Camp Week

 

Common Yellowthroat at Benham Marsh

Was a mixed bag. Birding was phenomenal with 84 eventual species, a couple of great outings, one  with my BBB, Kris Harshman, and one with my favorite middle offspring, Becky.

Immature Green Heron at Cline Road Marsh

There were also the stairs from HELL.

Driveway of the same origin. It gave anything without topnotch four-wheel-drive that awful sinking feeling.

Neighbors about whom I will make no further comment.

Nearly perfect weather.

Sunrises to inspire poets to great flights of fancy.

Common Loons. One night they purred and chortled and chuckled and hooted all night long. It was a great delight to half-awaken to hear their secret conversations, then to drift off to dream of wild places remote from the real.

Car trouble, which put an end to the fun birding excursions.

Awful photo of a Canada Warbler

Canada Warblers.

Red crossbills.

Bonaparte's Gulls.

Broad-winged Hawk

We decided not to renew our reservation for next year unless they can get us into a north shore cabin with no HELL stairs. Becky and I both fell off them more than once. I am getting too old for that kind of sport. It made me sad though. We have been enjoying the lake since I was five or six...or possibly even younger, so it is a significant part of our family culture. I hope we can get into a safer, quieter cabin. Otherwise we will have to find something else to do.

Been debating whether this is a pure American
Black Duck or if there is some Mallard there. Lots of mutts on the
lake

Anyhow, back home now with the laundry all caught up and the garden beginning to give up its goodies for our suppers...fresh green beans last night with homegrown garlic and herbs and store-bought carrots and celery.

Sure good.

Many thanks to Becky for making camp possible and being the best of companions, to Ralph for taking care of our doggo and keeping the porch plants thriving...those hanging baskets can be a PIA...and to Kris for the crossbills and a really fun afternoon in the mountains. Also for super helpful camera tips, which upped my game immensely.

Grebes are Weird

A cheeky wee Pied-billed Grebe, thinking that
he is keeping his secrets from you

 I accidentally stumbled upon the fact that Western Grebe chicks have a yellow or grayish bare spot on their heads that turns bright red when they hungry and beg for food. It goes back to its normal color when crops are full.

The chicks are brooded on their parents' backs and fed there as well, rather than in the nest, which is mostly abandoned when they hatch. When one parent gets tired of "back brooding" it rises up in the water to dump the kids in the drink. They are able to swim to the other parent, which sometimes is generous enough to stick out a foot for them to use as a step to get aboard.

The parents feed feathers to the chicks right from the start.

Yum

The kids poop when they hit the water. Thus Mom and Dad flap their wings and dump them in the drink quite frequently. Can't say as I blame them. Beats changing diapers.

Red-necked Grebes on the mighty Mohawk

Late in the parenting sequence the adults often split the family and each take a portion off to feed. They get back together later. Maybe. 

I have never seen a Western Grebe and probably never will, but their sheer weirdness is a delight to me.

Which brings me to Pied-billed Grebes, which are not uncommon around here, and which I do see reasonably regularly and hear even more often. If you experience background sounds out in the marsh that make you think you are suddenly inside a Tarzan movie, there's a good chance it's Pied-billed Grebe. 

They are odd too. It is not abnormal for them to lay eggs into a cup in their nest platform that is barely at water level. Sometimes they are even laid in a puddle of water. Eggs don't care; they have a special coating. The parents gradually build the nest up and by the time they hatch the cup is no longer quite as wet.

Parents cover the incubating eggs with plant matter when they leave the nest and often stay away for prolonged periods, relying on the heat of decaying vegetation to keep the eggs warm (alligators anyone?)

My vocabulary word when reading about grebes is nidifugous. It means the little guys leave the nest soon after hatching. Once again they are back brooded. (If anyone knows how to pronounce it give me a call. I Googled it and found at least five entries on the first page...every single one of them was different. So I still don't know...)

Well-grown grebe chick

Anyhow, I love grebes. 

