Walks
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Sights and sounds of spring
It was 27 degrees when we got up this morning, but the sky was blue and it was destined to warm up into the seventies. Who wouldn’t take a walk?
Today it was more about sounds than sights: tiny rustlings that turned out to be kinglets, squirrels, cardinals or chipmunks. A distant woodpecker. A faraway wood thrush. The vigorous sound of running water in the thawed creek. I did see some deer, but only for a split second before they fled.
Then I saw a pair of quiet, elusive birds. I wanted to sit still and see if they’d come closer, and behold, there was an inviting bench just to the side of the trail.
It just happened to be near the tree where I got to watch some nesting chickadees a couple of years ago…
It won’t happen again — not in that tree. It was lying beside the trail, fallen over the winter.
But it was neat to get to see the inside of their home. The top of the tree had broken off so the soft nest cavity was visible. I also admired their wall decor.
Finally the other birds came close enough to see. There’s a chance they were oven birds, but I’m pretty sure they were veery. They made no sound so I couldn’t confirm by their voices. But I enjoyed the way they accepted my being there as they hopped around flipping over leaves and looking for breakfast. They’re birds more often heard than seen, so it was a treat.
When I got home we had more excitement: a redtail rose out of the brush beyond our house. A moment later, the leucistic redtail rose up too, and we saw its blazing whiteness as it circled high into the air. We ran outside in our socks to watch, and discovered there was a third redtail — which the white one chased, screaming and seeming to collide with it. It chased it three or four miles away and then turned, tucked its wings, and sped back at incredible speed. What would have been a ten minute drive took about 15 seconds. I guessed it was a male, defending its nesting territory and and its mate.
I got some awesome pictures, but you’ll have to take my word for it, because after I had excitedly snapped them I got inside and my camera informed me there was no card inserted. I had taken it out to download the pics from my walk! None of my pictures were saved.
Fortunately my daughter got a few pics with her point and shoot, and she says it’s okay if I share them.
It was an amazing sight! I’m hoping for another chance — but meantime, it’s thrilling to have the memory.
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Spring Thaw
It was in the 60’s, the snow was melting, and the sun was out. We decided to head out and see what the woods looked like on such a welcome spring day.
A stop at the vernal pool didn’t seem like it would be too promising. But despite the ice…
…I saw the first tadpole of the year.
There’s something incongruous about the stealth of such a plump fellow darting along in his underwater world. I was glad to see him.
He wasn’t the only one enjoying the water. A big snapping turtle was floating on the pond, bleary-eyed. There were many ducks around the area, and I wondered if they realized he was there. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him if I was a duck.
We took our dog Lucy. She had a blast, of course.
We certainly appreciated her supervision playing in the stream. Where would we be without someone to catch every splash?
But I felt an unexpected sadness, remembering how our old dog, Katie, who died over a year ago, used to love coming here too. I remembered how we had to leave her at home toward the end because she was so unwell, and she’d stand at the back window and watch us drive away. Memories are a part of these familiar places. Rest in peace, Katie.
We needed the warmth and sun, and we saw a number of other people out and about in the woods too. All of us are ready for the snow to be gone — even though it means the season of mud begins. It was good to be out and feel the balminess and promise of spring.
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Tracks
Winter reveals secrets: nests hidden in summer, wasp nests, holes in the ground no longer covered by long grass.
And tracks. Especially along frozen streams.
Today in this spot we saw what must have been muskrat tracks — small feet with a tail-dragging mark between. They came up over the edge of the bank, meandered in a circle on the grass, then dropped back over the bank. There was a little dirt slide that led right down into one of those slats between sheets of ice and the bank.
These tracks suggest a squirrel and a crow taking a walk together, but probably the crow came later.
I once watched a squirrel carefully bury a nut in our back yard. Just after he left a crow landed, dug it up, and carried it away. I think the crows watch for the squirrels and investigate.
We saw several of these spots today, where crows had landed and dug at something. There were some dried seed pods around, so maybe that’s what they were after.
Mouse trails show up well too. They must hop pretty high to leave such perfect imprints, complete with little tail marks.
Then there are the tracks left by juvenile homo sapiens — my kids, who like to write in the snow with sticks.
Winter crop circles. Or Nazca lines. We humans, unlike all these tough little barefoot animals, have the luxury of boots and can make gratuitous marks in the snow. Maybe next time we can draw something spectacular. Till then it’s the tried and true.
