Sunday, March 26, 2023
Spring is Still a Tease
Spring has arrived in the Mid-Atlantic. All the news can talk about is our non-native cherry trees in full bloom and soon-to-be pink confetti all along the roadways and lawns. It does look like the osprey 'may' nest on the newly cleaned platform. I would track my binoculars to the nest that has been built and used for a few years as it sits in a high tree across the water and I saw no activity. I kept my fingers crossed. On March 9, weeks before the osprey was due to arrive a lonely female mallard spent a day on the platform, perhaps waiting for her mate.
Posted by Tabor at 10:06 AM 8 comments:
Thursday, March 16, 2023
Spring Has Arrived But Late Due to a Nasty Wind
These last few days were cold and very windy. Everything that was not attached flew across the yard as it was chased or thrown by the howl of the wind. The windy front behaved like an angry teenager that had been grounded for the week. I have lots of small branches to start my fires and create coals to burn the large logs. I walk around and fill my arms. I never have to search far for kindling in this urban woodland. Spring is here, so our nighttime fires are becoming fewer and fewer, yet a broken heater motor made the use of fires our salvation last week. The motor on the new HVAC system, which was less than a year old, was replaced without cost to us.
The same wind that pummeled our naked trees dropped so many feet of snow to the north of us, that I felt guilty feeling sad for having to stay inside in our milder winter weeks.
But today it left us and pushed the clouds north leaving behind our first sunny and almost warm day.
I realized that 50 mile-per-hour winds would delay the flying of our osprey. They are amazing and return within three days of St. Patrick's Day here in the USA. Today is St. Patrick's Day. Pinch me...I am married to an Irishman. They should return any day now. First the one and then the other.
Each morning and at lunch and in the evening, I pass the kitchen window and look out carefully across the river to see if they have arrived. I see that their well-engineered nest which they built in the trees across the river a few years ago has survived the winds. They could not move the geese off the platform we built.
The osprey that built a nest on the utility pole at the art museum a few miles away has returned. I heard their call while weeding our children's garden there and my heart jumped a beat.
Our osprey must be on its way. I will have to wait and see if they put sticks on the platform or move back into that awkward collection of sticks in the trees.
It will all depend on how much they want to redecorate, I guess.
Posted by Tabor at 6:52 PM 7 comments:
Wednesday, March 08, 2023
It Is not a Drum Circle
As many years as I have been on this blue jewel of a planet, each season fills me with increased awe. After the quiet of winter, spring starts with its percussion section.
As I sip my coffee in the early morning, I can hear the sound of a deep African drum out in the woods. At least its hollow and penetrating beating sounds like an African drum and carries far from the tree into my living room.
The pileated woodpecker's territorial call is loud and hollow and sounds like a war drum somewhere in the jungles of Africa. It is actually called "drumming" by ornithologists. The bird is native to North America and can weigh almost one pound on the large end of their size. They chip out rather large rectangular holes in search of insects or colonies of ants. The male's drumming is to declare territory and/or call to a mate. Since it is now spring, I hear his drumming every morning. It is a simple rhythm and is very short.
Their excavation can actually destroy a healthy branch of a healthy tree. This is what is happening to a huge oak near my neighbor's house.
The healthy branch in the photo above will fall in the coming months or next year if we get a big storm. One year I actually had a pileated come to my house and look into my patio door as the snow covered the patio. I couldn't find any bugs to offer and I do not know how to speak pileated. Some days I wish I was a witch. I have searched for that photo but it is on some other stored drive. I think I only have 10,000 photos of birds! I do have them organized by season and type, but still, it is a challenge.
Posted by Tabor at 5:07 PM 11 comments:
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