Walks
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Autumn sights
We’re past the peak for fall color, and as the season mellows, other quieter beauties emerge.
November is coming, when Northeasterners hunker down for the long winter’s deprivation of color. I like to prepare myself with John Updike’s poem about November in A Child’s Calendar:
The stripped and shapely
Maple grieves
The loss of her
Departed leaves.The ground is hard,
As hard as stone.
The year is old,
The birds are flown.And yet the world,
Nevertheless,
Displays a certain
Loveliness –The beauty of the bone.
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Scavenger Hunt
Yesterday we finished our book work early, so we took a woodland scavenger hunt from this book and headed out into a sunny fall day to see what we could see.
The first task was to find “something older than yourself.” Not too difficult in a forest! There were numerous good-sized trees around, as well as plenty of snags and blow-downs.
How about “something smaller than your thumb”? The blooms on this white flower (yarrow?), one of the few hardies to have withstood the recent frost, fits the bill.
Older Daughter also thought of berries, which a flock of migrating robins were munching on.
Along with the dragonflies, white-throated sparrows, red-bellied woodpeckers and chickadees, the robins satisfy the third challenge: “something that flies.”
I saw the first robin of spring at this preserve, and I’m guessing these may be the last robins of fall. All were dull-colored, and travelling together in a group. At one point we counted seven in the same bush — though it was hard to get a clear view. They flapped and fluttered and clucked and shook the leaves, and generally gave every impression of wary and purposeful activity.
Next comes “something taller than you.” Easy enough: trees, as well as the hillside.
“Something that needs air.” Hmm. It would be harder to find something that doesn’t need air! How about humans for this one?
“Something younger than yourself.” Virtually all the leaves, dying in a blaze of glory after a few months…
“Something that makes you laugh.”
This guy squealed and ran from my daughters, only to find himself a yard from me before freezing in horrified indecision.
“Something that is important.” Water…
“Something that you have never seen before.” A new path, though I have no pics. It delighted us all.
“Something with a smell.” Again, no pics, but autumn has a smell all its own. I suppose it must be decay, but I think of it simply as “fall smell.”
Last, “something with spots.”
Gorgeous day, satisfying sights, time together.
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October’s bright blue weather
This morning it was in the mid-twenties after the first serious frost. The beauty of the woods warranted quoting a line from this poem in my title. The only line I dispute is the one about “leaves sinking noiselessly.” They rattle ceaselessly, actually, making it sound like the woods are trying to flutter up and away en masse before the snow falls.
The yellow-rumped warblers were coming through, snatching bugs from leaves and branches.
I heard a whole flock of crows sounding the alarm about something, but aside from the warblers and a few chickadees, I didn’t see much.
I investigated a trail I haven’t walked in awhile and discovered it was almost impassable because of the uprooted trees, courtesy of a strong storm maybe a month ago. It was interesting to try to trace the path of one particularly large oak that had torn limbs off one tree and knocked over another on its way down. It lived a life of influence — and died the same way.
There’s a certain quality of brightness to the fall sunshine that I look forward to. I think of Wendell Berry’s line of poetry in “Clearing” about vision with “severity at its edge.” That’s what the light reminds me of this season — it makes things starker and reveals the contrasts.
I need the seasons.
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Autumn state of mind
The woods are so much quieter now than they were in the spring and early summer that it’s easy to lose the sense of expectation. But it’s a good exercise in faith to remain attentive; invariably we are rewarded with wonders large and small.
It was a little eerie on a recent walk in Ithaca. My husband and daughters and I were coming to the end of a stroll on an overcast day when our paths intersected with some characteristically cheerful sounding chickadees. My daughter, the bird-whisperer, sounded her chickadee call to attract them, and it seemed they were responding with more and more vocalization. Then we rounded a corner and saw the silent silhouette of a hawk.
No doubt the chickadees were sounding the alarm. It may have been the redtail that haunts Sapsucker Woods, but it seemed a little small for a redtail. My guess is it was a broadwing. It clutched a chipmunk in its talons.
How typical of us humans to think that we were controlling the scene, when all along a life and death drama that had nothing to do with us was playing itself out.
Another hawk has been making unwelcome appearances in our area: a Cooper’s hawk. Our feeder is situated next to an evergreen so that the birds have cover, but I think this hawk is attracted by the busy chatter of the goldfinches and the two or three chipmunks who feed on the ground beneath. We haven’t seen it successfully catch anything yet, but here it is perched in the middle of the food court.
No wonder the chipmunks hide!
See it in the log? I’ve seen some tiny warblers in recent walks in the woods, but few have rewarded me with photo-ops. I did manage to get a shot of this one, tentatively identified as a Nashville warbler.
It was a treat to see this red-eyed vireo feeding with some chickadees, too. Vireos are so much more easy to hear than to see; they are so like the leaves themselves.
The white-throated sparrows are coming through on their way southward. We have four or five of them hanging around our yard this week, but this one was spotted in a nearby preserve.
Last but not least, the deer have been everywhere, and they have actually seemed to pose for me.
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Summer sightings
Today on the way out of a park, Younger Daughter and I stopped to scrape a dead oriole off the road and place it in a shady bed of clover off to the side. It was our small acknowledgment of beauty utterly wasted.
But as Ma in the Little House books is fond of saying, there’s no loss without some small gain. Glancing up as we walked back to the car, we spotted some cliff swallow nests on the bridge over the river.
There were several of them along the bridge’s eaves. We’ll have fun watching their story unfold.
Younger Daughter loves streams, and while she played in the water I puttered on the edge with my camera.
A meadow fritillary, I think — about 2 inches across with wings open. 
One of several watchful song sparrows. 
