Don't try this at Home, Part Two

Somewhere near the closing of a busy day yesterday my younger brother contacted me looking for a little company. His wife is away and he was lonesome.

I would have gone anyhow, as we are close and always have been, but the carrot-on-a-stick of a little birding was thrown in, so I was downright eager.

We had intended to perhaps head into the 'Dacks, but time got short so we opted instead to look for Cline Road Marsh, a Fulton County hotspot of which I had been unaware until recently. Folks have been finding REALLY good birds there so I was ready.

First we indulged in a bit of navigational failure. I had looked at maps, but not paid a lot of attention, as I didn't think I was likely to get to go anytime soon....and there is no service out there. However we wandered down into St. Johnsville, got the GPS running and soon found one half of the place. 

It more than lived up to expectations. We had no more than stopped the truck when Marsh Wrens started chattering from the cattails. A Great Blue Heron perched above. Wandering watery leads led off into the grasses like temptation itself.

I birded my heart out for a bit until Toad started getting hot (canine companion of the French Bulldog persuasion.) With the air conditioning improving his comfort level we went looking for the other half.

I mistakenly (no navigational devices functioning) thought we were in the western part. Nope, eastern. However we set out looking for the other part...to the east...

And ended up off-roading up and down on the fateful and always to be remembered Schulenberg Road.

Schulenberg Road is not actually a road. It is a mountain moose path. It somewhat reminded me of Tom's Tiny Torture Trails of years gone by, although this was done in a big ol' Ford and not on horseback. At least the thousands of voracious deerflies were limited to only trying to eat the mirrors off the truck and couldn't get to us.

Said road is a genuine corduroy road, with gnarled and lumpy logs making up much of its creeping path through swamps and over (large!) rocks and ridges.

I soon discovered what popcorn feels like as we traversed much of its ever-narrowing, ever-wilder, and ever-rockier length. I hereby apologize to every single kernel that has ever bounced around a red-hot pan on my behalf.

I shot a few seconds of video of the ordeal adventure but had to stop for fear of breaking my camera on the dashboard or wresting my head from my neck if I didn't hang on.

But we made it. And now I know where the marsh is and can perhaps coerce coax the boss into an early morning run up that way someday soon. 

Swamp Thang, photo by Matt

It was well worth the headache, whiplash, and general leftover malaise from the trip to have experienced such a journey...put me in mind of both the Golden Road in Maine ("Where does this road lead?" "Canada") or field cars with the Aesch boys BITD. (As a mere girl I always had to ride in the backseat and always came away wrecked, but delighted that the boys let me join the mayhem.)

Anyhow, enjoy the little video...

***Also, a very Happy Birthday to my other brother, Michael, who is back in the 518 for a little bit of Upstate summer. Love you, big guy, hope you have a wonderful day!

Wow, Two Thou

 

I was amazed today when I went into My eBird to upload audio from some Downy Woodpecker fledglings and a singing Warbling Vireo.

Today is day two thousand of a checklist every consecutive day.

Recently fledged Downy Woodpecker
Every year the parents bring them in to the
suet feeder and try to leave them there.
Kinda like droppin' 'em off at college I guess.

There were days when the only checklist was a couple of Blue Jays seen from the window on the stair landing as I staggered back to bed while suffering from COVID or adenovirus and there were days of over fifty lists when chasing Christmas Bird Counts and Century Runs, but one way or another there were always lists.

This birding thing is a whole lot of fun and I just can't seem to leave it alone.

I want ALL the birds

And there are always more birds....

Brand new fledgling House Wren,
Minutes out of the nestbox

Happy Father's Day

 

Whether this is your fiftieth Father's Day or your first.

Whether you are trying to be dad, or need to be a dad, or if you wish you were a dad and are waiting.

This day's for you.

Happy Father's Day Ralph, Alan, Scott, Michael, Matthew, Uncle Larry, and all you dads out there and wannabes and all.

And Happy Father's Day to my dad, Roger, up in Heaven I am certain....you must know how we miss you. And both the grandpas and all the missing and much-missed uncles too....

Blessings to all.

Moth Pros

 

Can you tell me what these two are? I figured out for myself that the butterfly is a Viceroy rather than a Monarch, based on the dark line on the hindwing, and the date of its appearance. Have seen several of same up in the fields.

Thanks!

Viceroy Butterfly

Suddenly I found Myself

 ...unexpectedly working a Border Collie.

My three dogs are all gone, those little black collies of long-ago fame. Now, all I have is my tiny terrorist, er, terrier, Mack. His idea of work is to ignore me until he knows he has no choice.

But, hey, you never know...

The rain had finally ended, the sky had settled down.

Out to the backyard line I thought I'd go.

The table cloth was wrinkled, you could tell it at a glance.

The breeze would prolly fix that, don't cha know?

Because of doggie daycare, I had a pup along.

She likes to travel with me close in tow.

But then.....without warning....

Chickens and ducks under the bird feeder, oh, my!!!!!!

She was off in a trice, crouched low and showing lots of "eye". I hollered, "That'll do."

Hah! She paused for a second, just to let me know she'd heard, 

Then headed out again to really herd.

"Lie down!"

Nope, she was trained before we got her, but there isn't any lie down on her atall, atall.

"That'll do!"

