Twilight Visitor

Last night, just around dusk, Nancy called us all into the family room that looks out on our backyard so we could see the young Barred Owl that sat perched on the edge of the swing set.  The bird remained there for quite a while, looking around, allowing itself to be checked out by a hummingbird that buzzed around it for several moments, and a pair of nesting Carolina Wrens that emerged from the forest to scold it loudly for coming near their home.  Occasionally the owl made a small screeching noise — kind of a rising, raspy whistle, which sounded nothing like the clear hooting call of adult Barred Owls (“Who cooks for you?!  Who cooks for you, all?!”)  Finally, it flew to the edge of the wood, where it was joined by one of its siblings.  Moments later, they retreated deeper into the forest.  A nice reminder that this was home to birds and deer and all sorts of other creatures before we built our house.  We’ll be looking for the birds again tonight.

A New Neighbor

There’s a Great-horned Owl nest near our house.  You have to walk a short distance to see it — maybe half a mile.  But then you look into an expanse of forest, find the great mass of branches and such in the fork of a large, straight oak tree, and there’s the female, her head visible above the edge of the nest, her tufts — the so-called horns — framed against the sky.  Owls nest earlier than most birds.  Great-horneds nest earlier than most owls.  She’s probably already incubating eggs.  She might even be caring for young.

For those of you who don’t know, Great-horned Owls are probably the most formidable avian hunters in North America.  They’ve been known to take possum, raccoon, skunk, rabbits, domestic cats, other species of owl, Red-tailed Hawks (which aren’t exactly wimpy birds), even Great-blue Herons.  If you’re ever at a natural history museum, check out the Great-horned specimens.  Look at the size of the birds, particularly the females (among birds of prey, the females are almost always the larger of the pair).  Then look at the size of their talons.  They look like they belong on a bobcat….

And this pair is nesting around the corner.  Very cool.

The Lesson of a Good Day

Following up on my promise to myself to get out and do more birdwatching this year, I went to a place called Woods Reservoir today.  It’s a large reservoir about twenty miles from here that is maintained jointly by the U.S. Air Force (Arnold Air Force Base abuts part of the reserve) and the Tennessee Wildlife Management Agency.  It has a good sized nesting population of Bald Eagles and is a wintering ground for a wide variety of duck species.  And so it shouldn’t be tto surprising that in addition to seeing an eagle, I also saw Northern Pintail, Lesser Scaup, Common Goldeneye, Bufflehead, Northern Shoveler, and many pairs of Hooded Merganser, which may be the most beautiful duck in North America.  Here, check out a picture.  Of course, Pintails are beautiful, too.

Anyway, it was a great morning.  I came back energized and wrote seven pages this afternoon.  So often I don’t do something for myself because “I can’t take the time out from my work.”  But I almost always find that after taking the time out to look at birds or take pictures or just go for a walk, I work better, faster, more efficiently.  There’s a lesson there, if only I’m smart enough to take it to heart.

New Year’s Birds

As many of you know, I’m an avid birdwatcher.  But few of you probably understand fully just how much of a bird-geek I am.  So by way of illustration, I offer this:  I keep a list of the birds I see each year, in addition of my life list and some other lists I keep, which I won’t go into here, lest I jettison what small scraps of dignity I have left.  My year lists actually serve several purposes.  First, it’s fun to see how many different species I can see in a given year (yeah, told you I was a geek).  Also, it can serve as a helpful record of when and where I saw certain things. 

But the main reason I do it is that it compels me to pay attention to the more common birds at least once a year.  Birders often focus on finding rarities, on adding new birds to their life lists.  It becomes easy — far too easy — to take the more common stuff for granted.  By keeping my year lists, I make myself go out and search for the common locals that are easily overlooked but well worth finding.  For at least one day each year, I actively look for nuthatches and chickadees, robins and doves.
That’s what I did this afternoon.  It’s cool and breezy here today, but crystal clear.  And I got out for an hour or so, and did some birding.  It’s something I want to do more of this year.  What did I see?  Not a whole lot, but some cool things.  A Cooper’s Hawk, a Brown Thrasher, a Hermit Thrush, several species of sparrow, including Fox, Swamp, Field, and White-throated.  I also saw a pair of bluebirds, some cardinals, and a bunch of other things that I’ll probably see hundreds times between now and the end of the year.  But for today, every bird was exciting; each one was “new” all over again.

Vacations are Good

Still on vacation.  One more full day at the beach and then it’s back home to summer camp and research and writing and swim team, and all the other stuff that makes up our summer.

The beach has been amazing.  Beautiful house, gorgeous weather, a beach with a sand bar, which I LOVE.  Sand bar meaning that about 30 yards from shore there is a second shelf of sand where the water is only about ankle or knee deep.  So you can wade out 60, 70, 80 yards from the shore and still be standing comfortably while the breakers roll by.  Just lovely. 

We’ve found shells and sea glass and sharks’ teeth.  We’ve seen pelicans and terns and sandpipers and ospreys.  We’ve done puzzles and read and played in the waves.  We’ve played miniature golf and had ice cream, and we even managed to track down an aunt and uncle of Nancy’s who none of us had ever met before.  The girls and Nancy are tanned and beautiful.  I’m burned in spots but tanned as well, though not nearly as beautiful.  I am relaxed, though.  More than I’ve been at any time since we left Australia.

A glorious week.

Just Wednesday

Thanks to all for the great comments on yesterday’s post.  Woke up this morning and found that my newly-minted teenager was very much like the child who lived here yesterday and the day before.  One day at a time.  That’s the ticket.

