Happy Birthday, Liz

 

Horse whisperer, cow whisperer, dog whisperer as well. Hope you have a wonderful day.

Much love from Mom and Dad

Radar Ralph

 

One of these days I'll learn.

Last night was not the first time he took me to good birds just on instinct. He is, by the way, not a birder. He likes to drive and talk while I chase them, but they are not his thing at all. However, when he asks to go somewhere, I should just go no questions asked....ask me sometime about the Barnacle Goose we almost missed.

Anyhow, I didn't want to go anywhere yesterday. It was hot and sunny and the garden and string trimmer beckoned. By the time I had all but the last two houseplants downstairs and outdoors and most of the area around the garden pond at least partly tidied up, I was done.

I parked in my chair and contemplated suppertime.

He was restless, wandering around looking pointedly in my direction.

Finally he said, "You want to go out and look for those birds they've been seeing out at the horse farm?"

Yeah, okay, dangle an Upland Sandpiper over my head and I am just like a field dog when it smells a pheasant.

Off we went. We drove by the horse farm, which by the way is now a cow farm, and saw nothing. He drove up to Buel Road to turn around for another pass.  As we went along looking for a safe spot to do so, he exclaimed, "I've got to get you back there! By the Killdeer!"

I was in a hurry to get back to the horse farm for the Uppies, and was not excited by a Killdeer. However, he quickly executed a 180 and "got me back there"... to a tiny, shallow sheet of shining water near where they are building a new highway department. it was just a bit of a dip where they had scooped up dirt for something.

Sure enough there was a Killdeer. 

There were also eleven...count em!...eleven Least Sandpipers. We have been going to the boat launch for weeks trying to find some before they have migrated past, with no luck at all.

Yet there they were, way out in Buel, darting around in that tiny pool. I was delighted, to say the least, and wore down the camera battery taking photos. There was also a charming little Killdeer chick, plus some Barn Swallows, etc.

Next we went back down by the horse cow farm and caught a fleeting, but adequate, glimpse of an Upland Sandpiper.

A new family lives and runs beef there, and we are going to be very sparing in visits to their roadside. They are really nice and accommodating, but they have friendly small children and I don't want to chance luring them out in the road wanting to chat or wear out our welcome parking and peering from the roadside.

Anyhow, someday I will learn that when Radar Ralph says, "Let's go", there are birds awaiting  and I had better get going.

Century Run

Common Grackle with a dragonfly

This year's event is in the books. I thought I would share with you the report I submitted on it. I had a great time birding and the blackflies had a great time gnawing on me.

2024 Fulton-Montgomery County

Over the course of sixteen hours, starting at 4AM, traveling two-hundred-and-four miles in Fulton and Montgomery Counties, our team found 103 species of birds. Participating were George Steele and myself, Marianne Friers.

Our day began when George picked me up at 4. We headed south through Glen, Charleston, Esperance, Sprakers, and the surrounding area for owls and other early birds. Although Barred Owls were the only owls we found, American Woodcocks and Wilson’s Snipe were calling and displaying. Even in the darkness, each swampy area featured groups of Tree Swallows twittering from their dead tree roosts. At first they sounded like amphibians and since we are both familiar with the locals we were puzzled, but figured it out quickly.

Dawn chorus was a delight at one of my favorite spots, Rankin Grove, where mixed forest meets extensive marshy areas. It was hard to count the number of Veerys calling from as near as the other side of the road.

Habitat!

Later we traveled toward Amsterdam and nearby productive spots, up through Johnstown and Gloversville to Fulton County’s lakes and wetlands, ending the day at Cline Road Marsh (where I can testify that the blackflies were quite active.)

There we heard a loud bird calling from inside the phragmites that we didn’t recognize. Its calls were so brief and sporadic that Merlin couldn’t get it and it didn’t show itself. After listening to multiple recordings of all the suspects I could think of the next day, I concluded that it was probably a Sora, but we didn’t count it. I hope to return soon to try again to id it.

