Coming in Squalling

We all know about March and lions and lambs, but what is with all this squally weather in April anyhow? I don't remember ever having been this cold during this month.

Of course it may have something to do with being outdoors a lot every day, doing fool things like walking on the exposed riverbank down at the confluence of the Schoharie and the Mohawk, counting ducks and looking for sandpipers....

We were out yesterday evening driving over the local hills during a clear yellow sunset, which was very beautiful btw. All around us were small snow squalls, dragging chilly curtains over the fields and forests. It would be sunny in one spot and just feet away flurries were flurrying and winds were whirling.

It was pretty, but, oh my word, so cold. Still is today too...at least so far. I just came in from hanging out towels and they froze into weirdly contorted shapes before I could even grab the clothespins.

Oh, well, it stiffens up the mud at least.

Of Apples and Trees

This is my mama back when she and dad were birding. Isn't she wonderful? I hope I take after her....dad gave me this photo last time we visited and I just love it.

It's all a Scam

You know, that whole butter wouldn't melt in their beaks, cover of kindergartners' coloring books thing and all?

Yeah, that is fake news. Robins are the most combative, aggressive, battle-loving birds you can imagine. It's a wonder they don't wear kilts and clan tartan, so fiercely do they make war every day.

Right now it's time for them to work out who gets the best spots on the Northview Farm eaves, branches, porches etc. and they are going at it hammer and tongs...or should I say beaks and feathers?

I was standing in the driveway at just about dawn, trying to get a photo of a large bird in the distant hedgerow (crow, alas) when something brushed right past my leg with a whoop and a flutter. I mean they were THAT close!

Two male American Robins, so engrossed in fighting that they didn't even notice me. They went INSIDE the upturned lawn fertilizer spreader (!!!) to continue the fight. 

What a clatter. 

I could hear them in there right at my feet and wondered if I should tip it up so they could escape.

But no, after a few more curses and mutters they emerged, the victor spitting feathers and acting like he was all that and a bucket of rice.

I had to laugh.

I took to the Hills

Friendly Golden-crowned Kinglet

I've been so impatient, all winter since the snow came, so darned eager to walk out on the hill.

I couldn't. Our roads drift in feet deep; my knees will have nothing to do with snowshoes, and I just couldn't.

Then came mud. Same story with the knees. I kept trying though....can I go down the driveway? Down to the heifer barn? Up to the orchard?

Well, some days I could and did, but not up on the hills. Even a few days ago the road was clogged with snow and ice, with mud and running water filling in between.

This morning dawned bitter cold with the aftermath of horrific wind flowing down the valley from the west. I had to virtually kick myself out the door, even though the sun was shining bright and the farm roads calling. I put on all my winter stuff and chanced it.

What joy! What delight!

Oh, it was cold for sure, but the Golden-crowned Kinglets I hoped to find came right out to see me and even allowed a photo. It felt so good to walk somewhere besides around the mall and house. I found that I still had most of the muscle I worked for last summer and could stride right up and over. Eventually I came to a snow drift I didn't want to chance and called it good, but what a morning!

Hope it will be as cold tomorrow only without the wind, so I can climb right up unhampered by the mud, to see what the hills have to show and tell.

Peekaboo

I see you.......

The Loop

A pair of Wood Ducks on a rainy, snowy, pond. We saw 14 more in a wet spot in a hay field

Two Snow Geese are still hanging around

And this Snowy Owl, that seems utterly unconcerned by our presence
We saw Horned Larks and Snow Buntings up in Stone Arabia too.....

We have a set of roads we travel here in our home town. It rarely lets us down. It is where we saw the Merlin, the Golden Eagle, and many others. Today was no exception.

I Accidentally ate the Easter Bunny's Carrots

My first chore most mornings, after walking dogs and all, is picking up kitchen detritus deposited after I went to sleep the night before.

Yesterday there was a paper plate on the stove. It held a few kinda shriveled carrot sticks. I ate them and tossed the plate. It's a mom thing.

A couple of hours later Liz came to me and said, "Thank you so much, Mom, for taking care of the Easter Bunny's carrots for me! I forgot all about them."

Well, okay then. 

Just how low do you have to stoop to steal food from a magic rabbit?

I dunno, but I guess I can bend that far.

The Hills are Alive

A doe with last year's fawn. From what we saw she may still be letting her nurse
Look how fat she is!

These photos were all shot from the back porch door

And show the top of the heifer pasture hill, where everyone loves to party

He is Risen

Fish Story

Great Blue Heron

I subscribe to the old fishing nostrum that the worst day fishing is better than a great day doing pretty much anything else....except, although I do love to fish...it's birding for me. Any day birding is better than almost anything else.

Thus when a good friend offered a day trip to Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge I couldn't say yes fast enough....even though the wildlife drive was still closed for winter.

Sandhill Crane

At 0'Dawn-Thirty we debated....rain until 11...should we go or postpone.

I'll bet you can guess how I voted.

Photo by Kris

By the time we made it half way there, rain was lashing down. Hmm....

However, Northern Shovelers, Green-winged Teal, and Northern Pintails in the visitor's center. pool made it feel like a pretty good plan.

