We’ve all arrived safely – a bit wet and bedraggled – but we’re here. The wireless connection at the hotel is painfully slow, but I wanted to share this less-than-stellar shot of the first bird that found me this afternoon. Now can someone tell me what variety of bittern this is, before I unpack the field guides?
More later…
“There are voices which we hear in solitude, but they grow faint and inaudible as we enter into the world.” Is it Autumn for you yet? Have you heard the geese calling as they fly overhead in the night?
Fall is slowly disrobing summer of her great green canopy and hushing the symphony of bird and insect life. Night sounds have diminished; there is only the slowing drone of crickets and the occasional soliloquy of a moonlit mockingbird. Instead of singing to an intended mate, as he did at night for most of the summer, his outburts now seem to be of complaint. I find myself wondering what it is that wakes him up like this, so indignant and bad-tempered. Is it the chill wind or is he startled awake by some unseen predator?
Very early in the morning, before dawn out with the pup, I sometimes hear the soft contact calls of the neighborhood cardinals and chip notes that come from the sky – no love songs these; they speak of cold and coming hunger. Within an hour the first chickadee is at the sunflower feeder and the mockingbird in his appointed place in the holly tree. Only the odd angle of the sunlight gives away that it’s no longer summer, no longer the season of growth and abundance and love songs.
This carving was our splurge at the decoy show this year. The Blackburnian is my favorite spring warbler lately and I like the way the bird is perched on this old tool, looking like it just dropped in there. I can’t remember if I saw a Blackburnian this spring – it’s kind of nice to have one there on the mantel.
It might be hard to appreciate from this darkish photo, but the whole carving is of wood, even the tool parts that are made to look like metal. I think it’s called a *block and pulley* and is some sort of antique nautical tool. Neat, huh?
One!
Two!
Three!
???đŸ˜‰
In case you live under a rock (or are just not obsessed with birds like the rest of us) you can read the details
here and here. Sounds fun, doesn’t it? Think about joining us while there’s still time, okay? Cape May is not as far away as you might think and even if it is, it’s well worth the trip. I’m lucky to live within a two-hour drive of one the five best birding spots in the country, but there’s more to Cape May than birds and I’d love to see you enjoy the beauty of South Jersey before it’s all paved over and filled up with shopping malls.The time around Columbus Day always finds me
under the weather and in need of a bit of Cape May’s medicine. There’s something about the salt air and a day off from the routine that works wonders for my mood… so I made a quick trip today to be able to share some of the magic with you. Are you ready to join us yet?
I often think I’m spoiled to live where I do, with so much beauty within an hour or two of driving. The ocean is just minutes away and I suppose that makes me take it somewhat for granted. At this season of the year, I don’t think there’s much more beautiful than the salt marsh. The seaside goldenrod is blooming, as are the big white bouquets of the groundsel trees. The really large marshes are a bit of a trip for me – Delaware Bay or south to the barrier islands stretching from Barnegat Bay to Cape May.
A return visit to the decoy show on Sunday left with me an hour or two before heading home to explore the salt marsh at Great Bay near Tuckerton. I wasn’t looking for birds, just enjoying the scenery along the 5 mile road into the pristine marsh, passing salt ponds and little inlets and channels along the way. I found a sandy beach before the first bridge where Luka could run through the shall
ows while I studied the skies and the passing Monarchs stopping to feed on goldenrod. There was a noisy flock of Boat-tailed grackles near to a ridiculously-narrow wooden plank bridge and a few Great Egrets stalking the marsh grasses. I was surprised not to see more of them – one of the little creeks close to home has had at least 3 dozen egrets feeding in the early morning when the tide is right. I keep reminding myself to stop and photograph them before they’ve gone.
For those of you coming to the Fall Weekend – Tuckerton and nearby Brig is within driving distance from Cape May and may be worth a stop if you’re coming from the north. I don’t usually stop here on my way south to Cape May, prefering instead to head west to the Delaware Bayshore and visit the marshes there.
I wonder if this will be anyone’s first chance to dip their toes into the Atlantic Ocean – Susan? Lynne?
Gliding like a tiny shadow before the tide, little more than a bit of wind-shifted sand, I search the place where sand and water become sky. The waves quickly erase my tracks and leave the beach empty of any memory of my passage. Days pass this way, the ebb and flow of life and memory, of abundance and heartache. With a note from high overhead I depart toward the southern stars in search of some other land and leave this piece of shoreline in the solitude of a late summer evening.
Empty osprey platform at Horseshoe Cove, Sandy HookI’ve been so out of it this summer that I missed spending any time with the local ospreys and before too long they’ll be gone south for the season until late March.
There’s a pair that nests on a cell phone tower here in town and mostly I watch them while stopped at the railroad tracks that pass beneath their nest. I don’t see much besides an osprey-shaped shadow perched high up, but I’m glad to have them so easily within view. I tried a few times to photograph them from the parking lot nearby, but they always seemed to be off fishing when I was there with the camera. I see the pair though, and their young from my yard once in a while. Their calls stream down from above and I think myself blessed to have osprey as a yard bird.
My favorite nests to watch are the platforms on the marshes at Sandy Hook – especially at sunset. It wouldn’t take much to convince me to set up a home with such a pretty view! I don’t know that this or the other platform at Horseshoe Cove were used this year – the birds seem to have some mysterious preference for Spermacetti Cove or the chimneys on Officer’s Row instead.
I always miss the osprey when they go. What birds do you miss the most when the season changes?
“What if you slept, and what if in your sleep you dreamed, and what if in your dream you went to heaven and there plucked a strange and beautiful flower, and what if when you awoke you had the flower in your hand?
Ah, what then?”
—Samuel Taylor Coleridge
-Mary Oliver, “Owls and Other Fantasies“
I have a nice collection of poetry relating to birds that I like to dip into and share now and again. This one from Mary Oliver isn’t a favorite, but instead one I came across this evening and enjoyed. Of course, I’m always looking for more. Maybe you have a favorite that comes to mind? Share it here in comments or on your own blog if you like.
