Summer sightings of neighbors

A couple of bucks in velvet wandered across the far fields behind the house yesterday. I managed to get some pictures but not with both raising  their heads at the same time. Still haven't seen any fawns this Summer although the Daughter Person reports she and her spouse have seen a couple on their property.

two bucks in July velvet

Photo by J. Harrington

The Sunrise River pools near County  Highway 36 are very slowly receding to "normal" flow levels. This morning a great blue heron was standing still, neck retracted, looking for its next meal? A week or so ago the water was too deep for heron wading where it was standing today.

Down the road a couple of miles from our place, a red fox dashed across in front of the Jeep this morning, then stopped in a farm house yard to watch us drive past. We slowed to a stop and watched  back until s/he(?) got nervous and bolted off behind the barn. I'd like it a lot if we saw more foxes and/or vixens in the neighborhood.

While doing some outside chores this morning, I checked the bluebird house again to find that the green treefrog had reversed direction but otherwise was in about the same spot inside the house as s/he was a couple of days ago.

what is this? a wasp? what kind?

Photo by J. Harrington

I've not yet managed to identify what I think is some kind of wasp (long, black, needle-like ovipositor?) that was perched on the screens a day or two ago. If you have suggestions on where to look or what it is, feel free to leave a comment.

His Speed and Strength

Alicia Ostriker - 1937-

His speed and strength, which is the strength of ten
years, races me home from the pool.
First I am ahead, Niké, on my bicycle,
no hands, and the Times crossword tucked in my rack,
then he is ahead, the Green Hornet,
buzzing up Witherspoon,
flashing around the corner to Nassau Street.

At noon sharp he demonstrated his neat
one-and-a-half flips off the board:
Oh, brave. Did you see me, he wanted to know.
And I doing my backstroke laps was Juno
Oceanus, then for a while I watched some black
and white boys wrestling and joking, teammates, wet
plums and peaches touching each other as if

it is not necessary to make hate,
as if Whitman was right and there is no death.
A big wind at our backs, it is lovely, the maple boughs
ride up and down like ships. Do you mind
if I take off, he says. I’ll catch you later,
see you, I shout and wave, as he peels
away, pedaling hard, rocket and pilot.

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