I have seen three species, Pied-billed, Red-Necked, and Horned. However, I have never been in a position to personally observe their babysitting (or maybe I should say baby dumping) behavior, so this information was obtained from Cornell's excellent resource, Birds of the World, which I highly recommend. It is like a college course that you study at your own speed, directed by your own interests. Personally, if I see an intriguing behavior or just wonder where a species migrates, or nests, or what they eat, or odd ways they care for chicks, I check it out. I even have a shortcut on my phone so I can learn in the field. 

You never know. I might learn useful new words like nidifugous, which might help me sound intelligent in birdy company, if only I could pronounce it.

Bye

Into the Wild

Scarlet Tanager

The boss and I adventure around the county on an almost daily basis. Early mornings often find us at our favorite birding hotspots, both official and personal. Yesterday though, we hit a trail...or I did while he waited...that we only visit a couple of times a year. This is not because it isn't birdy; I had a dozen species before I left the parking lot.

It's because it's wild. And also because I forget it is there even though two of our other favorite spots, the Schoharie Reserve and Sara Lib Road are right next to it.

Lost Valley State Forest...it lives up to its name. The road dead ends in a sort of a circular parking lot and a somewhat road-like trail leads out of same. The bugs are eager and able. Just in case you wondered, Blackfly season, which normally ends in July, is not over yet. Just breathe and they are your friends for life. They revel in the taste of Skin-so-Soft, and Repel, which are my insect deterrents of choice. They also revel in the taste of...me...but that's another story.

Chestnut-sided Warbler

We had a go at LVSF on my birthday. Alas the holiday had the woods full of the sounds of racing engines and general mayhem. I mean it sounded like a chainsaw convention in there, although I believe the noises were off-road vehicular, so I walked a few yards into the wild...not your usual woodland wild, but plenty wild all the same...and then retreated to the car.

Yesterday it was quiet except for bird song and the hungry whine of attacking insects. I thought casually to myself, as I have been considering black bears lately on my hikes, that this would be a good spot to encounter one. Lo and behold I immediately came upon some great big, very plain and clear tracks, right across I puddle I was muddling around. Then I noticed the scat. The track was fresh, the scat was probably from last fall...not much left but wads of reddish deer hair. It was well distributed though.

I am no expert. This could have come from a large coyote but...

These didn't

 

We don't visit LVSF during any of the hunting seasons because that seems just plain foolish.

Anyhow, I thought about chickening out and going back to the car, but I quickly noped that idea. There were birds all around, singing even this late in the breeding season, and I wanted to be out there counting, and hopefully photographing them.

Red-eyed Vireo

To cut to the chase, if there was a bear around it didn't want to see me any more than I wanted to see it. Scarlet Tanagers were another story. I encountered at least six, singing all around me. Their raspy calls were so ubiquitous that they became background noise. Then almost at the end of the trail I encountered a whole family, a ridiculously vibrant red-and-black male and a mess of greenish yellow young uns. They obligingly paused in a snag while i grabbed some photos with my new camera.

Eastern Wood Pewee

I ended up with 29 species, not a great number compared to spring when the warblers are passing through but not terrible for July. I made close acquaintance with the mosquitoes of the shade and the deerflies of the sunlight, as well as a lifetime supply of Common Yellowthroats, Veerys, and tons of other fun birds. I don't think they are birded much, as just a little bit of pishing brought them right out to scold me. List here. It's a fun place to hike if you are not an utter coward (like I usually am) and there is the added bonus of nice red raspberries here and there. 

Yard birding is becoming interesting again. Apparently the dispersion of birds from their nesting sites has begun and both a singing Eastern Towhee and a frantically foraging Blue-winged Warbler hit the yard yesterday. Today it began to rain just as I passed the front porch door this morning, so most likely we will not seek any excursions into the wild...maybe tomorrow. Have a great weekend.

Baby Bird Assembly Line

Teenaged Common Grackle, like any kid, they're always hungry.
At least he isn't asking to borrow the car keys.

I think we have one in our yard.

