Two CBCs

 

Red-tailed Hawk from Count One

Over the past four days I was privileged to participate in two Christmas Bird Counts. The first was in an area that was partly small town/suburban and partly the rural borders thereof. We saw the usual suspects expected in such an environment and had a good time looking for them.

Then yesterday I had the opportunity to be a small part of the Montezuma National Wildlife count circle. That was exciting! I have always wanted to see the refuge in winter, and although it was something of a November-like day (and no complaints from me about that!) it was still quite different from the busy days of summer. I got all ten-thousand steps in one wandering bird walk.

My favorite memories include the sound of Trumpeter Swans winging their muscular way through the air right over our heads, bugling unmistakable and hair-raising calls, as if rallying the world to follow. They are BIG birds and impressive indeed.

Red-tailed Hawk Count Two

And of skeins of Snow Geese stretching from horizon to horizon, their calls sharper and more piercing than the lower pitched honks of the Canada Geese. They seemed to go on forever, and I was pretty happy that they were outside our bit of the circle so we didn't have to count them all.

Sandhill Cranes

Best of all was the flock of 27 Sandhill Cranes on the way back to the compilation. I may or may not have exclaimed like a little kid and fan-girled over the sight like same. Cranes always make my day! There were huge numbers reported count week, which I found downright pleasing. Maybe over the next few years they will nudge their boundaries our way and we won't have to drive two hours to see them.

The Bridge of Dread

Least favorite memory...climbing through the gates on the derelict bridge we needed to cross. There was a time in my life when I would have scampered over or through without a single thought. This is not that time. Besides being older than dirt and build for comfort not for speed, I was wearing four shirts and my father's huge, thick, Carhartt hoodie. I got through all right going in but had an awful...and embarrassing...time on the way out. Just call me not nimble.

I am hoping to be involved in three more counts in the coming weeks. Let's hold good thoughts for favorable weather and wider gates where that situation applies.

Oh, and Cheerios and dried cherries are good trip food. Their are a lot of them, and although they are reasonably satisfying, there is no urge to devour them all at a sitting.

Also vegan spicy sweet potato/black bean chili is really good. Hot but tasty.

The Year in Birds (Part Two) Lifers

Red-headed Woodpecker

 Seven new birds for me this year, two more than last year. Some of them were relatively common and at least one not really a lifer as they were nearly ubiquitous when I was younger, but new to my eBird list.

 

1) Last winter saw daily reports of a Tufted Duck being observed in Saratoga Lake. It took several March trips with Ralph and my good friend Kris, but we finally got to see it among a huge number of scaup and other winter ducks. Thanks to you both for getting me there, and Kris for helping me get on it.

2) Next, also in March, was the Red-headed Woodpecker. Kris and I did a Montezuma run and met a pleasant gentleman who seemed quite knowledgeable about local birding. We asked him if he could direct us to it, he did, and the rest is history. This is the faux lifer. Up until I was in college they were the default woodpecker around here, and common even in the city. Then they vanished. Thanks, Kris for this one.

Common Tern

3) Third was a Common Tern spotted at the Schoharie Crossing boat launch, probably my favorite local birding site. I found him myself one cold and windy day in May.

4) In June I happened on a couple of Least Bitterns calling from a nearby marsh. Heard only, but that counts on eBird. Also self found.

Glossy Ibis

5) In August Ralph took me on another Montezuma run. We were almost done with the wildlife drive when I saw a lot of people staring into the cattails at a small marsh. I peered through my bins for a bit and spotted a little brown bird skulking through the shrubbery, a Glossy Ibis! Yay! Thanks, Ralph, and the nice birder who helped me know which ibis it was.

6) A pair of American Golden Plovers made my life list in Maine in October. This is a species I never expected to see and it was pretty darned thrilling for me. Another self found flyer, but many thanks to Ralph and Becky for being so patient about the hours I spend hiking beaches and marshes and woods and fields. Also thanks to Matt and family for making the trip so much easier.

7) I have told you before about the Ross's Goose chase. I spend a lot of time peering at geese, taking photos of geese and peering at same, and pondering geese and goose species. I think there are more Cackling Geese than we realize among the Canadas, some years it's easy...ish... to find a Greater White-fronted Goose committing vagrancy among the flocks, and once a top-notch birder I know put us on a Barnacle Goose. However, the Ross's was a big thrill and still delights me.

And there you have it, my year in lifers. I am downright pleased with these birds, but I am still out there looking for more, every chance I get. Just greedy I guess.

