To Every Thing

There is a season...

Around here it's nesting season. You already probably know about the Mourning Dove nest on the sitting porch. Have I mentioned that I love that bird? She never ever moves (except to blink) when I am out there. It is refreshing to be able for the first time in years to share the porch with nesting birds and not have to go indoors every few minutes so the flaky  cautious parents can come back to feed babies or keep eggs warm.

Eastern Phoebe

There's also a pair of Eastern Phoebes that are nesting somewhere on or under the porch Alan built us a couple of years ago. I can't for the life of me spy the actual nest. I don't want to disturb the birds, which were carrying grass and twigs and now are shuttling large beaks full of insect material, so I don't go too close. I think that they're going through the lattice on the bottom and nesting underneath. Handy spot.

Then the other day I spotted a Carolina Wren sneaking into the freezer the kids left in the backyard....don't ask. Wrens are anything but subtle and Carolinas are the noisiest of the lot. I knew something was up.

I tiptoed up into the garden and sneaked a peek. There's a football-sized conglomeration of sticks and junk parked in the corner of the top shelf of the old thing. 

A little later a tiny brown projectile shot out through an opening on the side of the football.

Nice! Smart little critters. The freezer faces east, out of the prevailing winds, it's watertight, and thanks to its orientation to the house you can't see inside. I'm staying away from that part of the yard for now but I can't wait to see the nestlings when they hatch and fledge. Cutest little things....

Best one though:

We were on the way to purchase milk for the folks the other day, when we found the most exciting nest of the season.

As we drove through busy traffic on a feeder road leading to a main arterial highway through the county to the north of us, a large bird flew over the car quite low. I thought it was a Great Blue Heron at first, as something long was trailing behind. However, the something was a large branch not legs. The boss quickly stopped the car in a handy-dandy pull off right there.

The bird was an Osprey. I'd never seen one in that county before.

Amazingly there were TWO Osprey constructing a huge nest on top of a convenient cell phone tower right near a business building. Even though they are right in a semi-urban commercial area, but they seemed unbothered by traffic and travelers.

How cool is that?!?

Ajar

A gallon jar sits on a dresser.

Cool, clear, green, a little dusty, a flaw here and there

But lovely in its way.

It's filled with pennies, almost to the brim.

Their dates represent many years, some have stems of wheat on the back, strange mint marks, and dates before, behind, and between.

Some glow brightly, fresh-minted, and warm pinky copper, shining like small sunshine in heaps inside the jar.

Something moves.

Something changes.

The jar is shifted, teeters, tips. Pennies fall from its wide mouth. First a few, then a dozen, next a hundred and a cascade.

They roll and flow across the dresser, some dropping to the floor and bouncing away across the carpet. Some lying where they fall. The jar tips farther and farther until it falls right over. The last of the pennies tumble to the floor with a noisy clinking tinkle.

The jar crashes down upon them and splinters into tiny pieces, scattered on the floor.

Oh no!

Where once there was a familiar container full of tokens of value, some prettier than others but all of worth to the owner, there is now only chaos. Nothing familiar. Nothing normal. Nothing right.

Hard not to be daunted by what will be required to make things better.

Not the same. The jar is gone forever. 

But at least better.

You may find all the pennies, even if you have to get down on your knees. Even if you must move the dresser and sweep under the bed you will find most of them. You will have to work around the bits of glass, pick them up ever so carefully, and find a way to put them out of your life.

But the jar is gone.

Maybe you will find a new one, clear glass, or perhaps painted with a pretty pattern. Maybe a piggy bank. Maybe you will roll all those pennies, take them to the bank and turn them in for folding money to tuck away in a drawer.

No matter what, everything will be changed when it is done.

Everything. 

And that is how these days feel to me. Life still has its pennies, bright ones, wonderful wheat pennies to be saved in the saki bowl on the mantel, shiny new ones fresh from the mint, but they are mixed with what feels like shattered glass and sharp edges, in no clear pattern and with no clear plan.

Good thing there are still birds....or I would really be getting crazy.

NAY-pril

This is NOT April.

April is a month of new baby birds, fresh bright flowers, and balmy spring breezes.

