42

At Peck's last summer
Can you tell I am getting antsy?

Alan and I have been keeping a loose list of the birds we have seen here at the farm this summer. I don't bore you with a list of names but we are up to 42 species at this point. They are mostly common, with the most exotic being the willow flycatcher, a bird that is hard enough to distinguish from the alder that even experts tell them apart by their call. Ours has been thoughtful enough to call all day, all spring and half the summer, allowing us to spend hours on What Bird listening to recorded calls. His call is a perfect match.

To add to our enjoyment of this drab little critter, it has taken to coming right on to the sitting porch several times a day picking at yarn from a trellis. Must be thinking about nesting again, although it isn't calling much. I am trying for a photo but between the wren rushing in to drive it away and its level of personal wildness that may not happen.

The end of the dawn chorus has been like the turning off of a switch. After weeks of having the delight of waking to cardinals, mockers, robins and what all, there is nothing calling now but a couple of starlings. And the wren. Which never shuts up. This lack is probably partly due to the season.

And partly due to the sharp shinned hawk. He was first spotted taking out an English sparrow, to which he was quite welcome. Then the other evening, just after an especially torrential rain, Alan and I were on our way out to milk when we heard a commotion from the mulberry by the compost bin.

Underneath the canopy, on the lowest branches, was the wettest, most bedraggled hawk I have ever seen. Each feather stood up in a ruffled peak like Harry Potter's hair.

It was clutching something and trying unsuccessfully to fly away from us and from the dozens of small birds that use the tree as an all day, all-you-can-eat cafeteria. They were (not unreasonably) quite discommoded by its presence.

Finally it made it to wing, showering water droplets behind as it lumbered away. It was lugging quite a large frog in its talons and we had a nice chuckle at its antics. I suspect it is a young one to which flying is a relative novelty.

Or else just a klutz. Either way I wish it would move along. I love taking a minute now and then to walk out on the porch to see who is flying back and forth across the long lawn, beaks crammed with berries. Or what the mockingbird is fighting with at any given time. It is getting too quiet.

For Mom

To be 57 years old, children grown, almost 40 years on my own, and yet to still be lucky enough to know a mother's love.
There can't be anything more special.

Thanks for the un-birthday cake Mom. Banana cake. You make the best ones...it's the only way I like bananas. You didn't have to do it, but it was so kind and caring that you did when you are so sick.

And it is so good.

We love you. Hope you feel a little better each day....
Love,
Dotter

Sunday Stills...Texture

For more Sunday Stills

More Chuck Jolley on NAIS

Here is the transcript of a Q&A session with Tom Vilsack....(except that it wasn't with Vilsack).
To me it looks like a lot more of the non-answers to important questions that USDA has been tossing around like rotten fruit....however, it would be good if you took a look to see for yourself if you have a chance. Mr. Jolley has provided his email address should you wish to convey to him your take on the session, which in turn may forwarded to the Secretary of Agriculture Food Stamps.

Wren on the Front Porch

Chitter, chitter, chittering. There is an English sparrow that loves to torment him by sitting right next to his second nest. I chase it away a dozen times a day just to shut him up. (I hate the darned things too.) I suppose I should get up now and show my scary face at the door but I am feeling too lazy and privileged just now. The thing which we are 99% positive is a willow flycatcher is coming right onto the other porch now to tug at some yarn on a trellis I grew moon flowers on the past few years (they froze in June last summer so I decided not to bother this year.) It is thrilling to see the little thing but it is too leery for me to get a photo.....yet....

Dog in the food bag. Guess he got tired of waiting. Becky, sleeping beauty herself, has taken to getting up before me, turning on my computer, taking the doggies out and making me a cup of perfect coffee, which is steaming gently, awaiting my arrival each morning. I feel as if I have somehow entered an alternate universe.......a very nice one. But I should go feed the dog before he eats the whole bag. He may be blind, deaf and tippy, but he knows how to take care of himself.


Sun up and shining, praise the Lord. The guys filled over forty feet of bag yesterday, more than they have been able to do for weeks. The girls and I milked all the cows so they could stay in the field. We sold one that was terribly mean and nasty this week and I sure didn't miss her when I had to milk my string alone last night. I wasn't thrilled with the price but after talking to folks who were at the sale, it looks like we got lucky and topped the sale with her and two heifers we sent over. I am grateful for that. The latest thing at the cattle auctions is to call a "no sale" and take the animal anyhow. Somebody sure as heck is doing all right at that!