Not a lifer, but my favorite bird
Carolina Wren

The Year in Birds (Part One) NYBBA lll

Wilson's Snipe (H Appropriate Habitat)

Over the course of the past five years I have been privileged to participate in the third New York Breeding Bird Atlas. It was the first atlas for me and will undoubtedly be the last as well. Atlases take place every twenty years. When the next one rolls around, should I, by some strange and unlikely miracle, still be standing up and taking nourishment, I would be ninety-two. Pretty much of a nope.

House Wren in the act of fledging
(NY Nest with Young)

I loved doing the atlas and will continue to code breeding bird activity going forward. Thanks to it, I learned a lot about bird behavior, which added a rich new dimension to my favorite outdoor pastime.

I saw a Bald Eagle rebuilding after losing a known nest in a storm last spring. It was jumping up and down on a branch like a kid with a new trampoline. When the branch finally broke it carried it off to a new nest structure, much smaller and less ambitious than the many-years-old original. I don't know if there were new eggs, as timing would indicate that the downfall of the old nest took eggs too, but I can hope.

Through closer than previous observation and a little more detective work than we might have bothered with before the atlas, a friend and I discovered a brand new Bald Eagle nest adjacent to one of my favorite birding spots (I used to call it Snipe Central). Alas I don't know if this pair had success either, but it was fun to watch them.

Red-tailed Hawk ( P Pair in Suitable Habitat)

It was the same with many other species. I learned to watch more closely and to bird much more intensively, as I tried to help finish priority blocks.

I am most grateful to the people running things who took time to email corrections when I was wrong, thanks when I got something done, and suggestions for new places to bird. Also to people I was able to join on atlasing trips, who know a lot more than I do.

Thanks to atlasing while at camp I found one of the best birding spots I know of, where it was nothing to find thirty or forty nice species and to witness all kinds of breeding behavior in an hour or two. I cannot wait to get back there...if the road is passable...next spring in warbler time!

I am going to miss working on the atlas though. It brought me in contact with many birders I otherwise wouldn't have encountered and was a lot of fun besides.

Killdeer (C Courtship, Display, or Copulation)
(Get a room!)

Therapy

 I partook of a free therapy session yesterday, as the boss was sleeping in. Two days a week I take Becky down to open the store at five AM and my chores are soon done, leaving some blank spaces in what passes for my schedule.

I really want a Christmas tree this year so I picked out a beauty a few weeks ago when Alan took me touring the hills and creeks on the place in his bright red Jeep.

He was going to get it for me over the holiday but what with babies and hunting and eating turkey and all (which he and Amber raised and donated to the cause....I cooked it in my roaster, breast down, in a quart of chicken stock Becky and I made last summer...Yum!) the tree didn't get harvested.

I've been trying to explain to the boss just where it is so he can take the skid steer up and get it for me, but it is not easy to describe a single tree in a forest of same. Thus I grabbed a roll of surveyors' tape and my bins and camera and headed out on the hills to tag my prey.

It was a slippery climb, with the snow crusted to ice and the rough and rocky trail, but the Jeep tracks from holiday hunts got me to the top of the 30-acre Lot safely. From there I contemplated the lack of a path up to Seven-County Hill where the wild pines and Ruffed Grouse grow.

And noped my plans right there on the spot. No Jeep tracks, just sharp crusty snow, chest-high brush, and a mini mountain to climb. I really wanted to tag that darned tree, but if you don't respect your age and abilities you will wish you had. It was enough of a fool's errand climbing the front hill in winter without goating up the big hill.

I opted for a hike over to the deer blind and some time sitting on the ladder of same enjoying the company of an assortment of birds. It was peaceful up there despite the traffic noise and trains. I think I heard a Winter Wren check-checking from the bushes but Merlin couldn't hear him and I couldn't pish him out. Even without counting him the trip netted me 21 species, not bad for a winter walk just on our own place.

I came down....walking very gingerly...much refreshed and in a better frame of mind than when I started....despite the pine tree fail. You can't put a price on time outdoors....because it's priceless after all.

Betrayal of Trust

While I walked my ten over the past several days, I listened to the audio book of the same title, written by J. A. Jance, who just happens to be my favorite author.

I had read the eBook earlier, soon after it first came out. Becky keeps me in music and books to read or listen to and I thank her for it.

Upon first reading, as is normal for a shameless speed reader such as myself, I devoured the main plot, a tale of cold cases, a serial killer, and family betrayals. It is a great story and I highly recommend it.

