I took this pic back a few weeks ago when we had a bit of a cold spell. The pond was partly frozen over with the ducks standing on the thin ice near the water.
©Giliell, all rights reserved
Something special from Lofty today.
I thought that it’s about time I added some spring cheer into the blog. Attached are pictures of the Eastern Spinebill chicks nearly ready to leave the nest. I first noticed them as I brushed under our snowball tree and they made a thin piping noise. Carefully pulling down the branch to see into the foliage must have made the babies think that a parent with a meal had arrived. The first picture includes the parent that was too quick to catch in a second photo. The next day the chicks were looking much readier and a couple of days later they were gone, leaving only a pile of baby feathers on the ground below.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eastern_spinebill
©Lofty, all rights reserved
©Lofty, all rights reserved
©Lofty, all rights reserved
©Lofty, all rights reserved
A mysterious woodpecker. ©voyager, all rights reserved
Frog Pond trail is used by a lot of people walking dogs, but it’s actually owned by our local school board. In addition to the pond and mixed forest pathways, there’s a small building on the property that can be used by visiting classes. In the spring and the fall, Jack and I often run into groups of grade-schoolers out for a nature walk. The kids are always boisterous, loud and full of energy and Jack delights in them. He wiggles and waggles and makes little happy, huffing noises that entertain the kids in return. It’s an active, well-used trail, and there are no signs anywhere to identify it as belonging to our school system
Then, today, Jack and I stumble across this laminated woodpecker held in place by a push pin next to a series of holes that were obviously made by a woodpecker. We found 3 or 4 more of the laminated woodpeckers with holes along the trail, causing me to spend much of our walk imagining the class that placed them there. In my minds-eye, I see a group of youngsters aged 7 -8 with their teacher and a few volunteer parents traipsing down the trail. There is a general happy chatter then an excited voice calls out,
” I found one, Mrs. Smith. I found one!”
And so, Mrs. Smith comes to the child, taking a laminated woodpecker out of her school bag and reaching into her pocket for a push-pin, and she takes the child to the holey stump, and together they pin the cheerful redhead into place. Or not.
We’ll never know just how those woodpeckers go to be there, and so any and all stories are possible. Maybe it was Bigfoot or Aliens or magic gnomes and hobbits.
Well, I did say possible, not probable.
Robert, Desert Son OM kindly reminded us that today is Caine’s birthday. I am rubbish at dates, but I always prefer birthdays to death days, as they speak of life and quite often, of happy memories.
How to better celebrate Caine’s birthday than with a bird, so here’s a duck on a sea of gold. Happy Birthday, Caine!
©Giliell, all rights reserved
The Imp House? ©voyager, all rights reserved
Jack and I happened upon this assortment of oddities just off the path, down by the river. We found a small hubcap, a bicycle tire and a little house together in a group. The house looks like a birdhouse set upon the ground and not in a tree. Jack tells me it’s a house for Imps and wanted to leave quickly.
“Why so nervous, Jack?” I asked him.
“That’s an Imp house, mommy. We need to get out of here.”
“Why… I’d like to meet an Imp.”
“No, you wouldn’t mommy. The Imps aren’t nice. They like to play tricks. Nasty tricks”
“How do you know these things, Jack.”
” I Pay attention to what goes on. You don’t see or hear much, mommy. I know it’s because you’re only a human, and your senses are dull.”
“My senses are not dull, Jack. I have excellent hearing, and my eyesight is fine with my glasses on.”
“Silly, mommy! You never see the Pixies and fairies or even the elves and the trolls! Humans scare the little folk, so they stay away from the paths and hide in the forest.”
“Well then, how could I see them if they hide from me?” and then I added, “Silly, Jack!”
“Mommy, let’s get out of here. I’ll tell you about the little folk later. I don’t like the Imps!”
“How do you know about the imps, Jack?”
“Mostly from the Fairies and the Elves, but I met a few Imps last spring. Remember when I got stuck in the mud on the other side of the river?”
“Oh yeah, Jack, I remember. I almost got stuck in the mud myself, trying to get you out. We were both a mess.”
“Well, that was the imps fault. They promised me a cookie if I went to visit their camp. And when the mud got too deep for me to go farther, they sat there watching me…and then you…and laughing. That’s what they do. They sit around all day eating mushrooms and getting silly, and then they play tricks on the other little folk. And the bigger folk when they come by.” Jack was getting visibly antsy, looking over his shoulder and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“How do you know this house belongs to Imps?” I asked, ” Maybe we should look inside to see what’s there.”
“NO, mommy. They’ll poke you in the eye or bite your nose. I can smell the Imps. Please, let’s go.”
“The house is right on the pathway, Jack. ” I thought you said the Little Folk stay away from humans, so why would they live here?” I said, getting down on my knees for a closer inspection.
“Silly, mommy. The Imps aren’t afraid of humans. They’re fast, and they have camouflage, and they like to steal from humans and play tricks on you. That’s why the bicycle tire and hubcap are here. They stole them from people. This house looks like a trap to me, mommy. Please, let’s go.”
“Alright, Jack, let’s go,” I said, standing up and brushing the dirt off of my pants. And so we left the river and made our way home with my curiosity left unsated. Camouflaged Imps? Pixies and Faeries? Elves and trolls??? I know Jack is typically taciturn, but it seems he knows a lot more about the forest than I do. I hope I can convince him to tell me more since it seems my human senses are a bit dull after all.