Got the hot sheet from DHIA and our weighted SCC average was just over 100 thousand. Been having some challenges in that area so we were delighted. Nothing bad mind you....it is just that premiums are about the only aspect of our price we can do anything about and we pursue them mightily.

Liz is off to Countryfest today. She won a ticket from WGNA..... so...if any of you local folks are over there and you see her, please keep an eye....that is an awful brouhaha for a young girl to attend alone.

Get Down Babies

Another Good Dairy Article

Here is another article about the crisis in dairy pricing. I thought it was interesting partly because we know several of the folks in this story. We bought a real good bull from Mr. Hosking years ago and a number of nice cows at auctions run by Dave Rama.

The bull, Hosking-Brunn MWOD Arvid, was a son of the Melwood bull out of Homestead-SS Bell Alice, a Bell daughter. He made some of our finest ever cattle when crossed on daughters of a Ned Boy son we had out of a Triple Threat dam. They were not big cattle, but they were real sharp and hard and milked like they wanted to. We still have him in the tank and use him for clean up now and then.

Discussing Dairy Subsidies

On Coyote Blog there is a discussion taking place on dairy subsidies. I am not a big fan of subsidies, but few people have even a tiny understanding of the inner workings of the dairy industry. However, people can sure preach about things they have no clue about. When it comes to reading the thoughts of folks who say that farmers get a "really good subsidized price" for milk, I won't say that my blood boiled, but it did get a little warmish.

I left a comment myself...tried to not to sound too rabid or get too complicated. However, I know there are some real smart farmers and farm women who read Northview. I know some of you could do a better job of discussing our industry than I can...so I hope you click on over and add your thoughts to the dialog.

For the most part I like Coyote Blog, which is why I link to it and read it regularly. But I am just a tad irritated just now.

Knot Knotty Pine

But rather knotted honey locust.

Last year when I was weeding the asparagus that grows right next to the house (a volunteer) I discovered yet another of what seems like millions of honey locust seedlings. The other end of the tap root on every single one of them has a Hong Kong address. When I couldn't pull it out I tied a knot in it in frustration.

And forgot about it. The big asparagus plant doesn't get weeded all that often, but I finally got at it again the other day. Rather than the little baling wire sized stem of honey locust there was a big robust yearling as thick as my thumb and as tall as my head growing out of it. As I chopped it down with my loppers I found a surprise...the knot I tied and forgot last year. Who would expect that a tree would grow with a knot in the trunk?

So of course when I found another little seedling in the other flower bed, I chopped off its head and tied a knot in the stem.

Stormin'

We are having thunderstorms every day. Sometimes several. Beck and I went to the library and Stewart's yesterday and raced home because they were talking tornado warnings over in town. I didn't see any myself but it was hailing when we got home. It was weird to cross the river bridge. The sun was shining brilliantly on one side, although the clear blue water was white capped.




On the other side leaves and branches that had broken off were lashing across the road. The sky was thick with ominous grey clouds and hurtling rain. You could barely discern the difference between the surface of the river itself and the rain that was dashing into it.



Sunset was weird. Unrelieved textureless grey clouds with just a round yellow ball dripping through them down to the horizon. It was so unusual that we all ran to look at it, even our milk tester who was here testing last night. It spotlighted the flowers kind of nicely though.

Liz Needs Your Help

She has another calf that needs a good name. Suggestions welcome at BuckinJunction

Rana Day

Happy Birthday, Mappy!!

Patrick Hooker Meets Tom Vilsack

Press release from Ag and Markets
July 6, 2009

COMMISSIONER MEETS WITH USDA SECRETARY VILSACK

Emphasizes the Need for Assistance for Dairy Farmers at Concord, NH Meeting

New York State Agriculture Commissioner Patrick Hooker today met with the U.S. Secretary of Agriculture Tom Vilsack at a town hall meeting in Concord, New Hampshire, where he joined other Northeast agriculture commissioners, emphasizing the serious need for assistance for dairy farmers in New York State and across the nation.

At his first face-to-face meeting with the Obama administration official, the Commissioner thanked Secretary Vilsack for the leadership he has already provided the dairy industry and asked for more direct assistance, explaining the dire need for help on behalf of the State’s 6,200 dairy farmers.