However, audio books cannot be speed read. You have to listen to every word and take in every nuance. I realized that intentionally or not, another betrayal was laid out for readers, and it was one that affected my family personally and painfully.

I am talking about the main news story of the period when we were all forced to comply with separation regulations unheard of and unimagined in history as we knew it. The COVID shutdowns.

Reaction to the virus by people in power tore our family apart.. literally...and left us with grief and feelings of guilt that will probably never go away.

Mom and Dad married as kids. I was born when Mom was 19 and the boys followed at intervals thereafter. I kind of grew up with the folks. They stayed together through all kinds of trials and joys and ended up as halves of a powerfully loving whole. 

Sometimes I would arrive to visit, Mom would greet me at the door, and we would sit down at the dining room table for coffee. Dad might be upstairs and, being profoundly deaf, would not know I was there. He would randomly holler down the stairs, “I love you.” Mom would holler back up, “I love you.”

It was just something they did to keep in touch…to stay close…even when they were separated.

Because otherwise, they never were, apart that is. During each of their several hospitalizations over the years, at least they could visit one another, but otherwise they lived their lives as close as two people can be. I was always somewhat in awe of that, as it takes a lot of giving to share yourself that way.

Then came the disease and the betrayal too. Mom was suddenly hospitalized for an unrelated medical issue. Dad could not cope without her there. I moved in, but diffident, timid, soul that I am, I was a terrible substitute. Things didn’t go well, and I convinced him to be taken to the hospital for evaluation. Mom was released into what we thought was a good nursing home, and he ended up there too.

Good thing, right, both in the same place? Nope, they were in separate wards and thanks to the shutdown, we were not permitted to visit or even talk to their “caregivers” face-to-face. It was horrible. 

Dad caught the disease and gave it to Mom during a brief visit between them. 

I won’t share the details, but mistakes were made, some of them well-meaning, some of them because people were afraid of the disease and, being unobserved by caring family members, could get away with egregious neglect and abuse.

When they let Mom have her phone and we found out about these things we tried to remedy the situation over the office phone…when anyone answered it that is. They often didn’t and we went hours and days with no contact.

I shudder to think how horrible it was for my parents, the primary victims. Alone, no support, no contact with each other. Dad couldn’t hear, and was hard-pressed to talk on the phone to Mom or to us.

Then he was hospitalized. 

All alone. He couldn't even see their family physician, who cared deeply about them, and would have added personal contact to the terrible equation forced on him by the plague. Neither could Mom.

Mom hardly ever had her phone, even after my brother bought her a new one when they “lost” her old one. No phone, no complaints to family members.

Dad was going to be released back to nursing home Hell, when he declined quickly and died.

Mom followed four days later.

The disease was undeniably terrible. We all got it and suffered horribly. Underlying conditions made it harder for some than others. 

The betrayal of trust by people who should have had our best interests at heart but clearly didn’t, brought on a nearly universal underlying condition, which contributed heavily to our family’s hardship.

It’s hard to go on living with a broken heart. Mom and Dad just couldn't. I don’t guess the regret ever goes away, but I thank J. A. Jance for writing so brilliantly of the problems, some trivial, some terrible, that we all faced back then. 

I think listening to Betrayal of Trust in audio book format helped me come to terms with some of them. Not all of them though.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Dad

 

Thanks for the Eastern Bluebirds that came to the yard this morning. Your birds, always and forever.

Tough Guy

 

This little dog is a manly man. He guards his outdoor kennel run from snakes and rats and other terrors...dispatches them summarily and sometimes even eats them. (But only in summer, as he is not exactly furry.)

And then there was that chicken incident. He doesn't like us to talk about it but, still, it was pretty bad.

Of course he does get sick as stink any time he eats his kills, but the toughness remains indisputable. 

If someone comes to the door, his barks, if kind of high-pitched for Dogzilla, are relentless and unstoppable.

However, he has a dirty little secret, and meanie that I am, I am going to tell you about it.

He is terrified of his toy box. It is just a small cardboard box, not even chin-high to HIM !!! It is kept in the pantry, heaped with old toys Jill left behind, his own squeaky balls that glow until he kills their innards, and assorted stuffed things ranging from a beaver to a shark with a flamingo wrapped around it, plus knotted ropes and rubber bones. He loves them all.

Every morning when he has free time after the morning dog walk he creeps into the pantry and nudges at the box. If it moves he bolts. Since he nudged it, of course it moves. He trots urgently around the kitchen table in high dudgeon, outraged that some witch put all his toys in there and he can't get them out without being assaulted. (I love that rocking tough terrier gait he has. He thinks he is a Bull Terrier, even if he is wrong.) 

