Can you hear the evil cackling from behind my computer screen?
😉
I imagine there’s enough here for guessing anyway.
As to hints, well… the pic was taken roadside, behind a restaurant featuring pasties.
And I did eventually learn the proper pronunciation of that delicacy, but not before embarrassing myself with the waitress.
Here’s a hint: pic taken today in Northern Michigan at a state park’s feeder. Happy guessing! 
😉 
I broke The Rules today and fed the wildlife… only to entice the peepers a little closer to my lens.
It was whole wheat, at least.
😉
Mama looks quite pleased with her progeny, I think.
Click on the pic to see her smile.
Hi!
I’ve no good excuse for going missing for nearly a week, other than an almost total lack of photographic evidence of what I’ve been up to.
😉
There’s this, though.
A six-spotted tiger beetle that amused me for a couple minutes along a sunny path at Allaire State Park the other day. I only ever see them there… not sure why, exactly. Very pretty, as beetles go.
I’d missed out on any trips to Allaire earlier this Spring because I was in W. Virginia with The Flock. Allaire is a great local spot for warblers in migration and has some nice breeders. Best find was a Prothonotary Warbler. Anyone know if they breed there? Patrick?
I was hoping for Pink Lady Slipper Orchids, but was either too late or too early or too distracted to find any. There were Canada Mayflowers blooming, but those are so tiny and hide out in the underbrush so my pics are especially awful.
I’ll be around to catch up with you all in the next couple days and may finally try to sort through all those pics from New River.
I hope everyone had a nice Memorial Day…
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!
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 an
d 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.
Juliet’s snared you, little one, perhaps startled you into our nets…
interrupted your song or nest-building to carry you away for a moment…
our temporary prisoner, an object of study.
Tom wants only to fit you with a tiny numbered bracelet…
and to blow gentle kisses among the feathers of your breast…
to measure the distance of your wings and the length of longing in your journey…
to hold you up for a portrait; your bright eye looking to the sky for escape…
to release you, your bit of fire no longer contained; his open palm and our thanks for this moment in your life.
#17 in my 38 by 39. Time is running short…
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!