For me the highlight of the trip, (besides the opportunity to spend the entire day birding) was a Bufflehead in Peck’s Lake. My cousin had been reporting it from her camp there, but the chance that we would find it immediately in that great big lake, seemed slim at best. However, as soon as George set up his scope he was on it, right across the lake from the marina. From what I was able to research it is probably a young male. It was diving and resting between cabins one and two.

Notable absences were Brown Thrasher and Hermit Thrush.

Spotted Sandpiper

Happy Mother's Day

 

To all the mothers everywhere. I read that some huge percentage of grown children who buy their first homes set as the most important criterion in choosing a location being close to mom. I agree.

Happy Mother's Day to my own Mommy Owdice who is undoubtedly in Heaven, even if only for putting up with me all those years. That, btw, is what I called her after having been chastised for calling her Alice. (After all, that is what the grownups called her.) After scolding my tiny self, she said I must call her Mommy. Ever one to get my way by hook or by crook, Mommy Owdice it was. (I pronounce things a bit better now, but not much.)

Also to my daughter, Liz, and daughters-in-law (and in heart), Jen and Amber. Thanks for all those lovely grandbabies, who range from tiny and cute to nearly as tall as I and fierce as  small tigers. They are a bright, sassy, bunch and we love them all madly.

To the aunties, too many in Heaven, but a special few still with us, who were moms to me when I needed them and still are...I can't call Mommy Owdice up there near the throne among the clouds, but I can call you when I'm lonesome...and thanks.

And to my sisters-in-law.....I got me some good 'uns!

My own Mother's Day started with rain...no aurora here...and dropping a log on my foot. Fortunately, I wore my boots and lucky bathrobe out to fill the stove so no harm done. It also started with glowing dog's eyes piercing the night and a sleepy Song Sparrow muttering a half-hearted song when the light from my headlamp glanced across the lilac bushes.

All in all, everything I could ask for.

"For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well."

I hope you all have a fine day with special family, coffee and toast in bed if that's your thing, and love, lots and lots and lots of love.

Have a good one.

Spring Things

Spring means Mack can be out in his run most days and he is a happier dog for it.

It means grubbing mugwort out of everything, everywhere. Stuff is a curse.

 I get to lug all the geraniums I grew from seed last spring down from the empty bedroom to the east and out to the porch and yard. A tedious chore for sure, but I can't wait.

Spring means ducks in trees
Cavity nesting Wood Ducks in search of a hollow tree

Female Common Mergansers perusing the housing market too

It means singing, long, loud, lovely songs from every corner of the farm and yard. All week we have had at least four Wood Thrushes fluting from the corners of the nearby fields and up on the hill as well. Until yesterday the hill roads were dry enough I could hike up there without gathering giant balls of clay on my boots until I walked like Frankenstein. That situation will probably be a while in returning after the weekend downpours.

Spring is the invasive weeds that I deliberately cultivate in the yard coming into stunning bloom for the early pollinators and hummingbirds....which are back in small numbers btw.

I love Deadnettle...so subtly elegant in shape and shading.

Speedwell, the daintiest of delicate, rich, pale blues.

A couple of sorts of forget-me-nots shining in the corners. Stuff like that. I let hem grow where I want them and chop them out where I don't. They are a whole lot easier to control than mugwort. Lord, how I hate that stuff.

A pretty Palm Warbler, just passing through

A mild winter allowed the herbs to winter well and I am grateful. It was a wonderful thing to be preparing the meats and cabbage for golumpki casserole yesterday (I make up the basics and Becky constructs the final product...) and to be able to go outside and clip herbs for seasoning.

Traffic

Even the giant hyssop came up from the roots and is already several inches tall and thriving. Normally it may reseed, but this makes for a much better start.

Anyhow, as I sit here in the living room waiting for it to be time for everyone to start their day, I hear a House Wren right outside the window, a Tufted Titmouse whoo-whooing from the dying ash in front of the house and see the robins shuttling worms to the nestlings on the porch.

I have blackfly bites all over my head from standing still in a little marsh listening to a Barred Owl's inquiries in the distance, but Spring makes it all worth it.