Then he goes back into the pantry for another nudge.

Eventually he gets over it, digs into the goodies...very carefully, so as not to disturb THE BOX... and fetches out toy after toy. We play a bit, there are pets and treats, then he goes back in his crate for a while. (Because he relentlessly eats everything he finds and destroys anything he can't swallow, supervision is a big part of his life.)

And wouldn't you know it? While he is incarcerated, that witch puts all those toys back into the dreaded box.

Then the next play time we do it all again.

A Salute to All our Veterans

 Thanks!

Cold Coffee

 Just finishing that vital first cup. Not iced coffee mind you. I don't like it. However, BITD when I was milking cows on a big farm near here, temperatures got down to 40 below zero F pretty often. Thick sheets of ice formed on the milking parlor walls that we couldn't get rid of until temperatures moderated. I got used to cold coffee. We all kept our cups thereof on the green metal shelf near the steps to the pit and it didn't stay warm long.

Our house is warmer than the milking parlor was back then, but not as much warmer as I might like it to be. However, I don't mind the chilly brew.

It does the job.

Microwave Applesauce

 

So, I am crazy about apples, eat one almost every day, as long as I can get good ones.

The boss is not a fan, but he likes applesauce and needs to eat foods like that. Thus over the years I have made him a lot of it.

My previous method of prep required hours of simmering. Turned out delicious and all, but I don't always want to spend half a day checking in every few minutes to stir, stir, stir.

Plus, since it was a PIA to make, I made a lot at once, and always ended up tossing some, even if I broke it into batches and froze. He just couldn't eat it fast enough.

As apple season winds down we've been visiting Bellinger's Orchard early and often to stock up. We bought some seconds last week (which are actually perfectly nice apples, with just a few blemishes). I knew it was inevitable that I spend a few boiling hours to care for my life partner.

Then I had a thought. I wondered if you could microwave applesauce in small batches quickly.

Turns out you can.

I am not sure what might work for you, but I peeled, cored, and diced two apples, and put them in a microwave safe bowl with enough water to keep them from drying out or burning up. Then I nuked them for five minutes, smushed them down a bit with a fork, gave them another minute and a half and there it was....enough lovely applesauce for a couple of day's meals.

I make it without sugar and just squash it up good but I guess you could blend it finer if you wish. We prefer it kind of chunky. We also like cinnamon, so I add a hearty dose of that.

I am so excited about this....It's the little things.

Happy Halloween

 

Brave-ish Heart

 

Rusty Blackbird, one of the nice birds we found

I dug deep into my heart to find the blood of my Scottish ancestors,  hoping to gather the strength to be bold. Then we  consulted maps and bravely headed off to Scotia on Sunday. To those who might think this is a terrifying accomplishment, Scotia is about 26 miles from here, a little over half an hour's drive.

However, Scotia is dum, da, dum, dum....a CITY! The place we wanted to go in hot pursuit of the recently visiting Ross's Goose is in a CITY!!! park.

We set out as soon as we dropped Becky off for work, which I quickly discovered, via actually reading the time stamps on the eBird lists featuring the bird, was a mistake.

See, the goose had been being seen in the afternoon and it was morning. Oh, well, I didn't notice until we were well on the way so we went anyhow. Turned out it was an easy drive, we found the place quickly, it was calm and pleasantly quiet, and well....really pretty nice. Didn't feel like a city at all.

The terrifying cityscape at Quinlan Park where the goose was visiting

Before I had been out of the car for even five minutes, I heard a strange sounding goose flying overhead. I knew it was something different than the normal Canada Geese. Merlin said Cackling Goose and so did its appearance, small, short neck, almost invisible bill. 

Cool, a rare bird. Before we left I had seen 23 species, including some other fairly unusual birds.

Alas, no Ross's Goose.

However, later in the day a prominent birder, who is also a really nice guy, posted that the goose was at the park. The boss said, "Let's go!" and so we did.

End result, another life bird, number 266, which doesn't make me big year material, but makes me pretty happy anyhow. Also two rare bird alert birds in one day. Downright cool.

Sometimes it's good to strike out boldly where no man.... dozens of other birders, have gone before. 

The best of my abysmal Ross's Goose photos.

Rustlers

 Most of the leaves are down here now. At early dog walking time the few that cling, bitter in the branches, make their presence known.

They rattle and hiss and sing their songs of late and lost and make the chill wind colder.