So far this season I have seen fledglings of at least 13 species, House Finch, American Robin, Blue Jay, Tufted Titmouse, Baltimore Oriole, Northern Cardinal, Eastern Phoebe, European Starling, Common Grackle, Downy Woodpecker, White-breasted Nuthatch, Grey Catbird, and Yellow Warbler.

Baltimore Oriole fledgling bugging dad for bugs
 in the mulberry tree.

I am sure there have been more that I missed or forgot, and the Red-eyed Vireo has taken to singing from hours from the top of our poor old Ash tree, which finally succumbed to the borer, so he will probably be raising kids soon. 

It makes for a noisy, busy, yard, particularly when they are teaching the babies to use the feeders...especially when you add the little foxes and Ralph's traveling chipmunk show.

Lots of fun!

Take a Break

 

Portents

 

Sky a tumble of thunder, slashed by lightning like angry beast claws this morning. It woke me quarter to four AM, thus out to walk the dog in the fragile darkness that broke so easily under the storm.

No sojourn in his 10X10 concrete-floored, Dogloo full of straw, with a big bucket of clean water equipped run for old Mack this morning. There was another episode of the mutt vs marmot unrest last night. At this point the score stands at Mack 2, marmota monax 0.

Which is fine I guess, although I had to figure out how the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks the damned things were getting through the chain link. Not hard to see once I went out with the big light. Over the past few days something has dug the wire support up off the floor on one whole side of the run. Thus, the dog is inside the house for the day and big repairs are in order. Since the run was built for Mike the Border Collie GOAT of my life, way BITD, I guess I can't complain, but dang!!! I hate a woodchuck anyhow.

I was cleaning up a weedy patch, digging out some old half barrel flower bed thingies, and generally nicening up the yard the other day and found where they had burrowed under them. This was about three feet from the nearest tomato plant and a few yards from the beans and lettuce. Opportunism at its finest. I filled the hole with rocks and cleared everything around it so it is no longer hidden, but dang!, just dang! And now they have taken their show up the hill to my poor old dog's run.

The storm has broken, it's raining, lightly, at least, not the torrents that usually accompany thunder storms. However, the trip to the Burbine forest I was contemplating for dawn or so is out of the question and probably not much other than reading the news and discussing same will get done today. First robins are chattering along the driveway and there is some sort of light to the Northeast of us. Sunrise maybe I guess, could be. Have a good one and keep your batteries charged and your pantries stocked. The dog  and rodent follies aren't the only show in town these days.

Surprise!

Somewhat blurry Common Gallinule chick

The first thing on your dance card today is adventure and it's gonna last all day.

I had no idea yesterday when we set out to take Liz to work and buy a spark plug for the John Deere weed eater, that retirement could be so exciting. At the sparking plug store the guy told Ralph he would have to come back in a couple of hours as the plug was in another town but they would get it.

Mama COGA

I was not pleased and made my feelings known. I envisioned hours of boredom in the other end of the county waiting for something that was far from an emergency. In case you didn't know it, I am a terribly grumpy person and don't do patience well.

Female Red-winged Blackbird carrying food to the kiddos

The boss dangled a visit to Cline Rd. Marsh in front of my snapping and snarling countenance and I somewhat reluctantly found myself appeased.

We proceeded to Oppenheim and I was strapping on my gear when a bird appeared in the middle of the road. A Common Gallinule! I have been trying all spring to get a photo of one, as we had heard them almost every single visit. And there she was. I grabbed some shots and looked back down to buckle up bins and sling on the camera.

"Chicks!" the boss exclaimed. And there were, FIVE of them! They scuttled across the road behind mama and I grabbed some blurry shots. I was pretty sure that I had heard chicks among the phragmites last week and here was proof that gallinules are breeding on the marsh.

Exciting!

Also quite startling was this large Northern Water Snake

I spotted what looked like a loop of rubber hose among the rushes
but it turned out to be this guy.

Also exciting were the 39 other species I encountered in the next hour and six minutes. The marsh was alive with song and flight. I regretted my grump intensely...as usual.

Green Heron

I was just finishing up...standing beside the car chatting to the boss with my back to him while I tried to record the gallinules when he exclaimed again.