At least in theory.

However, April was hijacked.

This is a stone b*tch of a month dug from some ancient calendar of horrors sent to make staying home more fun. Shudder.

Also the longest month in history. Usually first of the month bills race up to the checkbook finish line, out of breath and palms extended. This year they just keep moving the goal posts.

I suppose that is a good thing. Sorta.

That is all.

Thank you.

The Eyes have It

There is an American Bittern in this photo.
The boss and I spotted him at just about the same time.
I really wanted one for my county list this year.
No FOY dance though as I was too busy taking photos.

Patience Grasshopper

All things come to she who goes birding and racks up around 12 complete checklists with Google maps down and non-functional. Maps is an integral part of the app and you can't submit checklists from the phone if it isn't working. Guess who uses mobile pretty much exclusively....

And therefore figures out the next day more or less where the heck all those lists were geographically and enters them by hand on the computer.

Only took an hour and a half.

And then must uninstall eBird and reinstall it. Plus the bird pack for the region.

Will it work now?

Thousands want to know. Particularly me. 

Guess I will go out on the porch to count a few yard birds and see.

Catch you later.....

Update: it worked!

Birds are my Crack

The road to adventure

Been realizing lately that they have always been mega important to me. I started taking notice when I was small and living upstairs over Grandma and Grandpa Montgomery. I remember checking out Common Grackles and American Robins on the sidewalk beside the house while my little brother was racing his wagon down the hill with sometimes dire consequences. I remember the lilacs and lilies of the valley too, but that is another story.

Birds have fascinated me ever since and I have always, always watched. However, there used to be many other things too, horses from infancy, both real and imagined. Dogs, starting with beagles that ate the kitchen linoleum in the same time frame as the grackles and Radio Flyers, and progressing through many amazing creatures, culminating in Border Collies. (Jack Russell Terrier thrown in for comic relief.) And music. There was always music.

Then came cows. They will consume your life. You won't mind.

Now retired from cows, too old, lame, and halt for much to do with horses, down to just one dog, a good boi, but just one, birds remain.

And I am addicted.

Looking for an American Bittern seen by a birder friend yesterday
Didn't find it

I agonize over finding new ones. List compulsively. Am not happy until I have photographed every single one of them. (Haven't met that challenge yet, but I have 211 species with photos on eBird. That's out of 238 species I have technically seen, but there were many more before eBird that I can't document. I saw them though.) 

Probably couldn't have seen if it was perched on the hood ornament

When I can't list, I study, take quizzes, and then study some more. 

And dream about birds at night. I've always thrown myself wholeheartedly into my assorted passions. Now, as other things wane, it's birds, feathers down. (Not to mention down feathers, tee hee.)

Call me obsessive.

But hey, it's a lot of fun. 

This does not mean however, that I am delighted at the Mourning Dove building a nest on a porch pillar right over where I like to sit. Sharing is caring and all, but still.....

And I thought the robins were bad.

Smol Thing

Brown Creeper, nemesis for three years
Found yesterday thanks to his tinkly song

Opened the sitting porch yesterday, a small thing for sure.

And yet kinda lorge as well. This morning it is a little chillier in the living room than it might be because most of the plastic is off the door.

However, the chickadees found the summer feeder as soon as I hung it up. I think they followed me around the house when they saw the seed cup in my hands.

They were downright gleeful at having it all to themselves and kept up a steady shuttle to and fro until they all had their fill.

It's the little things.

As the mornings warm up a bit I can now sneak out there for a few early minutes with the dawn and the dinosaur descendants and forget about the bigger things we are all facing these days.

Oh, and coffee. It wouldn't be morning without coffee.

Golden-crowned Kinglet

The Straws

That broke the collective lock down backs seem to have been boat launches and golf courses.

It appeared to me all through this that our illustrious goobernor wanted a new headline every week, "Look what I'm doing to save you!" so each week he announced yet another stricture in the lives of his subjects. Many of them were fairly sensible and sensible people were probably adhering to them anyhow.......

