Category Archives: Snapshots

Remembering, Snapshots, Travels with the flock, Wanderings

Good things and W. Va.

4 Comments
things with feathers, susan and the laugh that breaks free and gets loose, barred owls that talk back, dessert with every meal, curvy busrides, porch swings and the secrets they gently coax out of the dark, breakfast with bats, kathie’s meticulous journaling, mountainsides that leak water and are drenched in wildflowers, the happy sound of laughter late at night, round hay bales and curious cows, a dry set of clothes before dinner, fitting in easily, small brindled dogs, ramps, nina’s quiet smile, the squishy sound of mud underfoot, buttercups in the side yard, the first sweetcorn of the season, ovenbirds that court under a blanket of stars, a bowl of pistachios shared over the day’s photos, ironed-dry jeans, biscuits with everything, cowbell on the fly, people who imitate the drumming of grouse, morrells with scrambled eggs…

Help me to remember more?

Birds, Seasons, Snapshots, Travels with the flock

Such singing

13 Comments

It was spring
and finally I heard him
among the first leaves–
then I saw him clutching the limb

in an island of shade
with his red feathers
all trim and neat for the new year.
First, I stood still

and thought of nothing.
Then I began to listen.
Then I was filled with gladness–
and that’s when it happened,

when I seemed to float,
to be, myself, a wing or a tree–
and I began to understand
what the bird was saying,

and the sands in the glass
stopped
for a pure white moment
while gravity sprinkled upward

like rain, rising,
and in fact
it became difficult to tell just what it was that was singing–
it was the bird for sure, but it seemed

not a single bird, but himself, and all his brothers,
and also the trees around them,
as well as the gliding, long-tailed clouds
in the perfectly blue sky – all, all of them

were singing.
And, of course, yes, so it seemed,
so was I.
Such soft and solemn and perfect music doesn’t last

for more than a few moments.
It’s one of those magical places wise people
like to talk about.
One of the things they say about it, that is true,

is that, once you’ve been there,
you’re there forever.
Listen, everyone has a chance.
Is it spring, is it morning?

Are there trees near you,
and does your own soul need comforting?
Quick, then–open the door and fly on your heavy feet; the song
may already be drifting away.

“Such Singing in the Wild Branches” by Mary Oliver

Just a gentle reminder that Spring is passing, birds are migrating, wildflowers are blooming… get out and find it before it’s done!

Birds, Pastimes, Snapshots

Teacher bird

13 Comments

A funny thing about birds in the hand; they’re so much smaller than we realize. Sometimes it’s even difficult to recognize them for a moment or two, I guess because we’re not used to seeing them in so much detail.

Or at least I’m not.

😉

Says Laura who refuses to wear her glasses when birding.

Ovenbirds are handsome warblers; an olive-green back and a white waistcoat spotted and streaked like a thrush. And they have very big eyes! They like to make their dutch-oven shaped nests on slopes in deciduous woods, on the forest floor.

Theirs was one of the first warbler songs I learned, because it’s so easy to recognize and so loud! When I first put bird and song together, I was surprised to imagine all that noise coming from such a tiny, inconspicuous-looking bird. Their only bit of color comes from that black-rimmed orange stripe across the top of the head.

The farmhouse we stayed at in W. Virginia was blessed with many ovenbirds in the surrounding woods. That was quite a treat for me as I’m used to having to *go* somewhere to hear their song. Something neat I learned about them there is that they sing at night… a funny sort of flight song, but I can’t find it referenced in any of my bird books. Anyone know any more about that?

Please click on the pics to make them bigger, especially that first one. It’s sure to make you smile.

Snapshots, Travels with the flock, Wanderings

Skywatch Friday: Devil’s Courthouse

5 Comments

Devil’s Courthouse from the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina. Elevation 5720.

Even the vocabulary is unfamiliar to me: ridge, gap, valley, pass, switchback, hollow, notch. There’s been very little in my upbringing to acquaint me with a love for the mountains or the many words used to characterize them. I grew up in another place, with other treasures.

I’ve played in the High Peaks of the Adirondacks as an adult, where instead of sweeping views, one gets mostly strained glances at the sky through bare branches. These mountains are not so jumbled and rough; instead they’re all curves and circles, bulges and dimples and woods that go on forever uninterrupted.

For all that it felt exotic and alien, my spirits were lifted by the visible rush of spring as it crept up the mountainsides and the sweet light of sunset polishing the days. The throaty croak of ravens flying in tandem in a valley below, dark woods shot through with gleaming white dogwood blossoms, tiny hemlock cones and banks of trillium; all spoke to that part of my heart that gasps at such sights.