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Winter trails
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Winter’s understatement
These pictures were actually taken back in December — I just haven’t gotten around to posting them. They capture a beauty unique to winter with its pristine paleness.
The frost seems to emphasize the outlines of things, from grass to dead leaves. And somehow, the reflections seem sharper.
Textures and colors stand out in a way that fails to attract attention in the green busyness of summer.
I know it was December, but what I think of is John Updike’s poem about November extolling “the beauty of the bone.” Winter lasts longer than I’d like where I live, but it does something for me.
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What hawks see
These redtails are all over the place in the winter. I’m not sure if it’s just that they’re easier to see when the leaves are down, or if they come out of the deeper woods in winter as I’ve read.
I’ve wondered before: what makes them choose a given perch? Do they see evidence of mice, and simply wait for an opportunity? Or is it more random?
Today on a walk in the park I saw what looked like veins under the snow: mouse tunnels become visible as the upper layer of snow melts? That’s my guess.
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November Light
We took a windy walk today. Most of the leaves were down, and the wind blew them up into numerous eddies. I wish I could capture wind and whirling leaves in photos, but…
The other factor was the light. I love the brightness of November sun, and it was truly squintworthy today.
The only leaves left are a few brown and red oak leaves, and these golden leaves.
At one point, I stepped off the trail to photograph an evergreen grove — and discovered a deer.
She saw us but kept foraging, close to the ground. Then, she decided to lie down for a midafternoon nap.
Hope she stays in the preserve for deer season. We said goodbye… then I took my tree picture.
We didn’t see many animals, but we had the woods to ourselves and enjoyed the unsettled feeling of the tossing trees and the sound of wind.
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Stairway
Our run of lovely weather seems to have ended for now. It was overcast today, and rain is in the forecast. But yesterday was a different story.
We entered a favorite trail by the boardwalk helpfully marked with a white stripe — but the leaves nearly obscured it altogether.
We walked to the bottom of what’s usually a small waterfall, but it’s been so dry we were able to do something we’ve never done before: we climbed the falls like stairs.
The stream bed made a nice trail and provided lots of opportunity to admire the leaves and reflections.
Acorns and other nuts were falling, and the chipmunks were scurrying everywhere on the steep banks gathering them. They blend in well with the leaves, but once in awhile one held still long enough for a picture.
Other than that, we didn’t see any wildlife, other than a few warblers up too high to identify. I consoled myself as we walked along this stretch of trail by remembering all the animals I’d seen here before…
…brown creepers in early spring, yellow-rumped warblers in fall, black and white warblers and oven birds in summer, deer, salamanders, even a tiny fawn just off to the left a few years ago. It was a joy to have these memories return as we walked the familiar path.
The trail ends at a meadow with a nice view of distant hills.
We weren’t the only ones enjoying the day. There were other people in the woods, all of us with the same idea of how best to appreciate October’s bright blue weather.
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Sunday stroll
The leaves are nowhere near their peak, but that’s not to say there isn’t plenty of fall color. The light has that special fall look, too — somehow brighter and more merciless. I’m not sure why that word comes to mind, but it does.
It makes for more brilliant reflections on water, where it’s hard to tell where the real ends and the reflection begins.
We enjoyed a sunbathed walk yesterday along paths that invited reflection of a different kind.
It’s always amazing to me when the eye falls on something as tiny as this toad among the heights and colors of the forest.
So many places for little things to hide….
…and the animals are taking on their winter colors. This young deer blended in so well it didn’t even bother to run away.
We walked a little further and met another. They were both from this spring’s batch of fawns, I’m guessing, and they were very unwary.
This one walked up to us, curious and utterly innocent.
It came within 8 feet to check us out.
Finally it figured out that we weren’t familiar or promising, and bounded away down the trail.
I’ve never been approached that closely by a deer before. Hopefully this youngster wouldn’t be so slow to react to a coyote!
It was a lovely day for a walk, and this encounter was definitely a highlight.
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The falls in fall
Most of these are photos of familiar scenes. Because I’ve already taken lots of pictures here, I played with photo effects to frame the scenes or give them an added interest.
Not that this natural setting needs help… It’s a place of endless interest to me.
So many interesting curves and staircases…
…and so many interesting waterworks.
Even the puddles are interesting.
Everyone with me found it exhilarating as usual — human and non-human alike.