Commissioner Hooker specifically requested Secretary Vilsack to support an immediate and retroactive increase to the Milk Income Loss Contract (MILC) safety net program, as well as a minimum six-month interest-free extension or debt forgiveness on USDA loans. Both of these actions would bring immediate relief to dairy farmers, as they experience the perfect storm of high input costs and protracted low milk prices.

A surprise announcement by Secretary Vilsack in New Hampshire today was his pledge to form an advisory group to recommend changes to the federal milk pricing system for fairness for farmers and to help promote profitability and stability in the dairy industry. This is a concept that Commissioner Hooker and his counterparts in Vermont and Pennsylvania, as part of the Northeast Dairy Leadership Team, suggested to the Secretary in a letter sent earlier this year.

Books

Are the perfect gift around this house....Thus my birthday was perfect due to quantities of books. I should have been too old to squeal with joy when opening a package, but I did at mom and dad's house. An owl book. A big pictorial bird book. A kitchen pharmacy book. Mrs. Rasmussen's Second Book of One Armed Cookery ( a veritable treasure and Mom's own copy, which will be doubly delightful), and last, but not least a book on cannons. How cool is that? Now if I can just get a real one for the front lawn......and that tank for repelling trespassers......

Along with the field guides and a novel for camp provided by Alan, not to mention chocolate and an Amp from Liz.....ah......I feel pampered. To make it all perfect we were treated to two sets of simultaneous fireworks, one at the race track and the other at some town up west and across the river. They were stupendous and we had the added benefit of the old dogs being so deaf they could barely hear them, so there was no panic and hiding in the bath tub this year.

Sunday Stills...Wild Flowers

For more Sunday Stills....

Climate Change Bill Bad for America

Typical New York Congressman at work

Seems a lot of people outside the beltway who pay for their own cars and groceries don't think this bill, for the most part unread by the people who are voting for it, is much of a birthday present to our great nation.

Here is a letter to the editor written by a local lady who has always "gotten it". Despite serious illness she recently took the time to instigate some back and forth dialog with the editor of the paper to get this piece printed. I admire her for it. We all should be talking to our newspapers and legislators right now. Even if we agree with this kind of expensive and unproven legislation, seems to me we should ask that it be read before the voting.....Of course I admire this particular lady for most everything, from her fantastic paintings to her spaghetti sauce...and you probably would too if you knew her, but she is so right about this issue.

Anyway this fine lady is comparing the new Climate Bill to the old Cardiff Giant. I'll bet there isn't a one of you local folks of a certain age that didn't get hauled to the Farmer's Museum in Cooperstown to have a look at that famous hoax. You can just figure that Cap and Tax is going to be a money maker of a similar style, but on a staggeringly grander scale. And it will be coming out of your pocket for every single item you buy.

I don't agree with the New York Times that even a seriously flawed climate bill is better than no bill at all....and neither does my wonderful mom. Hope you have a minute to read her letter....thanks....

And, by the way, I write this on a typical April day here at Northview....or maybe even late March. It is 63 degrees, the wind is howling and it has been raining overnight and is going to rain again. We have had such a non summer that the boss does not have a suntan. Can you imagine a farmer in July with no suntan? We still have calf coats on some of the babies. I have washed and put away the winter polar fleece jackets, sweaters, pull overs and hunting coats....in fact, I have washed them and put them at least five times.... by the time it gets summery enough to keep them in the drawer for a while it will be time to get them out again for winter. I am persistent in the wearing of shorts department, because wearing shorts is what I do in the summer...but some days it takes a lot more courage than it ought to...

Anyhow, have a great Fourth of July, each and every one of you. Fireworks tonight...don't forget to crate the doggies.

Friday Follies

The newspaper for which I write the Farm Side, is without phone service and has been since Tuesday. I can't imagine how hard coping with that must be for an entity that depends on communication to function.

It rained more yesterday. A lot more. Alan was sick all day, so we just let him sleep, although he did get up for chores. There wasn't really much you could do anyhow as hard as it was raining. Liz did fix stanchions and banged her finger pretty bad.....anyhow he seemed a lot better last night, so I guess the rest did him good. He has this stay up until two AM thing going on and it just isn't working out for him. We all learn at our own speed it seems.

Not sure what else to tell you. It is wet. A good day of warm air and stiff breezes would go a long way toward making it possible at least to get in the garden. It is going to take a while for the fields to dry out if they ever do this year. We are waiting on a roof guy for the barn and hoping it dries out enough so he can work so we can bail hay. If it ever dries out enough to do that.

