-
Serenity Wood
April 27 was clear and warm, so I ventured into the Serenity Wood to check out the sights and sounds of spring. The initial trail up through a meadow was muddy and full of bushes, from which a blue-winged warbler mocked me with its raspberry call as it successfully hid from me. In this same meadow, I got a good picture of him — or perhaps his father or grandfather — back in 2013, so I was glad to grant him his privacy and move on to the woods.
Along with the opening leaves, a few tiny flowers were pushing up on the forest floor.
Wood Anemone 
Bluet 
I paused to remember photos taken on this bench with my daughters, as well as brown creepers and yellow-rumped warblers we’ve seen in the trees lining this path in previous springs.
Down the hill and to the left, I turned in to the Tree Tunnel, so named by my youngest on our first walk here years ago. It’s dimmer, and to me slightly ominous, when fully leafed out; I like it best in spring, with the fresh, bright green of opening leaves and the light coming in.
From there, I turned and descended to a little bridge over this creek, where two chipmunks chased one another at dizzying speed over this tree that fell across the stream years ago and now seems to have anchored to both banks.
May Apples were sprouting everywhere. The ground was literally carpeted with them. In later May they’ll sport lovely white flowers under those umbrellas.
Many trees were toppled. I don’t remember it being a windy winter overall, but we did have a few very windy days, and they seem to have had a dramatic effect. (Maybe that accounts for so many May Apples — less leaf canopy = more sunlight.)
This one was covered with “wormoglyphics,” as my daughters used to call the exposed worm tracks beneath the bark.
It certainly does have the appearance of mysterious writing!
I walked on along the gorge, listening to the stream and surveying more fallen trees on the banks.
A pair of oven birds flitted worriedly around me, calling out “Teacher teacher TEACHER TEACHER TEACHER TEACHER TEACHER!!!“ I took a few fern photos and moved on.
Just before getting to this boardwalk I met two other walkers. We greeted each other, and as I walked on I heard one say to the other, “Nature is… dirty.” True enough! By this point my shoes were coated with mud, and I was glad to stump along on dry wood for awhile, following this runway back to the parking area.
-
First Walk of Spring
It was April 17, and wetter than I expected, but the overcast was beginning to clear.
It’s always a delight to find color and texture after the long, monochrome palette of winter.
This stump is a study in change. It’s the same one I photographed in this post.
This preserve has a healthy population of large spotted salamanders. They close some of the roads so the salamanders can cross them — mostly at night, I think — in safety. When I got to the vernal pool, I found myself really hoping I might finally see one, but no. Just this fine fellow and his friends.
Lucy dislikes the boardwalk because it often results in long waits while her humans take pictures and exclaim over things they see. On this day we didn’t linger, though.
Once I saw this turtle, I started noticing them everywhere. There were a few tree swallows swooping over the water, as well as a phoebe observing us from a nearby branch.
All in all it was a lovely inauguration of the spring walking season.
-
Forest Charles
He’s back: the enormous woodchuck we named Forest Charles because his bulk suggested the need for a more distinguished handle.
We spotted him first a few years ago, when he fell from a tree he was climbing. The earth trembled.
He’s a canny fellow, munching watchfully in the early morning. I’m convinced he can see me through the window when I point the camera at him, because he’s over the bank on a flash. How he stayed this large while hibernating I don’t know, but he’s making up for lost time among the weeds at the back edge of the yard. He seems to prefer weeds to garden fare, and he’s more than welcome to them.
-
Housekeeping
I happened to catch sight of Mrs. Flicker doing some housekeeping after excavating her nest. She began with a critical appraisal from the outside…
Then, she ducked in…
. . . all the way in . . .
. . . and then emerged with a mouthful of shavings in her beak. She released them, but it was a windy day, so I could see the shavings blow away over her left shoulder.
She worked at it for awhile, bringing out several loads of litter. I suppose the interior is all ready for some eggs now — and she’s ready for a cozy rest incubating them!
-
Spring Construction
A pair of flickers is making a nest cavity in the brush behind our house.
It’s hot out, but the female is working steadily, pausing periodically to call for her mate.
She’s quite beautiful. It’s one of the upsides to having dead trees that the birds can use them like this… even though sometimes it’s easier not to know. That way we aren’t as aware of the many difficulties they face: red squirrels, blue jays, Cooper’s hawks, snakes.
I wish them well!
-
Mrs P
We’ve had a pileated woodpecker visit the suet cake on our feeder a time or two before. Since they’re huge in comparison to the downy, hairy, and red-bellied woodpeckers that make up our usual customer base, they make a dramatic entrance and always bring an air of novelty.
This year, however, we have a suet addict. This female pileated has been coming several times a day. I’m not sure why. Has another food source become scarce? Or does she just adore the high-concentration yumminess of suet?
-
November Splendor
I’m engaging in a personal restoration project. For some reason, I can drift away from the things that bring me joy: walks, photography, playing the piano, journaling, even reading for pleasure. When I finished my master’s thesis years ago, I recall coming out of the exam and thinking, “I don’t have to study. Now I can do whatever I want!” But this was immediately followed by a sense of blank. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do!
It’s easy to sink into the daily routines and “tyranny of the urgent” and forget what energizes us. I’m trying to climb back out of such a place by incorporating those simple pleasures. Yesterday I took a walk at a nearby park, and even though the world seems barren and colorless in this season, I was reminded that beauty remains — and what color there is, is more potent against its largely monochromatic surroundings.
The gathering of trees to the left has always been in flux. It’s in a low spot and often floods; the trees’ shallow root systems have yielded a number of the company over time, as the stumps attest.
But it’s still lovely. The girls and I dubbed it “Buttercup Hollow” one spring years ago, but an entish name would be equally appropriate.
Dead leaves, rust-colored brush and bare trees. . . yet against the chilly blue sky, it doesn’t look blah. The subtle shades and textures are highlighted.
Lucy, in constant motion and always interested in the odors, is in her element. She’s getting older too — just turned 12 — but she’s still always ready for an outing.
The stream brings back memories of my children searching for crayfish, minnows, and rocks to throw for the dog — as well as one homemade boat that was tested in this stream.
I wouldn’t want to go in today!
The fallen tree to the left is new and serves as a reminder that the elements of any natural scene are temporary. But the overall impression isn’t of death, but serene beauty.
This trail is marked by plantings. We helped put in a few of them at this park when the girls were in 4H. They’re supposed to prevent erosion, and some of them seem to flourish. But I’ve never seen them freed from their little green tubes! Who’s allowed to take them off? Who decides when?
Still, they provide a neat border, as well as define a yellow-brick-road style path inscribed on the landscape. We followed it out to the end of our “little explore.”
-
Where’s Waldo, Woodland Version
There are many tiny things to notice on walks — like this tiny frog. Things you don’t see unless you’re looking.
Damselfly The thing is to be attentively present. . . What is to be known is always there. When it reveals itself to you, or when you come upon it, it is by chance. The only condition is your being there and being watchful. (Wendell Berry, “The Long-Legged House”)
Carolina Wren -
Porcupine
At first glimpse, it looked like a huge nest – a large, dark, plump blob high in a tree… yet shaped like an animal.
But a second look (with the telephoto lens) revealed it to be a porcupine!
It’s the first I’ve ever seen in the wild.
-
Hummingbird Moth
This week, I saw a hummingbird moth in my flower garden. I was watering and didn’t have a camera, and I’ve been hoping to see it again.
I haven’t. But yesterday, as my daughter and I started out on a walk at a nearby preserve, we saw not one but TWO of these amazing creatures. This time, I had my camera.
