All posts by laurahinnj

Birds, In the neighborhood

World Series friends

9 Comments

World Series Day is primarily about birds for many, but for me it’s also a chance to get together with all the friends I bird with at some point during the course of a year.

2008 was the 10th year of the Sandy Hook Century Run and I’ve managed to have a part in each of those ten years. The first year it poured rain the whole day and was awful and I swore I’d never do it again! We’ve not had such awful weather since, thank goodness, but it does take a certain type of person to subject themselves to a full 18 hours straight of birding. This is about half of our team of 32 – others arrived later than our 5:30 am start or left before our 9 pm finish – but we ended with many of these 16 or so listening to a Barred Owl calling somewhere off in the distance.

Some of us are very serious and persistent in looking for birds… others not so much. I tend to fall into the latter category, enjoying instead the chance to chat and look at the clouds and generally goof off. My friend Lou is one of those “very serious birder types” and found our day Surf Scoters lazing on the bay… he’d moved away from NJ about 5 years ago, but appeared yesterday and I was so happy to see him again. We’d birded together on Sunday mornings at Sandy Hook for years before he moved away.

We all recognize that fabulous smile… Patrick from The Hawk Owl’s Nest was one of four co-leaders for the day. If you want to read a proper report of our big day, one that focuses on the birds we saw, read his post and have a look at the Cape May Warbler that was probably THE bird of the day for many and a lifer for me.

Some of us are more willing to go the distance to find birds and Patty is that… she trudged through water and marsh at the salt pond at North Beach in hopes of scaring up something good for us to see… this Canada Goose pair wasn’t so happy about the intrusion.

It was a slow day for migrants and that left time to pay attention to other things on the coast. At Plum Island we found a good number of horseshoe crabs wrong-side-up on the shore of the bay and Susanna and others methodically righted each crab to free them back to the water.

Sometimes, especially mid-day when one is inclined to be cranky and feel especially sleep-deprived, it’s nice to just walk along the bay and appreciate the sand and the sun. I took this pic of Gail and then joined her.

Part of what’s especially nice about being part of a “Century Run” team is that we needn’t be quite so serious or competitive about finding birds… we can have fun and just enjoy the day and each other’s company. We are sometimes serious, though, like when the group marched in line through the field at K Lot at North Beach to find sparrows… there was this mouse-like bird that we’d hoped would become a Grasshopper Sparrow, but I’m not sure we ever made that ID.
Janet and I became fast friends as volunteers at the bird observatory a couple years ago and we had a very serious role to play in this year’s World Series. A couple years ago she and I found the very rare Eurasian Collared Dove on World Series Day (totally by accident!) and so were the designated spotters for the almost-as-rare White-Winged-Dove that had been found at Sandy Hook a couple days ago. We never found it yesterday, but we kept each other going and laughing throughout the day. When the rest of the team went on a second “death march” to the salt pond, she and I stayed behind at the hawk watch to appreciate the view and keep an eye out for any odd-looking doves.

A Century Run team accepts birders of all ranks… the beginner, the wanna-be, the lazy, the expert-who-needn’t-make-the-death march-because he’s seen everything! Rich Kane held a comfy chair at K Lot while we marched to the salt pond.

During lunch at Spermacetti Cove we had the chance to spot a few birds for the youth team from the Newark Museum… kids… almost excited about birds… imagine that! Sandy Hook was only one stop of many for their team. They were a great group to meet and I hope they did well for their efforts.

Scott from SHBO is the main energy behind the team and is a generally good guy. Great birder, excellent storyteller and seen here trying to rescue a horseshoe crab from fishing line tangles. He had me in stitches at the end of the day telling stories about trips to North Dakota, finding dead bodies while birding… you name it and Scott has a story for it.

We ended the day with 117 species… not bad… a respectable number, I’d guess. For me the nicest part was the chance to bird with so many friends.

Birds, Bunnies, Remembering, Whatever

Looking out together

4 Comments

Today was World Series day here in NJ: when we crazy birders attempt to see as many species as possible to raise money for conservation. We had a great day, but I was at it from 5:30 this morning until 9 tonight and I’m just too pooped to think straight. That’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

It’s also a year today since Cricket passed away and I thought I’d share again this favorite pic of she and Boomer. Last year this time was sad for me; it’s nice now to see Boomer happy and laying about with a new bunny friend the way he used to with Cricket.

Anyway… the pillow calls…

Garden, Snapshots, Whatever

Picniking with lily of the valley

9 Comments
You all know that I love to play with my photos… a couple times people have asked what editing tricks I use. I’ve been hesitant to share any techniques because, well… I just play around with Photoshop until I find something that I like. Let’s face it: Photoshop is cost-prohibitive and really-frickin’-complicated, so I don’t see the point in trying to explain the little bit that I’ve figured out.