The mockingbird has taken to singing all night. I like it. (Others are not so thrilled.) It is disconcerting though to hear a ring billed gull calling from the box elders by the lawn...he is real good at gull calls. The baby wrens have stayed around and they are still an endless source of cheap thrills. We have two front porches. They were hatched on one. Now they live in the cedar trees next to the other and take great delight in hopping up and down the steps, sometimes in sets of two or three. I have to tell you, it is hard to stifle laughter when you watch them bouncing up and down like kids on a play ground. Pop, pop, pop, up they hop. Reverse. Down, down, down. Then do it all again.
They also go in and out of the old nest the parents used last year and the year before. Don't know what is up with that but it is also entertaining as half a dozen of them try to squeeze into the old pillar. I will miss them when they finally leave us for good.

Above is another picture of the lake. (I am figuring you don't want to see pictures of rain any more than I want to take them.) Fifteen more days. (Yeah, I'm counting.)

Finding the Bright Side

I like:

The soft garump of a sleepy green frog out in the garden pond. Since the pond is covered with platter sized lily pads (and lots of blossoms this summer) we rarely see the little fish However, the frogs are always there to add a bit of action to the watery still life canvas. I love it when their calls, either emphatic when the sun has warmed them up or just a gentle gurgle on this early, foggy day, remind me that they think my homemade pond is close enough to the real thing to suit their herpie little selves.

I like:

Spending a couple of hours yesterday using a Barnes and Noble gift certificate given for my upcoming birthday by my delightful middle brother and wife. What joy, what joy....with a fledgling birder joining the happy pastime of counting and checking and observing the flying wild things, new field guides were in order. We have what we are mostly positive is a willow flycatcher living next to the driveway. When we looked it up in my old Birds of North America, which I have used all my life, Willow wasn't an option for a flycatcher. Time to catch up with the changes in taxonomy (dang those lumpers and splitters). So a new Birds of, a Sibley's, which I haven't used before, and a new Peterson's. Cool huh? Peck's Lake here we come, armed and dangerous with Latin names and new field marks and youthful enthusiasms galore. I like that. Now if my darling baby son will find my Kaufman's, which vanished a couple weeks ago when he was in charge...

I like:

Knowing that camp is coming. I feel guilty leaving LIz and Ralph with so much to do. There is enough work for all five of us never to catch up because it has rained until it is ridiculous. Flood watches every day. Flood warnings every night. Fat, leaking thunderstorms, lumbering up the valley, dropping inches every time they breath. I look forward to a too short lumpy bed, cheap novels, listening to loons languidly laughing. Board games. Catching six inch rock bass. Watching the sun rise over the water. I feel guilty, but that time of recharging and reordering is overdue and needed. I like knowing that it is so so close.



I like:

Talking with all of you. You add such color and texture to the fabric of all our lives. Even though you don't hear the boss talking too much here, even he loves us reading to him what is going on in your worlds. He comes out sometimes to see your pictures (especially all you farmers.....especially when it is machinery-thanks for the combines, Jeffro). We talk about your babies, both bovine and human. Your cats, dogs, snakes and fish. Birds and weather in states far away and jokes from England that brighten the day. Thanks!

Possible Last Minute Action on FMD Lab Relocation

Back on topic here....A good story from the Cattle Site
about questions being posed to Obama's appointee for the Science and Technology Directorate, physician Tara O’Toole as the Homeland Security Department’s Under Secretary.


It is about time somebody at least noticed that the powers that be are planning on plopping an infectious cattle disease research lab down right in the middle of one of the nation's biggest cattle regions. Duh.

I Don't Know What to Say Here

What is the latest thing in hair treatment? You probably don't want to know, but if you do, click this link and prepare to be grossed out .

And Peta strikes again. They want Wisconsin to change its name to America's Dairy Cow Hell.

CAP and Trade

Good morning. Sorry about yesterday. It dawned clear and sharp and bright. The air was clean and fresh. It didn't rain. So everybody in the family worked like a dog with two tails to take advantage before it starts pouring again. (This afternoon by all accounts.) Between grabbing a good day when we could and Frontier being down most of the day, I barely even looked at the computer. We cleaned the barn and Becky swept the whole house. I weeded the small garden patch. The guys chopped haylage. We cleaned mangers. We moved heifers up on the hill into the big heifer pasture.