”
Doubling as a rare “Friday Feathers”
©Giliell, all rights reserved
Some last glimpses of sunlight remained…
©Giliell, all rights reserved
The mushrooms made a brave attempt.
©Giliell, all rights reserved
©Giliell, all rights reserved
Then the setting sun was reflected by clouds and the light became dramatic
©Giliell, all rights reserved
And the mist began to rise…
©Giliell, all rights reserved
Say goodbye to the swan for now, I’m sure we’ll meet again.
Then local pond had some pokestops added, making it a much more attractive destination for an afternoon walk (don’t judge). the fact that the woods are currently 90% mud further increased the attractiveness of the pond and its plastered walks. And it was nice taking the camera to something “new”. Sadly most of the sun was already gone because even sunshine apparently discriminates against working women.
©Giliell, all rights reserved
That fountain goes off once an hour. occasionally it shoots a bird out of the sky (or at least thoroughly confuses it).
©Giliell, all rights reserved
©Giliell, all rights reserved
©Giliell, all rights reserved
Swans are known to mate for life. Unfortunately, this swan’s partner didn’t know that and took off about three weeks ago.
Part two will follow tomorrow, when we find out if the swan swam over the lake (swim, swan, swim!).
The Armada Arrives ©voyager, all rights reserved
The swans stop by to say hello ©voyager, all rights reserved
Well, for once, the universe listened to me. Late yesterday we had a small dusting of snow that decided to stick around. It’s just enough to make things pretty, but not enough to need shovelling or make walking difficult. It’s perfect. I can see Jack at night again, and sure enough, it was easy to find his poop, even in the dark. It’s cold anyway, so there might as well be a bit of the white stuff around.
Jack and I decided to go to the park this morning, and it was reasonably quiet when we arrived, but we hadn’t been there long when we hear a loud, sustained honking overhead and looked up to see an entire Armada of geese flying in. A hundred or more birds were circling the pond. They finally landed in teams, and it took several minutes for them all to get down. Once they were all on the water, they continued to make noise for several more minutes, and boy howdy was it loud. It seemed to upset the swans who managed to get away from the crowd to come and say hi. Jack was quite rude and barked at them, but they didn’t care at all. The geese are permanent residents at our park – they don’t fly south because the living is comfortable here. The swans have an even easier winter ahead – they live in an indoor pond and have a keeper. Once the weather is warmer again in the spring, they’re driven back to the outdoor pond, happy, healthy and ready to have a new family.
Marshall Saunders. Princess Sukey. New York, Eaton & Mains; Cincinnati, Jennings & Graham [c1905]
I can’t think of a better way to end the month than with Nightjar’s portraits of the light.
Here I am to share the last chapter in the Light series. I started it October last year, so the only month missing was September. And what better way to end the series than with birds! For me September is the month of birds, especially because of the arrival of willow warblers and flycatchers and because it always seems like there are birds everywhere. All of these photos were taken on the same day, September 10. The light was lovely and I was very lucky with the waxbills, flycatchers, willow warblers, greenfinches and goldfinches. Thank you all and I hope you enjoyed the series. :)
©Nightjar,all rights reserved
A bit of fun from Avalus,
In my parents garden, we had a visitor recently: this young parakeet (I guess it is a rose-ringed one, Psittacula krameri). It was a bit roughed up by the neighbour’s cat, but it stood its ground and was not injured. The cat on the other hand has a new appreciation of sharp beaks, I guess. The bird did not mind us too much and tried to climb everything. We later had to save it from drowning in our rainwater barrel and it then for a while did not want leave the net on a stick we used on him. Still determined to climb something, it finally scaled our toolshed walls and a few hours later flapped away. The photos are a bit of a searching puzzle.
©Avalus, all rights reserved. (Click for full-size)
©Avalus, all rights reserved. (click for full size)
©Avalus, all rights reserved. (click for full-size)
Our book today was sent in by Anne, Cranky Cat Lady. I am greatly amused that our resident Cat Lady is sharing a book about the killing of a bird.
Who Killed Cock Robin & Other Stories. New York, A.L. Burt Co., 1916. Photo courtesy of ©Anne, Cranky Cat Lady
Who Killed Cock Robin & Other Stories. New York, A.L. Burt Co., 1916. Photo Courtesy of ©Anne, Cranky Cat Lady
Contemplating his next move ©voyager, all rights reserved
When Jack jumps into the water at the park or the river he’s accustomed to the ducks scattering away from him. Today this small flock of ducks didn’t scatter. Instead, they swam towards him and then dared him to come in. Now, Jack isn’t one to go looking for trouble, but I’ve seen him stand his ground around dogs that are a lot bigger than him. He once took on a huge German Shepherd and was holding his own until we broke it up. “Take that,” Jack snorfed, kicking up dirt with his back feet as walked away. He had swagger that day.
He did not have swagger today. Jack actually let those ducks keep him out of the water. Every time he went forward the ducks came forward. If he turned to the left so did the ducks. If he turned to the right so did the ducks. Those ducks patrolled that shore like warships in formation and Jack finally walked away. I think he made the right decision. They might be small, but those ducks meant business and at a ratio of seven to one they had the upper hand wing.