Orion is modest this cool fall dawn. A kilt of clouds is snug around his middle and a shawl draped mistily across his shield and shoulder. I appreciate his concern for my delicate sensibilities, but no matter what he wears, winter is still coming. I blame him for that...

But maybe he's just cold.

Some day I want to get some Winterberry Holly
for the yard. Meanwhile the swamps are ablaze with it

It has been one of the most beautiful Autumns in recent memory, taking me back to elementary school over in Fonda, (county offices now), where we played under the shedding maples, building forts and outlining "houses" with piles of leaves. Even then I was nobody's girly-girl, preferring that my golden enclosures be imaginary horse stables and corrals. 

No bright maples up here on the hill and I miss them. When we lived in town, I used to coax the village workers into bringing me the bags of leaves folks set out for pickup. I would dump them all inside my little fenced in garden down there and in spring rake them off the beds into the paths. In the few years we lived there the soil went from ashes and clinkers brought in as fill, hard as concrete and about as fertile, to rich, black earth that grew fine flowers and vegetables....alas, it is but a lawn now. Up here the soil is absurdly fertile, as evidenced by cannas that grow feet above my head every summer with minimal care.

Anyhow, we are still digging cannas...ugh, what a job!!! and dragging them indoors for winter. I have forced myself to leave a few summer hanging plants outside to freeze. It about kills me to let them go, but I KNOW they will not winter. Instead they will set up little aphid nurseries and infest all the other plants, so into the frostfire it is for them. I still feel guilty.

Ruddy Duck

Meanwhile birding has been sporadic at best and downright boring at worst. I blame the great weather. Why fly south when you can feast up here, fattening up for a slightly delayed escape later? Best recent bird has been a recurring Ruddy Duck up in the Lyker's area. I do love me a Ruddy Duck.

 These days, I am trying to rustle up the nerve to go chase the Ross's Goose in Collins Lake. It's only in Scotia for Pete's sake! Why am I so timid about going down there? Why am I so timid in general?

Dagnabbit.

However

 

Common Mergansers when it wasn't foggy

Despite the unrelenting daily fog, which makes chasing migrating ducks and geese problematic at best, there are compensations.

Jingling White-throated Sparrows make a tambourine of song from the thickets near the house. There are a lot of them this year. I have counted upwards of thirty around the yard, but there are more.

The sun turns the fog pink and gold and makes it pretty with the trees all ink and outline on the lawn.

So, I guess we will wait til the fog burns off and instead of chasing ducks I will see what's in the yard this morning.

I saw him
He didn't see me

Crickets

 

5AM dog walk.

Stars are crisp and bright. Nothing mars the dark and silent night. Crickets stopped their drilling four nights ago now and it is freezing every morning, though the days are soft and warm.

I walk my steps and watch the sun dip a hesitant toe in morning.

Tentative.

Cautious.

Is the ether warm or cold?

And with each single lumen come the fog drops from the sky.

Which flat wrecks the birding I can tell you! You cannot see a distant duck in a close-knit fog mull unless you have X-ray vision and I don't.

Oh, well, maybe some morning we will miss the fog....only the crickets know.

Recipe for Matthew

 

These pies were made with turkey Ralph bought me last Thanksgiving
It was still okay after being frozen for a year, but not as juicy and tasty as it might have been.
Made great pies though!

As requested:

Poultry Pies

Sauté 4 stalks of celery and two large cloves of garlic in oil of your choice. I use butter because…butter! It’s better!

When celery is somewhere near done add 4 or 5 chicken thighs, or maybe four cups or so of cut up leftover Thanksgiving turkey.

Season to taste. I use generous amounts of lemon pepper blend, Italian seasoning, Mrs. Dash seasoning, a tiny dusting of onion powder, and same of sage. Also half a teaspoon of our homemade paprika. You can use whatever you like. Since we don’t add salt, we are not afraid to toss in a bunch of flavorings.

I cook the thighs until they are mostly done, then use scissors to cut them into comfortably bite-sized pieces and finish cooking them through.

Taste a bit. Add more seasonings if needed.

While this is going on I prepare the vegetables. This is another place where personal taste comes in. Generally I prepare two packages of steam in the bag California blend and add them when most of the other ingredients are cooked. However, sometimes we add cooked  peas, frozen or canned, fresh carrots if we have them, fresh broccoli if there happens to be some in the fridge. Pretty much anything will blend nicely. I’d like to try some turnips or rutabagas. Leftovers are good...