At any rate, just today I came across a free site that offers many similar effects without the multiple steps that I normally resort to and even some that I hadn’t been able to figure out on my own with Photoshop. It’s free and painless with Picnik. Have a look at what I was able to do in just a couple minutes with this shot of a lily of the valley from my garden; I must have taken 3 dozen pics, none of which I was happy with:

Auto-fixed for color

Vignetting effect to add focus; an improvement I think.

Holga-ish; I love this and know it would involve multiple steps in Photoshop. This is my favorite of the lot and perfect for the subject-matter.

Inverted lomo-ish effect; certainly different!

Focal black and white + focal soften; there’s potential in this effect, but this isn’t the right photo for it, I don’t think.

Have some fun… share the results… get creative with your pics!

Books, Snapshots, Whatever, Wildflowers

Savage springtime

3 Comments

Every so often I like to play with a translation project I first started in college. Back then I was overly careful, I think, to stick closely to the original text. With multiple revisions and the fact that no one is grading me on this (!) I let myself have a bit more fun with the text at each visit. Others, from the same book and author, Ana Maria Matute, are here and here and here.

I don’t know who called springtime sweet. I remember running towards the forest, my brothers and I and our friends, barely smelling in the air its peculiar, unmistakable odor. We carried large Hazelwood sticks to open a path through the leaves; leaves as large as the palms of our hands. There was a narrow and shady path above the forest where a thick jungle of wildflowers bloomed. Tightly packed, tall among the shadows, grew these plants that reached as high as our chests and got tangled around our arms and legs. Our knees got wet, our feet were drowned in the caked-up mud, and I even seemed able to touch the moist, hot air.

The leaves of the wildflowers were an angry green and were bound together with tiny crystals of a recent snowfall. I liked to put them close to my cheek, like the hand of a friend. The flower was white and sinister, poisonous according to the shepherds; the tips of the petals stained scarlet like fingers soaked in blood. Because of our childish fanfare, we liked to bring the blossoms close to our lips and say,

“I’ll bite it!”

There was always some little one that ended up shouting while the bigger kids waited secretly, cruelly, fearing and wishing in our hearts for some strange and sudden death; needless and terrible in the middle of the overcast morning in the forest. There while the insects and the golden bees buzzed and you could hear the river at the base of the big gully, with the beetles flickering their mulberry wings against the metallic silver of their shells, among the high grasses on the path. The babysitter said that the most beautiful wildflowers held a mysterious poison for princes and stray children in the center of their suspiciously white petals. They shined like stars among the greenish-blue of the thick leaves, their surface polished and the underside dull like the skin of a peach. Someone – the country people, the shepherds, the servants, all the people of the world taught us to sing:

“Beautiful wildflower
Princess,
Deceive me, so white
Princess… “

I don’t remember how that little song ended, but I do know that it carried within a desire that was both sweet and painful. We went along singing it, shoulder to shoulder or in a line, as we emerged from the leaves and the giant ferns. Between the buzzing of the mosquitoes and the strange calls of birds, we asked, without understanding why,

“Deceive me…”

One day I got lost among the wildflowers. I don’t know that I was truly lost, but what is certain is that I was stretched out on the ground, almost buried among the wide leaves, the earth underneath my back drenched with water, little tiny stones digging into my shoulders and waist; very close to my eyes and lips was the poison of the evil princess flower. There was a dream in the thick air, in the shade of that blinding green. Up above, from time to time among the beech tree leaves, the sun appeared like gold, a true gold like a trophy. It took them a while to find me and once they did, they punished me. Later, they thought I was sick. I don’t know if I was, but I got a dose of the poison, the intense wildflower poison, and it rang in my ears for a long time like a bee.

In this urbane springtime, behind the mud walls of the gardens, perhaps a fleeting scent blooms on the wind, like a seed. This is no longer the savage springtime. No longer does it feign that unbearably beautiful and sweet poison, no longer does it sweetly ask, “Deceive me…”

The photo is not an evil princess flower (g) … just a windflower from the garden.

Birds, In the neighborhood, Whatever

Beach plum bliss

6 Comments

I went for a walk over the dunes at Sandy Hook again this morning. Through the holly forest and into the locust grove to look for spring migrants. Then I headed to the shoreline, turned right at the surf and retraced my steps through the dunes and sat to savor the blooming beach plums and flirt with sunburn. Then back to the bay to watch the osprey pair and be greeted by a pair of willets.

The beach was still winter-empty, but for the birders and a dandelion yellow kite invisibly anchored among a small group of school kids. Twin Lights lies behind towards home and ahead in the haze is the NYC skyline. All around me are the beach plums, humming with happy carpenter bees. The harsh calls of common terns compete with the laughing gulls and the throaty noise of brant lingering on the bay. There are hawks overhead and the rumor of a phalarope on the salt pond at the end of the fisherman’s trail. There’s only an hour or so before I need to think about getting to work to see clients and decide I’d rather spend it here in the dunes instead of chasing some bird I’d hardly recognize without my scope and a field guide. It feels today like spring is edging closer to summer and I have my ritual visit with the beach plums to attend to. There’ll be time for chasing birds another day; now I just want to sit and admire the way they ornament an otherwise still mostly barren wash of dunes… and the sun, I want to feel the sun work its magic on me.

