roads, I saw them everywhere.

I love the size contrast between these Trumpeter Swans
and the ducks around them. Big birds!

Until yesterday I hadn't seen one since then. However we spoke to a nice gentleman at May's Point Pool, who instructed us right to the exact tree where to find them. As soon as we reached the appointed spot we saw one flitting away and joined an ever changing-group of birders watching a single male plying the trees for luncheon.

 I was astonished how hard it was to see him, what with his bright, flashy, colors and all. I can spot a tiny Downy at considerable distance, but I had to look hard to find this delightful bird.

The whole day was spectacular. Nice weather, decent light, with short periods of the throat catching kind that turns an ordinary landscape into a scene from a Hopper painting, and lots and lots of wonderful birds I only see at the refuge. 

Huge thanks to Kris for being kind enough to include me in her visits to this magical spot and for sharing my enthusiasm for birds, both rare and ordinary. Sure had a great time!

Here is a link to a recording I made of the cranes at the visitor's pool.

Practicing for Jet Lag

 

Because you know it's going to get us all after the time distortion that will come on Sunday. I set the bedroom clock an hour ahead earlier this week, to start getting ready for the misery that is the official Time Change.

So...I got up at ten after four to walk Jill who was way off color yesterday. Happy to report she seems significantly improved this morning.

Since I was up I went owling.

In the backyard.

In my bathrobe and crocs (hey, don't be all judgey now).

A thick frost fell last night, not enough to freeze the water trickling off the hill after all the rain the last couple of days, but the mud was hard enough that I could walk part way to the old cow barn.

There were no owls today....just one lonesome White-throated Sparrow, giving off one sleepy cheep from somewhere under the mulberry trees.

However, as I stared up at the early stars, sparkling even in the light-polluted sky here so near to town, I saw a thin shroud of icy fog slowly folding them into its dim embrace. It felt as i I was watching something private and secret, even with the din of trains and the Thruway just to the north.

I came back in to warmth and coffee, welcome after half an hour in the frigid air. 

No owls in here either.