Song Sparrow

Holding Out

I'm holding out and holding on for Saturday. Supposed to go on some kind of bird thing  with a friend and I am hoping I get to do so.

The week impending is full of visits to practitioners of the medical arts and working to understand which guy will be doing what thing in conjunction with which other guy doing some other thing. Also when.

It has come to my attention that if I am not involved nobody communicates with anybody else and nobody understands anything. Thus even though I have the worst case of white coat fever on this or any other planet, I am going to have to get these guys talking to one another and talk to most of them myself.

So I am holding out for birds, before, after, and between. They don't  often fail to redirect my mind when it derails as it does, over and over again. The tracks are not something I seem to comprehend these days.

Hope you have a great week. Thanks for reading.

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.

Gothic Horror Story

 

The sky was threatening. Gloomy, hung over with bulging yellow and grey clouds, pregnant with the promise of fear. She was alone with a grandkid and the dogs in the big gothic spooky house. A storm was incoming. 

She ventured out to the back porch to look east and south.

A thick cable of blackness dangled from the sky like a snaking tentacle, looming close, and coming closer.

She raced inside, screaming for the grandchild to get to the cellar. Grab a blanket. Be quick.

Down the crumbling wooden stair they went, to sit at the bottom clutching the dull red sleeping bag the child had chosen.

But, no! The dogs. They were in the kitchen in their crates.

Stay, small one, stay while I go.

Leash on the white one, where is the grey?

Back down to the kiddo to find the white one tied to a cluster of Easter ribbons and the grey one replaced by a small stuffed toy dog. Weird.

Go back for the grey.

Too late.

The cellar windows were man-high, laid-up stone tunnels reaching out from the cellar to shallow, root and vine-grown trenches in the ground. Through the frame of dangling vines and roots they could see blackness coming and the horrible mouth of the thing open and sucking.

She tried to call 911 but the phone only showed video games in violent reds and purples. No key pad. No contacts list. Though she had memorized the sheriff's phone number a long time ago there was no way to call them.

She tried the small one's phone but it was the same.

The mouth of the maelstrom hovered outside one of the window tunnels, howling in rage.

Then, just like that, it was gone and the house still stood.

Next strangers came, strolling through the cellar, lying down on platforms of boards, looking into nooks and corners. She tried everything to make them leave, even hitting them and dumping water on them. They would not go and more and more of them stumbled down to join the peering throng.

Then I woke up.

 And thought, "Holy crap! That was the most vivid and realistic dream I have ever had!!" Weirdest too and I've had some doozies. 

A lot of stuff going on around here and I guess I am realizing that there are things I can't control, no matter how much of an excessively controlling person I am.

But, man, oh, man, I wish I could bottle my imagination...it's got to be worth something. LOL

The Cats

 

Are rearranging the furniture again.

I don't know how they do it...or why

But you can hear them at it.

Early morning pills and bills

Dogs for walking

Wrens are talking.

Just another winter day 

Cold bright sunrise 

Cold dull routine.

But, wait, what light through yonder window breaks?

Migration is starting...

Yeah, it is!

Yesterday a Wood Duck

Tuesday a Great Blue Heron.

Who knows what today might bring?

Anticipation is the spice of everything!

Five Bald Eagles in one spot

Encounter

While not much else is going right, birding has been awesome lately. Finding Short-eared Owls has been one great treat, but today it was Bald Eagles.

Short-eared Owl

There was one sitting on a log in the pool at the boat launch today. Although I tried for a photo, something unseen blew all the ducks off the Schoharie and spooked him too, just as I aimed.

He flew over to the tree at the confluence, where eagles often perch. Then he landed by the pool and strutted around for a bit. I think he may have left prey near the log, as his crop looked full.

Back to the tree he went. 

Suddenly another one bombed in (probably what scared the ducks) and started going after him in the tree. A third came after that one and the two of them flew over to land in a tree near the aqueduct.

Sure was fun to watch them until they all flew off.

The ducks, however, were not impressed.