I believe this is mayweed, based on the leaves thin “yarrow-like” leaves. All in all a very nice time together. Younger Daughter caught minnows and threw rocks for the dog while I wandered and sweated. I’m not at my best when it’s in the nineties out, but I felt rewarded by these beauties.
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June 23, 2012 Morning Sights
Red eft 
Black-eyed Susan 
Fern fairyland 
Chestnut-sided warbler 
Female yellow warbler? 
Robin, nesting quietly 
Robin fledgling in the same bush 
Yellow warbler 
Tree tunnel Also seen: Eastern towhee, Baltimore oriole, house wrens, blue jays, oven birds, deer, chipmunks, common yellowthroats, rabbits, woodchucks, toads, pearl crescent and least skipper butterflies.
Heard: Deer, woodthrushes
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June 21, 2012 — Walk
Least skipper moth 
Green frog 
Nosy woodchucks 
Damselfly (bluet?) laying eggs 
Baby pine forest 
Why couldn’t I get the focus right on this little showman? 
Lady Catbird 
Plumpkin Specklebreast — a juvie robin 
Daisy among the chokecherries -
Impromptu Lesson
My daughter and I went to a popular walking trail last night, looking for warblers. We saw a few interesting birds, and on the way in we also saw this painted turtle out in the open.
There are wetlands all around the trail, so we didn’t think much of it. We figured it was crossing the trail to find a spot lay eggs. But on the way back, a couple were seated on the grass beside the turtle, and they told us that she was laying eggs.
Indeed she was — or rather, preparing to. It was a neat experience to watch her laboriously digging the hole with her hind legs.
We’ve read that turtles lay eggs, but it was a very different experience to watch her in action for awhile. She would scrape deeply with one leg, shift, scrape deeply with the other, and then moisten the cavity periodically with her own fluids. She was intent on her work and completely undaunted by the four spectators she had accumulated.
We observed her for 10 minutes or so, then went on our way. This morning, I went running down at the same trail, and when I checked the spot it looked like this.
Why did she choose that spot — in mown grass along a paved trail, in not-particularly-moist ground? Presumably the eggs are below-ground, 5-10 cm according to what I read this morning. Sometimes painted turtles dig “false nests” before settling on the site where they actually lay their eggs, but without digging in myself I’ll never know. She certainly had done some serious excavation and turned up all those small stones.
Apparently the eggs will hatch in August or September, and the baby turtles may not come out, but may arrange themselves symmetrically in the nest and winter there. We won’t expect any juvenile turtle sightings anytime soon! But what good moment to have passed by.
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Celebrity Herons
We went to Sapsucker Woods the other day and saw the bowl-full-of teenagers (a.k.a. herons’ nest) chatting and looking around out in the pond.
Then we noticed what they were viewing from their balcony seats. Down in the pond, one of the adult herons looked to the right…
…and looked to the left…
…and looked at us.
"Oh goody. Another photographer." So very patient. We waited and watched and were eventually reminded that all things come to those who wait.
In addition to its children watching from the nest, there is a dragonfly watching the whole show in the right foreground. Someone else was watching, too.
Who was in his turn being observed by others…
Frog Paparazzi One of the funniest things I saw was a frog literally racing across the lily pads directly in front of the hunting heron. I saw at least two frogs do this. Were they adolescents daring one another to ring the doorbell of their grumpy neighbor? The stakes were pretty high for the frogs! But apparently the heron had an appetite for fish.
While watching the heron, several different dragonflies demanded our attention as well. There were this one,
this one,
this one,
and these two shameless exhibitionists. The female is laying eggs, we guessed.
We heard many more birds than we saw. But this is a new one for me, a great crested flycatcher.
The other new sighting for me was a pair of American redstarts. I’ve seen the male before, but not the female.
We were very hot by the time our stroll ended, so we ate the lunch we’d brought and drank gallons of water before heading back home. Older Daughter enjoyed the heron fishing the most, Younger Daughter liked the frogs, and I liked the redstarts. So there was something for everyone and more besides — as usual!
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Serenity Wood
I took a walk today in a favorite place called the Serenity Wood. It was very hot, and I saw many things as I explored woods and meadows: yellow-throats, house wrens, an eastern towhee, a Baltimore oriole. There were deer tracks, coyote tracks, and raccoon tracks in the mud. Robins and sparrows and yellow warblers and chestnut-sided warblers hopped among the leaves. And there were catbirds — always catbirds.
I heard a brown thrasher at one point, and later on I thought this bird, startled up out of the grass beside the trail, was a thrasher. But it was quiet, and it had a shorter tail. I think it was a wood thrush, nesting in the grass. I was delighted to make her acquaintance!
*Edited to add: I’m thinking it may be more likely that this is a hermit thrush, because of the striping on the throat. Very pleased to meet this beautiful songster!
This tiny pearl crescent butterfly was a welcome sight too. Exquisite.
Not everyone is so picturesque, of course. And though the woods were full of noise — squeaking chipmunks, an ovenbird, red-eyed vireos, rustling leaves — some were in a more quiet, meditative mood.
He owes me a smile for not stepping on him as he lay there in the middle of the trail. No gratitude. (It must be confessed: I like toads. As a child I would spend whole afternoons collecting them in coffee cans, then let them all go at the end of the day. I was certain they recognized me as their benefactress.)
I saw the fawn I had the close encounter with last week, too. It might have been a different one, but I prefer to think it’s the same one, developing on schedule. Unbeknownst to me, I was standing right next to it in the trail; it was in the long grass beside me. I didn’t realize it till I gave up on trying to take a picture of the towhee, and took a step. The little fawn thrashed to its feet and disappeared into the brush with a flick of its tail. I was glad… I want it to know enough to run from strange critters like humans.
It was a nice, leisurely walk — perfect outing for a Sunday afternoon.
Yellow-striped hunter
