The Ides of March bring a stunning surprise to... #phenology

On the Ides of March, the red-winged blackbirds are back! They were seen perched on branches and telephone wires around the local marshes this morning. I know this because I'm the one who saw them. I also noticed that the willows are becoming brighter yellow these days and many wetland bushes and shrubs are turning redderer and redderer. It's a treat to see colors returning to the countryside. Although, seeing some green leaves emerge on the (UPDATE: store-bought, cut) forsythia branches was, in some ways, even more satisfying than enjoying the yellow blossoms.

recent arrival, red-winged blackbird

Photo by J. Harrington

Trumpeter swans, Canada geese and some black and white diving ducks (probably common goldeneye) are still paddling around the open waters of the Sunrise River but I haven't yet seen sandhill cranes in the fields or wetlands this Spring. Some day soon, no doubt, some day soon, they'll appear when I least expect them. Maybe they're waiting for more snow and ice to melt. Food might be pretty sparse until more frogs and snakes are active again and plant shoots start to green up. Stay tuned.

only slightly stunned female hairy woodpecker

Photo by J. Harrington

Earlier this month, when we had that extended spell of warm weather, we stopped refilling the suet feeder. The hairy and downy woodpeckers responded by feeding from the sunflower seed feeders, particularly the one in front of the house, where they can perch on the wire mesh. Today, as this was being written, a female hairy woodpecker flew into a window, completely undeterred by the curtains hanging behind the glass. Apparently, no one warned her to "Beware the Ides of March!" The Son-In-Law heard the thump, went outside, picked up the bird, placed her in a protective box and carried the box through the house to put it on the rear deck, away from all but the most intrepid predators. We're delighted to report that, a short time later, the occupant of the box recovered and flew away with no apparent harm done. It did occur to me that, back in the bad old days, when screens were hung on the outside of windows, birds might have had a less traumatic life. Then again, at this time of year, it's probable that storm windows, instead of screens, would probably still be hung and the collision might not have been heard. Does life ever seem that way to you? Six of one, half a dozen of the other? Especially on the Ides of March.

[Sleeping sister of a farther sky]

By Karen Volkman

Sleeping sister of a farther sky,

dropped from zenith like a tender tone,

the lucid apex of a scale unknown

whose whitest whisper is an opaque cry

of measureless frequency, the spectral sigh

you breath, bright hydrogen and brighter zone

of fissured carbon, consummated moan

and ceaseless rapture of a brilliant why.

Will nothing wake you from your livid rest?

Essence of ether and astral stone

the stunned polarities your substance weaves

in one bright making, like a dream of leaves

in the tree’s mind, summered. Or as a brooding bone

roots constellations in the body’s nest.

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.

Eve of the Ides report #phenology

Happy Pi Day! It's also the Eve of the Ides of March, a day when, once again, South-facing, sunny slopes are mostly snow free, even though the temperature's only in the mid-twenties. The local pond was partly open water exactly two years ago, and is entirely covered with ice and snow today. Oak and maple buds are swelling slowly, but I've not yet noticed any signs of bud burst. I suspect Spring transition activity will resume, and maybe pick up its pace, with the return of warmer weather, forecast for late this week into the weekend.

open water, March 14, 2014

Photo by J. Harrington

From time to time you may have read in these postings fusses and fumes, rants and raves, about the #*@%! pocket gophers and the damage they've done by eating the roots of most of the fruit trees we've planted over the years. As the recent snow fall was just beginning, it highlighted the gopher mounds left as they excavate their underground tunnels. Lord, do I wish there were more bullsnakes living around here. Maybe this year, as they come out of hibernation (brumation) a few more will decide to stick around and help thin out the pocket gopher population here.

a fieldful of pocket gopher mounds

Photo by J. Harrington

As a fallback, come warmer weather and thawed ground, I'll probably once again drive myself to frustration with unsuccessful attempts to trap the critters making all those dots. I've tried it in the past and rarely am I able to set the traps in an active tunnel. Hence the wish for more reptilian predators of pocket gophers. I've read enough Zen over the years to try to take a live and let live approach. Then a mouse will make a nest in the pocket of one of my favorite cardigans, and out come the mouse traps. Gopher mounds make cutting grass difficult to impossible (the phrase mowing lawn doesn't really fit much of our property). The mounds can be raked or harrowed level, but that's more reasonably accomplished if there are many fewer mounds, which requires fewer gophers.

Carrying The Snake To The Garden

by Mary Oliver

In the cellar
was the smallest snake
I have ever seen.
It coiled itself
in a corner
and watched me
with eyes
like two little stars
set into coal,
and a tail
that quivered.
One step
of my foot
and it fled
like a running shoelace,
but a scoop of the wrist
and I had it
in my hand.
I was sorry
for the fear,
so I hurried
upstairs and out the kitchen door
to the warm grass
and the sunlight
and the garden.
It turned and turned
in my hand
but when I put it down
it didn't move.
I thought
it was going to flow
up my leg
and into my pocket.
I thought, for a moment,
as it lifted it's face,
it was going to sing.

And then it was gone.

********************************************
Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.