However, there were some that were plumb senseless. Golf courses had been left open, as most people are able to observe recommended distances while whacking little white balls in the great outdoors. The ones who weren't going to follow those concepts probably weren't doing so anywhere else either.

Same with boat launches. The boss and I visit a boat launch pretty near every day, preferably early in the morning when the birds are out and the people aren't. 

Although marinas were one of the early things closed boat launches were still okay until last week's go round of new rules and regulations. It was disconcerting in the extreme to meet a ranger going into the park as we were going out....would we have been in trouble for birding? Dunno, but it was a concern and an unnecessary added stress.

Anyhow, talk about a tipping point. Or a back breaking straw if you prefer. Most of my Facebook experience up to the boat and white ball strictures consisted of people arguing mildly and calling each other stupid, but in a routine, this is Facebook after all, sort of way.

After the boat launch/golf course thing I was invited to join a number of secret protest groups full of rabid people who were really, really, really outraged about the deal. Memes popped up like dandelions in a shaggy lawn. And yes, I did join the groups, but soon had to hide most of their output as it was just more people calling each other stupid only in an angrier sort of way.

There was no joy in Upstateville to put it mildly.

I predicted, aloud so I have witnesses, that the first things reopened again had better be boat launches and golf courses and that it had better happen in the next couple of days or there would be an uprising and good ideas would go down with the bad..

Lo and behold.....look what happened.

Sometimes there is nothing like a swift backpedal, or should I say backpaddle, to calm restless waters.....

Time

Male Eastern Bluebird

Sneaky snipe. Now you see them, now you don't
Wilson's Snipe

Snowgansers
Don't let the weather stop you
Hooded Merganser pair at a pond we have started visiting

The local lineup at another nearby pond

For some birds!

Tux and tails with red spats
Male Common Merganser

In appropriate habitat
Female Belted Kingfisher

It's ALL appropriate habitat
American Robin

Is this some kind of Joke?

My sentiments exactly.....

Know Your Farmer

Not to be an alarmist or anything.... I hate to spread possibly unnecessary concerns. 

However, I've been getting a teeny tiny bit worried. In light of the recent closures and partial closures of so many US protein processing plants, now might be a good time to get to know your local farmer.

We've been trying, since we sent our own last beef cow to the processor, to purchase local beef whenever we can.  Some farms sell their products by the cut or pound, which is how we prefer to buy. Others sell shares or standard packages of assorted cuts. Chicken and pork can be a little problematic to find, but many farmers raise and process beef cows, oftentimes having it USDA inspected and certified. Many farms also sell lamb. I haven't purchased lamb locally yet, but I'll bet you it is a lot better quality than store bought.

Prices we've paid for beef are sometimes a little higher than store retail, but quality usually is better as well. We just bought a few pounds of locally-grown hamburger last night, plus to our great good fortune our boy and his wife shared some meat from their last beefer with us. 

If we have the choice we buy meat that has been cryovacced, as it keeps for a really long time. We are still eating a few cuts off our last cow and she was processed a couple of years ago. 

Another thing we have been doing routinely for a couple of years is buying whole pork loins instead of pork chops. It's a simple matter to cut your own chops to the thickness you prefer and is usually much cheaper. Then package and freeze. Loin quality is uniformly excellent, and there are no bones. Bones in chops increase the price you pay per pound of edible food. No waste with boneless.

Anyhow, if you happen to be reading this and sell homegrown meat retail, please feel free to leave a link in the comments. I have a feeling there may soon be plenty of customers.

Devil's Deluge

Late afternoon. 

Liz took Jill out on the hills for a run. Border Collies have to run and Jill is no exception.

It had rained off and on all day, with a few gusty winds thrown in to blow it around.

Not much of a deal though.

Sitting in my Sunday chair when something caught my eye. Not a Bald Eagle flashing past the big living room windows, as often happens.

Not a starling headed for the rooftop.

No, a wall of darkness, flying at us as if to tumble Hogwarts. And rain, a devil's downpour, blown horizontal by a gale.

The sky went from meh to mighty in the space of a second.

I have to watch storms. Cannot sit in my chair and ignore them. I have to look.

Yesterday I REALLY had to look as one of my favorite folks and a much loved pup were out on the hill in it. Mother worry overload.