Da Bear vanishing into the woods
right by Donnie and Hope's house!

"A bear! A bear! A bear!" He could barely get the words out.

I spun around and tried to get a photo but ursus wasn't picking any daisies. Five minutes before I had been standing right where that bear was!

We packed up and took the tour around the loop road where we encountered some furious Swamp Sparrows guarding a nest and a Mourning Warbler, a first in the county for me.

Then we returned home for a relatively peaceful rest of the day...

Until just the edge of dark, which comes pretty late these days. 

I went out to bring Mack down from his kennel for his dinner. As usual it takes a really swift grab to get the leash on his collar and I almost missed him. He was really excited. Since something has been drinking all the water out of his bucket every night, I turned to latch the door back closed. There was.....something....gazing up at me from the concrete floor of his run.

I put the light on it. A very dead, utterly disemboweled, woodchuck. He is a terrier. It's what they do. It wasn't a pup either. (Neither is he! He's 11, all grey in the face and looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth but he has the terrier instinct and it isn't hard to trigger.) It made a hefty load in the shovel when I took care of the mess after I took the dog down to the house for his dinner...because I may be a grump but I don't whine for a guy to deal with things like that even though it sure was a nasty mess.

Anyhow, from daylight to no light yesterday was quite a day. I am ready for some quiet today....maybe...

And that's one woodchuck that won't be eating my beans and lettuce this year.

TBRaC

If you are a reader...I mean, a serious reader who absolutely cannot leave home without a book...or even two (sure is handy having thousands right there on your phone)...you know that TBR means to be read.

Of course I have a TBR list on the phone. And I belong to an ARC group (that's Advance Reader Copy) wherefrom I get books to read just for the price of reviewing them. Some of them are truly terrible and get DNFed (that's did not finish-life is too short to read bad books.) However, I have stumbled upon some real gems and found some awesome new authors in that manner. 

However, I have an extra-special TBR pile. It is of actual books printed on paper and bound in covers and all that stuff. Digital and audio books are convenient for modern life...the phone goes where I go and so does the library. However, some truly extraordinary volumes are not available in e form (or alternately, I just don't want to buy them again, when I already own them.) Thus the TBRaC pile.

To Be Read at Camp. 

At camp I can lounge around with a good book with no need to get into a car to go anywhere or to cook if I don't want to, or do laundry, or walk the dog, etc. Reading at camp is gleefully stationary.

Thus The Sanctuary Sparrow, by Ellis Peters, The Chain of Destiny by Berry Neels, Lassie, Come Home, by Eric Knight, The Rising of the Lark, by Ann Moray, and Spindrift, by John J. Rowland in actual corporeal form, are piled by my chair, awaiting packing for our annual foray into the  Adirondacks for a week of birds, books, and bliss. I am sure others will join the pile, including The Horsemasters, by Donald S. Sanford, which Becky just purchased for me. I actually have the copy I bought from Scholastic Books back when I saved my 25-cent lunch money to buy books from the book club list they handed out in school. It is too battered by hundreds of readings to survive a trip to the woods. 

TBRaC, what a wonderful concept. 

Ooh, Becky just found me another Ellis Peters book to add to the pile!

Forty Years Ago Today

We grabbed a couple of our dearest friends and headed off to the JP. He must have done something right because we are still best friends and life companions. Happy Anniversary Ralphie.  (That's not some weird pagan dance up there...we were moving the bird feeders and Becky grabbed an unauthorized photo. So I stole it right back from her.)

Happy Birthday

 To this little one! What a cutie!

NotaBird

Group birding is peopled with folks peering at things in trees, only to announce, "it's notabiird."

It might be a nest of web spinning caterpillars or an errant plastic bag, dead leaves, the tip of a moldering snag, squirrel, opening showing a bit of sky, or any number of other foolers, but simply, notabird. 

Here are a few notabird photos I have taken on recent field trips.

Happy Father's Day in Heaven

 

Happy Father's Day

 

To all these fine men.