Visit here for more Skywatch Friday posts.

I like to make lists, Snapshots, Travels with the flock, Wanderings, Whatever

Southern oddities

10 Comments
Just a couple things that tickled me from along the way…

And you all tease me about NJ and its toll roads?

The particular pleasure of watching your fat expertly glazed at Krispy Kreme… ack… too sweet! And what’s up with *waffle houses* and *biscuit houses*? And sweet tea? But absolutely no decent coffee anywhere within a 50 mile radius?

The mountain version of internet service, evocative of the days when two tin cans and a length of string constituted phone service… and the folly of hosting 17-some bloggers who were then forced to pirate a wi-fi signal wherever possible.

A *new* river that flows north. Backwards.

Right. We don’t really do mountains in NJ. WTF?

Rare red trilliums that are um… white? Or is it yellow? I have so many pictures of trilliums I’ve forgotten who’s who. W. Virginia is awash in trilliums. They should better protect their flowered hillsides, I think.

The whole Southern fascination with B-B-Q. I never got a look at the pit, but I’d be surprised if it wasn’t made out of half an old oil barrel.

I think this could probably be an on-going list, as we all remember things…

Anyone?

Birds, Snapshots, Travels with the flock, Wanderings

High country miscellany

13 Comments

Whoever was in charge of scheduling flock members for field trips did a good job of separating me from the more raucous members of our group. Maybe they somehow knew that adding me to the Susan, Mary, Lynne and Beth mix would just be too much for anyone to bear. As it was, I did trips with Kathie, KatDoc, Nina, Jane and Tim. One day, for Cranberry Glades, I was all by myself and very quiet and well-behaved.

I missed the chance to be silly with the others, but one benefit of being on different trips was that the others could tell me what to look forward to on each trip. The highlight of the High Country trip for everyone was the bobolink field that we visited late in the day. Bobolinks and Meadowlarks aren’t new birds for me, but seeing them this way, surrounded by mountain views, was a new joy.

Another joy, whenever I’m out birding, is meeting dogs along the way. These two local pups barked their way suspiciously into our group, and Jane, a self-proclaimed cat person, interrupted her quest for bobolinks for a little doggy-love.

Nina took this pic of me that I’ll use when I win Birder of the Year.

😉

That little dog attached himself to my ankle. Cute!

I carried that ridiculous lens everywhere for a week and took all of three bird pictures. The next time I go to W. Va. in early May I’ll bring my macro lens so I can take pics of all the wonderful wildflowers that bloom there. I wish the festival would have advertised that aspect a bit better for the likes of me.

There were lots of little, slow moving things to take pics of that I couldn’t really give justice to with my big lens. I had to back up a half-mile to get this soft pic of a funny fungus we found growing in a little vernal pool. We tried making it into Golden Club, but decided instead that it was some fungus that I can’t remember the name of. Connie Toops stopped me at breakfast the following morning to tell me the name of it, and well… I hadn’t had enough coffee yet, I guess.

The second of my three bird pics… a sweet Chestnut-Sided Warbler. My eyesight is pretty poor and I tend to use my ears first for IDing birds, so I kept confusing these with Hooded Warblers which were everywhere! No matter how many times I listened to the songs of both on my birdJam or asked one of the field trip leaders to help me tell them apart, it didn’t help. At least the Chestnut-Sideds aren’t nearly so skulky as the Hooded Warblers.

I was hoping to see a bear at some point on the trip, but the closest I came was seeing some bear poop. I didn’t take pics of it, instead I was amused by everyone else taking pics of it. Silly birders!

Snapshots, Travels with the flock, Wanderings

A flock pic

12 Comments
and this isn’t even all of us!

We bloggers pretty much invaded the New River Birding and Nature Festival this year… whether as a part of the Flock, friends of the Flock, or as leaders on the various field trips.

At times we were so loud and obnoxious, I thought for sure they would kick us out and beg us never to return.

😉

Not me, of course, I’m the quiet one.

Pictured above, in the back row are Bill Thompson, Tim, Nina, Jane, Barb, Kathie, Lynne and me

Next are Beth, Kathi and Mary (who saw 38 life birds and as of Saturday couldn’t remember one of them!)

Bunched up in the front are Jane, Kathie and Susan.

Not there for the photo, but also blogging about the festival were Kathleen, Julie Zickefoose, Jim McCormac and Jeff Gordon (who can really sing – who knew?)

There’s plenty of talent and diverse persepctives on that list to keep you all busy while I unpack and do laundry.

Enjoy browsing!