Seemed like a long time before I saw them from my perch on the stair landing where I can see out over the barnyards and the road down from the fields. I ran for towels and put up the baby gate that confines wet pups to the kitchen.

Liz came in laughing at the storm. Jill came in soaked and covered with burdocks. 

Some toweling and grooming later all were fine. Wish you could see Liz's photos and videos of the incoming storm and outbounding dog. The storm was malevolence personified. The dog was hilarious, leaping into every pool and puddle at a dead run, flipping, flopping, and then flying out again to tear in circles so fast she could barely keep up with her feet.

Me, I just settled back in my chair, grateful that they were both all right. 

And went to bed early to pull up the covers and shut out the sounds of the raging wild winds. 

What a night

Joyous Son Rise

Hear the exaltation in the song of the Field Sparrow.

Happy Easter dear friends and family.

On the Land

We love to watch the progress of this field down by the river each year, from stark snow stitched with rows of golden stubble to waving tassels of pale yellow with plump fat ears dangling below.

Yesterday preparations for planting were in full swing.

Dawn Chorus Salute

Came downstairs to a robin quartet, all caroling in unison. Shadows laced the walls around me, reflecting thoughts of super moons and terrible losses.

To find that they were not projected by the moon but rather by work lights down on the Thruway.

There was no moon.

It's raining.

The song goes on and and on though, chickadees summer calling, Carolina Wren rhymes, a distant train mourning in deep whistles.

All singing and crying for John Prine I think. And the rain is tears. 

He wrote so much in beauty and meant so much to our family back in the days when my brother Michael and I played music together at family gatherings, him lending his beautiful voice and amazing talent to all, me playing backup just a little.

Paradise has long been one of my father's favorites and he always asked to hear it. For me it was Angel from Montgomery. I still love that song, even though arthritis stopped me from playing guitar some years ago.

The world is shedding talent and shredding hearts at all too fast a pace these days, spiraling down and down and ever downward. I cried for real for the first time yesterday. Not for any one of us but for all of us.....stay strong and safe dear friends and family. Much love from Northview Farm.

In a Small Town

The dance of the sugarplum......gulls

Things are different.

I've watched with horror the news stories of people willfully attempting to injure others by spreading this dread disease. Seen stories and photos of fools at the epicenter crowding together to watch that government ship pull in and cramming the subway as if togetherness was all the thing these days.

City stuff...all city stuff.

Tree Swallows

And then there are the small towns. I have seen a few and only a few incidents that made me cringe. A gaggle of bikers in leathers hugging one another in a parking lot and jumping up and down and making a show of themselves. Not impressed. Also probably not local folks. A few ill-advised play dates and the like.

But mostly, even though there are people on the bike path, fishing at the river, or walking the riverbed in the parks, they are almost all widely separated. I've seen lots of dads and moms out in yards playing with their kids and dozens of rainbows in windows showing solidarity and caring.

Local law enforcement is doing everything they can to help people weather this terrible storm too, from collecting pet food for food pantries and shelters to keeping us posted on numbers and news.

Then this morning our dear town clerk let me know that our tax payment, which has been in abeyance as offices are closed, will be processed today. Thus I can be even more careful not to overdraw the bank account today and tomorrow. That is the sort of kindness and thoughtfulness that sets small towns apart from soulless cities. 

Thanks Roxanne, that was really nice of you.

Stay safe and strong dear friends and family. I hope you are all finding ways to keep your minds distracted from the 24/7 horror show raging all around us. The state is encouraging people to use birding for that purpose.... so that is working.....at least in the daytime...for me.

Much love from Northview Farm.

Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda

Appomattox Court House

We shoulda been headed for the Outer Banks this weekend for a week of Civil War battlefields, beaches, and beautiful birds.

We went last year for the first time for the Birds, Beaches, and Battlefields tour and had the most fabulous time imaginable. And we did it all for under $800 for three people.

Cheap dates and all.

Alas this year we are home, along with most of the rest of the world.

Maybe someday......maybe someday.....we woulda if we coulda...

Meanwhile....

Love to all