Add the veggies and a couple/three cans of cream of mushroom soup. We buy no-salt-added if we can find it, but regular works too. Heat it all up together and taste again. Add seasonings if needed. By this point it should taste really good.

Divide the stuff into two pie crusts, 10 inch I think, cover it with another crust, crimp and pierce as needed and bake until the crust is good and brown in a 350 degree oven.

One pie feeds three of us two hearty meals and you could stretch it to feed two meals to four people if you needed to, but I have to warn you. It is really tasty and you might not want to share.

I usually cover the extra pie with tight foil and freeze for the next time we want it. 

You could easily adapt this recipe to beef, pork or venison. I love having  a nice pie waiting for a cold night when we are all hungry and nobody wants to cook. We really like them a lot.

Final Harvest

 

The forecast is for 29 degrees tomorrow night, the end of our growing season here. Thus the last tender things must be brought inside or their loss accepted. The fuchsia will be left out. I have never succeeded in wintering one so... Ditto the toothache plant, a first for me this year. I saved some seed and may harvest a bit more, but it's gonna be a goner. An ugly thing, but a fun novelty this year.

Lion's Ear...Many thanks to the nice lady who sent me seeds

The cannas are let to freeze, trimmed back to the ground, dug, and stored in totes and buckets in the pantry until spring. The potted ones I just haul in pots and all. I do try to winter the minis as house plants. They are kind of a pain to care for but I don't want to lose them. I saved seed from some of my favorites last year and they made it to bloom pretty early this summer, so I have been saving lots of seeds this year.

One miserable job is finding all the green tomatoes and stashing them somewhere indoors. For some reason tomato ripening was terribly sporadic this year and there are lots of green ones. There are also a number of bright red Alma peppers that need to come in to be dried for paprika. More on that in a later post that I have so far been too lazy to write.

Then begins the long cold. I recently read Alaska Challenge by Ruth and Bill Albee and Lyman Anson. It was written in 1930 about their insane adventure traveling across British Columbia following an uncharted path through the wildest of wilderness. It made me feel like a puppy, whining about modern NY winters, but still... BTW, it was quite a book. Becky got it for me as an audio book and at first i was so aggravated by the foolish things the Albees did that I almost DNFed it. However, as they got smarter, it got better, until I simply hated to see it end. If anyone knows of any websites detailing their later lives, I hope you will share. I am really curious to know what became of them and their Artic born children.

Anyhow, summer's over, the fun part of fall, ditto. And all I can say is BRRRR....

So the Wind Decided

That Saturday was the day to tear down the garden pond water feature and pull out the plants.

Well, actually it did a lot of the work for me, if not in exactly the manner I would have chosen. I had taken out the pump the day before and left it on the lawn to dry. That drained the two metal containers Alan had fashioned into a clever fountain, and made them much lighter than before.

Combined with the gigantic canna lily leaves from the corms therein it made a sort of sail. Not only were the bucket jobbies and the plants, plus adjacent plants as well, dumped into the center of the pond, all the cement props for same were also tumbled in.

I was glad it was pretty warm, as I shoved my sleeves up to my elbows and guddled around in the pond for a while, dragging out all the trappings, in between birding for October Big Day. 

I was astonished at how clean and light the cannas that had been in the buckets all summer ended up. They were huge! Feet over my head and lush, dark green, and vigorous looking. Yet the root system was neat and clean,

I was delighted that my little experiment turned out so well. As I was finishing up planting cannas last spring, as always there were a bunch left over. They multiply like bunnies or rocket scientists with fast calculators. On a whim I dropped a few into the water feature, into which water is pumped all summer to create a jingling cascade into the pond.

(Birds are drawn to the sound of moving water and guess who loves birds.)

Anyhow the thing succeeded like a champ. Not only did the plants grow eagerly, indeed madly, like a tropical forest, but the pond was the cleanest I have ever seen it. Despite grackles bombing it all summer with fecal sacs from their noisy offspring, which is usually a horrific problem, the water was crystal clear. We could enjoy the goldfish and rosy minnows all through the warm months, and once the cannas got growing, string algae ceased to be a problem.

The current water feature is pretty beat up from pond life for the past couple of years, but I have all sorts of ideas for doing something similar next year. I mean seriously! From changing the filter almost every day, with string algae nearly filling the pond every week, to changing the filter TWICE!!!! all summer!!! and it was still clean and clear when I pulled the pump!'

Also I didn't have to buy fancy water lettuce  and then clean that mess up in the fall either, and I have tons of cannas every year.

I can't wait for next spring! I am going to have a lot of fun with it all.