Woods
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Bridge to Spring?
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Deer season
The deer were everywhere in the nature preserve where the girls and I took our walk yesterday…
Inquisitive, but not especially easy to spook. It’s bow season right now, and I know some hunters who would have been glad to see them. No hunting in the preserve, though. I think the deer must know.
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Chipmunk
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Tanglewood Trails
We hustled through our schoolwork in the morning and drove to the Tanglewood Nature Center in Elmira yesterday. It was a beautiful sunny day, and we took the trail up to an overlook over the Chemung River Valley.
We spotted two redtails circling over the river, but by the time I got my camera back out, they were high above us.
We ate our lunch there, and I enjoyed reading about Mark Twain’s thoughts on such an experience, posted nearby:
On the way back down we paused at this lower point, and a juvenile eagle soared past at eye level. No pics — but a grand sight.
Of course there were many beautiful perspectives on the trail. We passed through yellow sections, red sections, and conifer sections. I was partial to the golden yesterday — even though “nothing gold can stay.”
The reds were lovely too.
I commented on these bi-colored yellow/red maple leaves, and the kids proceeded to gather specimens.
There were apple trees, and faded pearl crescent butterflies.
We enjoyed the many fossils seen along the trail, too.
When we got back to the bottom, we rested a bit…
…and saw several bluebirds. They were perching in a walnut tree, then swooping down to hawk insects near the ground. It’s always a treat to see our state bird.
I was surprised to see red-winged blackbirds too, plucking and eating the keys from this tree.
On the whole it was a grand way to drink in the sights and smells of autumn.
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Sabbath
Wendell Berry has a whole series of poems called Sabbaths. Accumulated over several decades, they represent his forays into the woods on Sundays — not every Sunday, but a portion of them. Usually we’re in church, but today we went into the woods instead. There is a particular kind of rest, a particular settling and composure, in the solitude of a walk in that setting.The first “wildlife” sighting happened before we even got out of the house: this Carolina wren, who had apparently spent the night in our garage. It was a confident little bird. Maybe it enjoyed the warmth, and whatever bugs it found on the window sills. But when we opened the doors, it paused only to give us a considering glance before flying gracefully away.
Off to the woods, on a morning blanketed in mist.
The moisture in the air made certain usually hidden things visible.
We saw a few deer, but for the most part, it was a time to look closely at the microworlds of mosses and bracket fungus, ferns in their fall stripes, woodpecker work and chipmunks.
My husband was surrounded at one point by small, alarmed rodents, filling the woods with their squeaking.
We were near this stream, a favorite spot, when the sun came out.
It’s interesting to me that although our bird feeding station at home was swarming with birds, the ones in the woods take longer to get up and moving. Maybe they wait for their prey to wake up — not being a welfare state, like our back yard. There were quite a few cardinals, chickadees, robins, nuthatches, hairy woodpeckers, cedar waxwings, Eastern towhees and other birds coming alive and chattering in the trees as we came back out. The gnats were certainly awake as well.
At last — all things come to her who waits — I saw a Tennessee warbler, who scolded me roundly and flew away.
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Signs of fall
Leaves are beginning to crackle underfoot. There is still a green canopy overhead, but the smell of fall is in the air, and there was a freeze warning last night.
The girls and I descended into this lovely gorge for a new perspective on a familiar walk yesterday. We saw this fellow literally “chilling out,” along with several of his friends.
His landlubber pals, tiny toads, were everywhere along the trail, too.
It seems like the summer flew by. I hope to drink in the autumn more fully before it slips away.
There are always surprises if we’re looking.
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Fawn in the ferns
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Round the bend…
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Something there is that doesn’t love a wall
My husband took us for a walk in the woods he played in as a child. There were several of these old stone walls converging in the middle of “nowhere.”
Once, it was “somewhere.” Someone’s fields. Several someones’ fields… Three walls met at this ancient oak, which still had rusted barbed wire emerging from its bark at several points. “Good fences make good neighbors.” Or so one man in Robert Frost’s poem says.
For perspective, here it is with the dog…
How old must it be? It’s lived through many years there — long enough to see at least this group of neighbors building and mending their walls. But now the forest is reclaiming this ground.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast…And yet, something there is that does love a wall, too — loves being reminded of a larger order that we’re all a part of, and loves, always, to be reminded of good poetry and meditation.
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My brother’s woods
My brother took us on a walk through a tract of woodland that had several sections with several different characters. I heard many birds I never saw in the denser areas.
He pointed out lots of clues pointing to the land’s earlier life and uses, and he did a great job getting my daughters to hone their observational skills.
Jack in the pulpit 
Looks like wild lily of the valley, but bigger, and with different leaves 
Red-winged blackbird nest Not all the sights were wildlife…
This guy won my younger daughter’s heart for life.