I seem to be in the middle of another good writing week.  I’m making good progress on the book, and more important, I like what I have so far.  I’m even finding time to birdwatch every morning before I sit down to write.   Spring migration is starting to wind down.  We probably have another three or four days, but after that it’ll slow down and we’ll settle into a typical Tennessee summer — hot days, thunderstorms in the late afternoons, muggy nights spent sitting on the porch, listening to the crickets and frogs, watching the lightning bugs.  Sounds good to me.

Sunday Odds and Ends

Yesterday was dance day here in Sewanee.  Both of our daughters, like so many of the young girls here in town, take dance lessons from the university dance instructor and her students.  Yesterday afternoon, they had their recital.  Our girls have both been taking lessons of one sort or another since they were four, so we’re old hands at this now.  Still it’s fun to see them up on stage, and it’s always a hoot to see the newest crop of four year-olds up there, showing off the few ballet moves they’ve learned, their eyes flicking toward the wings where their teacher stands running through the routine with them.

Both of our girls were in two dances:  jazz and tap for the older one, ballet and tap for the younger one.  They did great.  They’ve learned a lot over the years and they both seem to have a knack for dance.  I think it’s been good for them.  They have a sense of balance, of movement, of rhythm that they might not have otherwise.  And when they’re doing other activities – swimming or soccer, for instance — and their coach gives them instruction, they have enough body awareness to put that advice to use.

Last night we went to see the college kids give their recital.  They gave a good performance; the best I can remember, actually.  It was an eclectic mix:  ballet, tap, jazz, hip-hop, swing, modern.  Used to be that I’d watch my girls during the day and the college students at night and take some comfort in noting the distance my kids still had to go to be like the older girls.  This year, not so much.  My older one is growing up fast and looking more and more like the college kids every day.  Scary.  And fun.

Went for a photo shoot this morning.  It was foggy when I left the house a little after eight.  Sunday morning.  The roads were empty save for a lone jogger.  I hiked back down into Shakerag Hollow, where the trout lilies and dutchman’s britches and larkspur are blooming.  The white trillium are starting to open; the purple trillium will be out by the end of the week.  A few warblers were singing, Pileated Woodpeckers were drumming and calling.  The rains we’ve had over the past couple of weeks have filled the streambeds and flooded parts of the trail.  The trees are just beginning to leaf out, but the forest floor is deep green already.  

Great morning.  I got some good photos, which I’m still going through.  I’ll have to get out again during the week.

First Spring Migrants

The first spring migrants (talkin’ birds here) arrived in my yard yesterday.  Several of them, actually.  There were no fewer than four Black-throated Green Warblers singing in the bare oaks surrounding our house, their five note song seesawing with buzzy precision.  Beautiful birds:  bright green on their crowns and backs, golden yellow faces, and jet black spreading from their throats down to their breasts.

A couple of Black-and-white Warblers were singing as well, thin high-pitched notes that for me are the sound of early spring here in the Appalachians.  Black-and-white Warblers are tree climbers, like nuthatches but sleeker, dressed smartly in pinstripes.

And finally, there was a single Blue-headed Vireo (formerly known as the Solitary Vireo) singing from the very top of a white oak.  Vireo song is the avian equivalent of Muzak.  Sweet notes, simple melody, and the birds can be singing for five or ten minutes before you even realize that the sound is there.  Their song blends, provides background for the more dynamic songs of their fellow migrants.  This vireo’s appearance is as unassuming as his song.  The blue of his head is closer to slate than it is to the electric blue of an Eastern Bluebird, and his white eye-rings and lores give him a spectacled appearance.  The warblers are dashing, handsome; the vireo has a geekish look.  This may be why he’s one of my favorites.

Spring migration.  There is no better time of year to be a birder.  These three species are just the beginning; an appetizer, if you will.  In a typical spring I’ll see twenty-five species of warbler, three or four species of vireo, and an assortment of tanagers, orioles, grosbeaks, buntings, flycatchers, and others.  I’ll post my sightings here as the spring progresses.  

And if any of you out there are birders as well, I hope you’ll share your sightings with me.  Happy birding.

Today’s music:  Bruce Cockburn

Tuesday Stuff

One of those days:  errands to take care of, an order to submit for the local coop (which I run), pictures to frame for an upcoming photography exhibit (more on that in a future post), a short story to revise (more on that in a future post).  And so a short blog post.  Just a couple of items:

Saw a pair of wood ducks on the pond near our house yesterday — a sure sign that spring is nearly here.  Beautiful birds — look them up in a book or on the web.  It’s worth the time.  The male is one of the most stunningly colorful ducks we have in North America, but the female, whose plumage is far less showy, is lovely as well. 

Eliot Spitzer.  I like him.  Had I still lived in New York, I would have voted for him in 2006.  But what an idiot.  Why is it that men in power (or out of power, for that matter) have so much trouble keeping their pants zipped?  Should he resign?  I don’t know.  But I have noticed that the same commentators on the right who said that Senator David Vitter (R-Louisiana) should be forgiven for his dalliances with a prostitute, are now saying that Spitzer has to go.  They say hypocrisy is the issue, because Spitzer was such a determined — some would say self-righteous — prosecutor.  To which I respond, Yes, but David Vitter has made a career of claiming to support “family values.”  Who’s the greater hypocrite?

All right; gotta go.

Today’s music:  Johnny A.

A Walk With A Dog

After going on a bit yesterday about how glad I was that I no longer had a dog, I was reminded this morning that dog ownership does have its benefits.  As I mentioned in my previous post, we’re caring for our friends’ dog, Violet, a medium-sized, short-haired mutt. She’s sweet as can be, but because she’s just barely out of puppyhood she has A LOT of energy.  So this morning, instead of going to the gym for my usual workout, I put Violet in the car, drove out to a trailhead at the edge of the plateau, and took her on a hike.