Trumpeter Swan

We soldiered on through intermittent rain, seeing bird after bird after astonishing bird. And we had so much fun. You know those friends the Internet memes mention, with whom you can strike up a conversation after years of separation and never miss a beat? Yeah, like that, only with birds. You can rest easy...most of the world's problems are solved.

The rain behaved as predicted and by noon it was reasonably dry. As we tooled around one country road we saw bumps in a corn field. They were kinda sorta different-ish bumps so we stopped and lo and behold there were three Sandhill Cranes, the main goal birds of the day.

Ring-necked Duck

They posed quite willingly.

We hit the Audubon Center, the Sandhill Crane unit, all the other stops I'm familiar with excepting the wildlife drive because you know...closed and all. 

For the last stop of the day we returned to the main center so Kris could get a hat, as she had forgotten hers. As we drove in we exclaimed in unison, "it's open!"

The park opened a day early just an hour before our second visit. Of course we made the circuit.

We found Cranes!

Cranes, cranes everywhere

At almost the last pool of the day a bird with a bright, orange-red head flew in. We both dismissed it as a Redhead. We had seen several and were counting Gadwalls and figuring out why some females showed more white on the secondaries than others.

Eurasian Wigeon

Something made me take a second look and I was afraid to believe my eyes. Our "Redhead" was a beautiful male Eurasian Wigeon. I was so excited!

It would have been hard to come close to that level of amazement but when we came home there were cranberry barbecue chicken and potatoes boiling on the stove. I thought it was Liz making their dinner.

Instead the boss was cooking supper! He had never cooked chicken before but he knocked it out of the park. We had an awesome and incredible day and that's no fish story.

And an Otter Thing

Northern Shrike

We spent considerable time on the road yesterday, what with going over to see the lineup for tomorrow's auction at MacFadden's and all. We happened to spend a few minutes at Yankee Hill Lock, which were very enjoyable.

We walked the bike path a bit, finding nobody new, but lots of activity with a little mixed feeding flock. 

There were Cedar Waxwings, actively hawking insects that only they could see.

We found Hedwig on the Hudson again...or on the Mohawk, if you prefer

And, as we stood on the river bank, scanning for ducks and geese, the boss pointed at something about twenty feet off shore and exclaimed, "What is that!"

There in a boil of water, speeding downriver in the speeding current was a river otter.

Holy cow!

Exciting photo of a spot where an otter was just fractions of a second before

I tried for a photo, but he was only coming up for a quick breath and then diving again. This was the best I could do.

What a thrill though. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of wild otters I have seen. It was a fitting beginning to what turned out to be a delightful day.

School's out

Important Cargo

Stranger than Fiction

This is our house. 

When we were kids we called it the haunted house...we didn't live there then, just went by on the school bus. I never met the boss til I was 30, though he lived on our bus route.

Nowadays, when we give directions we just say, "Look for the house that looks as if the Addams family lives there."

See the two birds on the chimney and the tower?

Yeah, Black Vultures.

You can't make this stuff up.

Where the Wild Things Are

We had only a short spell of birding yesterday, as the boss was away all day with a friend, sharing carpentry and camaraderie, and generally having a good time.

We went out in the gathering evening, to hit the river in search of that elusive Greater White-fronted Goose. Thought I saw it, but nope, it was gone.

On the way home, we followed the loop that has netted us everything from that surprising Golden Eagle to Snow Buntings, Horned Larks, and the handsome little Merlin in recent weeks.

We were treated to a stunning sunset, the valley a clear bowl of light awash in gold as bright as treasure and as warming to the soul. The mountains and trees painted inky sketches against the sky, and it was good and calming indeed.

As we descended one hilly road we often traverse, a sound rang out. The boss thought it was the car coming up with yet another squeak or squawk.

I knew though that it was a bird. A bird I had never heard before. We turned around and went back to see if we could figure out what it was. I set up the little camera to record the sound.

All was quiet.

Then SHRIEK!! it came again.

And again, screaming like you never imagined. I knew it wasn't an owl. I study owl calls, even the ones we don't see or hear around here.

Not an owl.

The only thing it reminded me of was the male peacock, back when we had them. He used to scream whenever he saw me come out the back door, which tickled my fancy no end.

We sat there a long time, peering into the gloomy trees, seeing nothing, but hearing plenty.

Then suddenly something fluttered across the brush line. Too dark for me to see what it was, but Mr. X-ray vision laughed and said, "It's a pheasant."

Yep, after two YEARS of looking for pheasants we found two in just a few days.

The bridge gave us another show...

Patience Grasshopper

I was just waiting for the boss to wake up so I could ask him to take me down to the river to look for a bird......he takes Becky to work at quarter to four every day, so I try to let him get a little sleep in the morning.

And then I found out he had to go away elsewhere for the day.....

Drat.

See, while we were perusing a thousand or so Canada Geese up in Fort Plain yesterday, another birder was seeing the Greater White-fronted Goose we were hoping to spot, right here in tropical Fultonville.

I was hoping to hit the river as early as possible.