They are a bunch of big ones we really wanted to keep right by the house for the summer, as we are breeding them AI. We need to see when they come in season and be able to catch them to do that. There are self-locking stanchions there we can use for the latter job. However with all the rain the mud in the yard became ridiculous. They just couldn't stay in it any longer. Now they are in a huge field with no headlocks, where it will be hard to see them in heat let alone catch them. We had to think about their health and comfort though.

Unfortunately it is also the field where we are holding the dry cows and calving some of them. Liz goes out every day and walks that fence and checks for new calves or new problems. I will worry more now as some of the big heifers are aggressive and others are overly friendly. (When something weighs well over a thousand pounds, cuddly is bad.) She takes a cell phone and a big stick but still....it got pretty western yesterday moving some of them. One of them, a big, ugly beast named Armada, was downright dangerous when we were trying to get her up the lane. (I am too old to dodge charging heifers, I have to say.) I think she may have sealed her fate and be looking at an auction-bound trailer ride next time we handle them. I need money to pay bills and we don't need dangerous animals. This was the second time she has caused problems.

Today we get another good weather day before storms are expected for tonight. Liz and I need to set up a couple of calf hutches as we have more calves than we have places to put them. We need to get strawberries before the season ends. Rain and frost have made that a big problem. Becky needs to get taken to Walmart for going to Potsdam supplies.

We lost one of our best heifers to bloat Saturday night into Sunday (one of those in the barn until ten thirty nights). I for one still haven't gotten past it. If you have them you will lose them, s**t happens and all, but she was a Silky Cousteau out of an Ocean View Extra Special, a really, really special animal. It was just a freak thing. We treated her and had her coming around good, but she was still pretty weak. Sunday morning Liz and Ralph milk. She was okay then. They came in from the barn for breakfast and while they were eating she rolled herself over on her head and probably suffocated. Only heifer her mother ever had and she is gone too so.....

Just a lousy weekend overall.

Sunday Stills, Things with Wings

(My favorite so far.)

Katydid delivery (it's not Digiorno)

Our little wrens fledged yesterday. (Can you believe there were at least seven in that tiny little bird house? Alan said it was like a clown car in there when he peeked in to see them the night before they left us.)

Anyhow when we got up there was a great uproar from the sitting porch. A baby wren would stick its head out of the box and clatter frantically.

Ready to launch

An adult would show up, insect in beak, but rather than insert its booty in the door, it would call from a flower pot across the way until the baby popped out and fluttered into the air. They were remarkably accomplished at flying right from the get go....

Mama calling the kids to come out for a picnic

This continued until we had seen seven. (There could have been more before and I thought there was still chirping coming from the box as we were leaving.) On one hand I will miss them. They are endlessly entertaining with their constant coming and going. And the way they take on the world with no fear at all. On the other hand it is going to be nice to sit on the porch without feeling guilty about disturbing them. It astonishes me that in a couple of weeks the parents managed to raise this mighty brood from eggs the size of kidney beans. On bugs! No wonder they had a fit whenever I went out on the porch. They didn't have time to pause in their insect delivery.

Baby staging location (before they left for parts unknown.
There was one in another pot by the door....Alan didn't see it and when he went out to see where it went it nearly flew in his ear.)

And lest I feel bereft of wrenliness, the male is singing from the other porch now...they have nested there for several years, so I suspect there is another brood in the planning stages.

Male singing from the camel bells

For more Sunday Stills....

And just in case you are sick of wrens...Here's Lucy!

***Most pics were taken through the screen door....sorry....

****Update, they spent the night on the other front porch and are out there now making quite a racket. The big wrens should get parent of the year awards or something.

Who Needs TV?

Or what I saw from the sitting porch yesterday as we waited out another rainy day...








On another note, Google is after me to upgrade how much storage I use here at Northview and on Garden Records and the View at Northview. Rather than send them twenty bucks I really can't afford to spend on playthings, I am going to go back and remove some of my less than stellar photos and not so interesting posts. Thus if you have any old favorites....now is the time, so to speak. Or let me know and I will leave 'em. Thanks for reading..

Strange Sky

Farmer Protest

Farmers protest labor bill currently in front of state senate.




Here is another story.




Update*** We need to get all over this one. Bank of America Partners with HSUS
There is a form letter you can use to let them know what you think about them joining such an enemy of animal agriculture.

A Bigger, Better Bird Feeder

The yard is alive with birds.