Birds, Wanderings

Wandering for spring migrants

8 Comments

Ever been followed through the woods by a nuthatch? This little guy followed along, tree to tree, flew directly at our heads, as if he thought there might be peanuts in our pockets. Funny! Especially hilarious is that Mike at 10,000 birds had the same experience last year! Have to wonder if this isn’t the same crazy bird. There were some 23 species of warblers at Garret Mountain on Saturday, but all I got was this lousy pic of a cute nuthatch… story of my life. Garret is generally a magical place on a spring day and I’ve never had a bad visit. The only disappointment this time was with the weather… gray and rainy and foggy… but the birds were dripping from the trees. We could easily have chosen any oak tree at random and spent the day beneath it. As it was, it was difficult to know where to focus the binoculars… difficult to focus on any one birdsong… difficult to not be distracted by what might be ahead in that other oak tree.

Focusing the camera lens was just as difficult. The good birds were too high up in that awful diffused light of a foggy day and were too busy feeding and flying about and chasing one another for any pics. This Canada Goose with its goslings was forced into a photo op… hissing all the way.

Most frustrating were the warbling vireos singing everywhere, none willing to come into view. It felt silly to chase such a plain-looking bird, but that song was maddening. Spring Beauties made a pretty carpet on the forest floor, dogwoods were blooming, and this maple had its keys hung out on display. Anyone have a guess at which maple this is?

In the neighborhood, Snapshots, Whatever

One spurge of many

2 Comments
I’m pretty sure this is some variety of spurge (Euphorbia) – maybe Seaside Spurge? – since it grows everywhere in the dunes at the beach? Puzzling through the thousands of spurges just tries my patience way too much.

😉

The early flies seem to appreciate it, whatever its name is. I do, too, for the bit of color before there’s anything else to draw my eye. (Even if it is yellow!)

Birds, Seasons, Whatever

Whatever… it’s Friday!

9 Comments

This photo of a Quaker style bedroom from the mansion at Walnford was taken a while ago; I’d meant to get back there this spring to search for wildflowers along the creek and in the surrounding woods, but haven’t made it there yet. The bluebells are probably just about done already and any trips to the woods now will be focused on birds rather than wildflowers. At any rate, I love this photo for its peaceful feel.

My *birding* this week has been sadly limited. Limited to a few minutes in the driveway as I leave for work and then whatever new birds I hear on the walk from the parking lot into the office. House wrens are back for a week or so now, but they’re not singing non-stop just yet here at home. This week I heard the first sweet song of a Baltimore Oriole and this morning there was a Catbird mewing from the evergreens near where I park. No yellow warblers yet or vireos which seems late to me. Probably I haven’t been paying enough attention.

I’m so glad to see an end to this week! I had such a horrible day at work yesterday and then today was such a nice day, thank heavens! I wish there were some way to balance out the bad with the good, some way to keep my client’s problems from becoming my problems, some way to keep it all on more of an even keel. I’ll figure that out in time, I suppose. That or I’ll have a nervous breakdown first!

Whatever. It’s the weekend and I’m glad for it. So… tell me your plans… Birds? Garden? Naps?

From the classroom, Remembering, Whatever

May Day

7 Comments

“There was a time when May Day meant sentiment. It was preceded by a busy week when young fingers were weaving baskets and small cornucopias out of colored paper. Between spells of basketmaking, scouting expeditions were made to the woods and fields, to see how the season went with wild flowers. And at least one trip was made to the candy store.

On April’s last day, as late as possible, the scouting expeditions were followed up. Purple violets, preferably those big, dark, long-stemmed ones which grow at the edge of the swamp, were picked. Dogtooth violets were gathered. and windflowers, if any were to be found. Spring beauties were sought, and Dutchman’s breeches. And the most delicate of young fern fronds were gathered for garnish. All were carried home in the dusk and stowed carefully in cups and glasses of water.

May Day morning called for early rising. In the bottom of the basket or cornucopia were put a few jelly beans left over from Easter, a few gumdrops, and at least one heart-shaped wafer candy printed with coy words of affection. Then the flowers were added till the basket brimmed with beauty. And at last, before breakfast if possible, the trip was made to Her house, where the basket was hung on the doorknob. The bell was rung and the basketer ran like mad, to hide around the corner until She came and found the tribute.

That was May Day, in the morning, when there was sentiment in the date. The candy might be cheap, the flowers somewhat wilted; but the sentiment was real. What ever happened to it, anyway?” –Hal Borland, Sundial of the Seasons

The closest I’ve ever been to finding a May Day basket outside my door was the year I had my 2nd graders make them for the other teachers at our school. Paper plates, tissue paper flowers and gumdrops… and a school full of happy smiling teachers at the start of the day.

Does anyone still make May Day baskets? Anyone remember them? Stories please!