Oh, well, the best laid plans and all.....guess I will work on the Farm Side and hope an ooh ahh bird shows up at the feeder. It's been known to happen....

Askance

Frieland Bama Breeze

The girls didn't seem too impressed with my visit this morning.

Maqua-kil Neon Moon

The Cows Come Home

Mike in the Middle

This is a 2000 era Farm Side column I dug out to share with a friend and retyped. All winter long I now keep a small flashlight in my jeans pocket, and bathrobe pocket (I have chased many a heifer and done many a barn check in that old, green, reindeer robe) and there are dozens on the counter. I am rarely out of reach of one. Dear old Mike his long gone now, but we sure had some great times, back in the day.

Step number 1) Remember to bring the flashlight.

“The cows are out.” Words to strike terror in a farmer’s heart. Even worse if the speaker is a state trooper. Especially when the telephone rings at 2 AM.

You’re sleeping peacefully with visions of new tractors dancing in your head. You fumble for the phone and try to find your ear in the dark.

A voice says, “This is Trooper So and So. Do you have a farm on (whatever road you live on)?”

When you reply in the affirmative, you learn that your cows are in the road.

Terrific.

We experienced this phenomenon twice this year. Two untimely rodeos were caused by the power company. They thoughtfully removed our pasture fence in order to build an access road. Sadly, they forgot to put it back up and we forgot to check on them so...at 2 AM...it was Trooper So and So.

Our cows were out on 5S.

In my infinite stupidity, I crawled out of a cozy bed to help my husband corral them-voluntarily. After all, the dogs work best for me and a good dog makes rounding up strays easier.

Theoretically.

I stuffed my feet into old sneakers, collected Mike, gathered up a rope, and set out.

What? Take along a light when you’re chasing cows in the dark? Heck, that would take foresight. Not my style.

At the farm, I was met by flashing lights at the bottom of the barn driveway. I proceeded to find out why smart folks carry flashlights when they peregrinate in the dark. What with the construction, the road had no shoulders, so I staggered blindly through the mud to the source of all the light.

Lucky me.

Gael, rounding up a roo

A compassionate neighbor and a pleasant state trooper had already gotten the effant bovines out of the road.

Unfortunately, off the road consisted of on top of the cliff that resulted from the construction of our new driveway. This cute little precipiece is somewhere between 20 and 30 feet high, and a nice, sheer, 90-degree angle from the the hard, unforgiving ground. Cows have four-wheel-drive and clamber up such escarpments with ease.

Fat women don’t.

I kept Mike on a leash, since it’s pretty hard to see a black dog in the dark (especially without a flashlight.) The trooper thoughtfully lit our way with his spotlight, as we clawed up the easiest part of the bank. (Easiest is a euphemism for just barely possible to surmount if you grab onto little bushes and convince the dog that, just this once, you want him to drag you, rather than heel.)

Lucky for me, Mike has four-wheel-drive too, and will try anything if it gives him a chance to work stock.

Once up, I still kept the long rope on him, since the flat area at the top of the cliff is only about eight feet wide. The bossy cow ringleader thought it was cute to perform a high-wire act at the very edge of the precipice. She tippie-toed daintily along, silhouetted against the glare of the spotlight. I was afraid in his enthusiasm that Mike would push her off the edge and follow her over. Of course, with the rope on there was the possibility that he would drag me along too.

Meanwhile, Ralph ran to get the barnyard gate open.

With much yelling of commands, like “Walk up…. Lie down! Lie down! Lie DOWN you blankety-blank idiot!”, MIke and I, lit by the kindly trooper, drove the miserable, rotten, cows, along the cliff top.

All this was going about as well as could be expected, what with cows, and over-eager stock dogs and all, when suddenly the trooper turned off his spotlight and sped away.

I assume that he had another call, or else, since we were out of his sight, he thought we had the situation under control.

Under control.

Under siege more like. I stood there at the narrowest part of the cliff, in the dark, among the thistles, fastened by a rope to an enthusiastic dog, who wanted to get those cows and get them now. I was terrified that he would pull me over.

So why didn’t I just let him loose to deal with them himself? For one thing I have six years of training invested in him. And besides I like him. I hung on tight.

Somehow we fumbled over rocks, through thorns and mud, pushing those lousy bovines to the gate.

When they were all inside the barnyard, Ralph said, “let’s leave them and go home and get some sleep.”

Since I didn’t want to do the little chore we’d just finished ever again, I insisted that we lock them up in the barn.

Good thing, because somehow a first-calf heifer we had left indoors overnight had become entangled in her stall and was almost hung from her stanchion. Had we not performed our little drama on the cliff and then put the cows inside she would surely have been dead by morning. Instead she’s fine.

Sometimes you just get lucky.

The next day I checked how close the ring leader had gotten to the edge. Her tracks actually overlapped it.

We let Mike watch TV for a couple of hours as a reward for his part in the action. He thinks all those little moving figures might be cows and he loves to watch.

And I now keep a heavy-duty flashlight under my pillow.

I have nightmares about that stupid cliff.

If you ever wondered about the threecollie thing