More than usual, even though there have really been a lot of them this summer. I went out yesterday to check on a yellow warbler that hit the big windows. (He was fine.)






And found that the mulberry trees are loaded with fruit. Cat birds, mockingbirds, cedar waxwings, robins and just about everybody in the neighborhood are in full holiday mode. I hope they stay away from my laundry.

Excellent Arguments Against NAIS

Chuck Jolley interview with Rhonda Perry.
Well worth a read!

Liberating Lucy

As longtime readers may know, we received a while back the unlikely gift of a turkey hen that is imprinted on people. Her name is Lucy. She is tame, sweet, and staggeringly stupid. She is a lovely sort of slate blue and turkey brown. She walks around the yard, beak pointed upward, chirping in a soft, melodious voice that sounds like a mother tenderly cooing to her babe. You can walk right up to her...except when you need to put her in the hen house. (Did I mention that she is about as smart as a lump of butter.?)





Who knew that when we decided to let the hens, absurdly multitudinous roosters, and good old Lucy range free during the day, getting her back inside would be so darned hard?

The first night Becky went out to close the door on the hens, as farm bird care is nominally her job. She returned much scratched and not too happy, ranting and raving about how hard it is to catch and carry a turkey. Yeah right. She is such a drama queen.

Then last night she wanted to watch some special TV show and the sun sets kinda late these days (for which I am everlastingly grateful). So I said I would put the birds away when it got dark.

A quarter to ten. The sky to the East and North is still glowing peachy gold, with puffy dark grey clouds, like fat smoky cats littering the horizon. I take my trusty flashlight and revel in the fact that it is still lightish at ten at night. I love the long days. Just love them.

A swirl of the light through the hen house reveals sleeping hens and roosters, like feathered fruit, on every high place.

No Lucy.

I find her sitting alone in the middle of the driveway looking very sorry for herself. When she sees me she starts to walk quickly away so I grab her tail. Everyone who has ever captured poultry knows you never grab the tail. The grab-ee turns into an instant self-propelled windmill, whirling on frantic wings until the tail feathers all pull out. The bird runs away, less fluffy in the rear perhaps, but free from your clutches anyhow. Well, if you think grabbing a chicken that way is exciting, try a turkey. Her huge, heavy, wings drummed on my arms and smashed my face. Her tail didn't pull out but I let go....just couldn't hang on.

So I herded her through nettle and burr, up almost to the door of the hen house. She obviously wasn't going in so I grabbed her again, this time by the base of her wings. What a powerhouse! When she flapped, I flapped. She doesn't look very big but I felt like the little dog that finally caught the car. I staggered over to the coop, threw her inside, and slammed the door.

Turkeys are strong. All that thick breast meat? Pure muscle. Schwarztenbirdie personified so to speak I am not sure I want to do that every night so I am thinking of closing dear Lucy in the caged part of the hen house and letting only the hens run free. I am not so sure that I will win the next time.

Air

We finally opened the big front doors yesterday. Normally this is a job for late April. I hate having plastic up over the beautiful windows so I pull it down as soon as I can bear to. We have no choice but to put up plastic as the old doors are drafty as a bat cave and the wind beats against the front of the house all winter like the devil's angry fist.

However, last fall the guys managed to put plastic over the outside instead of inside where I have to staple it up...so we could see the windows all winter.

Then there has been this cold, wet, unforgiving spring. I didn't WANT to take the plastic down. It has been that cold.

Yesterday dawned sticky and breathless. No air. No breeze. Drawing breath was a conscious job and the valley smelled like a wet mop. I tried to pry the plastic off, but I am short and turning into a worse wienie every year. Liz had to do it. As soon as it was down and the doors were opened, the house took a deep breath and finally, finally, shuddered off winter. Soon a breeze popped up and the laundry began to snap on the clothesline......and within an hour the wren was on that porch. Despite nesting in the box on the other porch. Despite spending weeks swinging from the camel bells there and chittering all day long, he moved the minute the doors were open.

Somehow the birds seem to know that if they sing in front of the door on that porch, the two-story, ten-foot ceilings front hallway will serve as a birdie Carnegie Hall for them, amplifying and strengthening their voices until they sound like the biggest birds on the river. I wonder how long it will take the mockingbird to show up....and the great crested fly catcher...phoebe....cardinal....I wonder if they have been doing this since the house was built so very long ago..

Wishful Thinking

Sunday Stills...Tri Color

For more Sunday Stills......