Another pause, but she swung off, come bye, as if I'd meant that all along.

She has a nice, wide outrun anyhow. 

She knew she was wrong, and enough vocal authority brought her back to my feet, where she propped on her hinders peering over the flowerbed to see where the birdies went.

Man, did that ever take me back. I haven't worked a dog in years, and I never was terribly elegant at it. I had good dogs though, so I sometimes looked better than I was, but the credit for bulls moved and critters gathered goes entirely to them, with yours truly just along for the ride.

I have to say I loved it, that little bit of time travel. If that was my pup we'd go out and play gather up the poultry, but she's not, so I will just throw her ball for her and tell her she's a good girl.

That'll do, Jill, that'll do.

Mike, Nick, and Gael, BITD

Roadside Story

 

Saw these under a tree by the side of the road the other day.

No Sunday sales.

I do not need a puppy.

However, I cajoled Ralph into turning around to go back...just to ask ya know...

"How much for your puppies?"

"Tree hunderd dollars."

"Are they Jack Russells?"

Mama seemed unconcerned about the two breed thing
and was enjoying perhaps the first uninterrupted bone in a long time

"No, terriers. Tha mother is two breeds, some Toy Fox Terrier and another breed."

O...kay.....

"They are awful cute...thanks for your time..."

Nope I do not need a puppy, at least not at this time.

As I said, cute though....we went by again yesterday and they seemed to all be still there. Kids were snuggling them and they appeared pretty happy about it.

To the far Blue Mountain

 

....Lake Museum that is. 

The kids and Baby Bailey took me along with them on a visit Saturday and what a great time we had.

Passenger Pigeon
Quite a pretty bird~

Northern Goshawk
Having only ever seen one, I had to guess
Checked online...guessed right this time.

From continuing a longstanding tradition of enjoying the hamburger platter at King of the Frosties in Speculator (ate there for the first time back when we were playing in the band and driving around the 'Dacks on frigid winter nights, listening to the trees explode as the temperature dropped) to marveling over the incredible collection of awesome wooden watercraft, it was just plain fun.

And Bailey is simply the best baby, bar none. She took in the whole museum, utterly entranced by all there was to see, without a whimper, until she needed a run to get the kinks out.

 

Thanks kids! And thanks for the gas card, which made it possible for us to visit Dingman Road for the Clay-colored Sparrows AND (!!!) Sara Lib Road quarry.

Smelling the Roses

 

Red-bellied Woodpecker

We went out last night to pick up milk for the house. Farm households like ours go through a lot of it, especially during these hot, sticky days, when its refreshing balance of vitamins and minerals is a fantastic thirst-quencher. (Way to go, Dairy Month!)

On the way home, the boss said, "Wanna go up around the loop?"

We haven't been up on the loop (Ingersoll, Argersinger, Borden, and home....lots of ponds and tundra-like fields...home to many awesome birds) much lately. Gas prices have nibbled and gnawed away our ability to travel until even the close places in the Schoharie Crossing park are too far most days.

Black Locust

Anyhow, I agreed and we went. It was hard dusk. We could hear a few daytime birds, sleepy robins, a late catbird or two, but not much else. Certainly too late for shorebirds at the ponds.

However, we both had an instinctive feeling that maybe we should go down Borden Road, so we did. No more than had we made the turn when there he was, sitting proud atop a power pole in all his fierce and predatory glory....a Great-horned Owl...first of the year.

Delightful, especially since we missed an actual, real live, confirmed Red-headed Woodpecker earlier in the day. We have seen photos....now to see the bird....

And about those roses. COVID left me with about 10 percent of my normal ability to smell things. The things I could smell were wrong somehow. Frankly it stank and not in a good way.

However gradually I have become able to smell this or that. Usually bad things, but, hey, better than nothing, right?

Oddly I could smell the honeysuckle this summer, which I never noticed before. However, the lilies of the valley that my cousin gave me last year that remind me so much of Grandma Montgomery? 

A disappointing nope.

I despaired for the riverbank grape flowers, my favorite scent in the world. What were the odds I could smell them this year? Imagine my joy when the first whiff wafted in through the car windows last week. Not as strong as usual, but there.

Thank you Lord! It's the little things

Soon, probably next week or the week after, the wild, invasive, horrible-pest-the-rest-of-the-year wild roses will flaunt their flagrant white wedding veils and swamp the valley with their scent of sweet old ladies' purses*. Will I be aware of the latter? Only time will tell.

Fledgling American Robin

*One of my grandmas must have used rose-scented eau de toilet and kept a fragrant hanky in her purse...grandmas did back then, you know. Anyhow rose time always reminds me of both of them. Those same purses usually contained Chiclets, or some other wonderful, exotic treats, so as to placate whining grandchildren. Ah, the fond memories of it all....sucking the hard sweet coating off the Chiclets, then chewing the concrete-hard nugget of gum inside until your teeth whined worse than you did.

Best bird last week,
although not the best picture
Brant

We will Remember Them

 

If You See

 This fine young lady today, wish her a very Happy Birthday, please.

If gift ideas are a problem, she wears any size from Junior Heifer Calf to Aged Cow Class and anything in between.

Her favorite colors are Holstein, Jersey, or Milking Shorthorn, but Swiss or Ayrshire will do if supplies are low.

Love you Liz, hope you have a great day!