All Gone

On Sunday, this was the poop crusted nest. I guess these conditions don’t bother them.

“Quick come here, wear shoes,” my husband calls to me as he sticks his head into the house. Quickly I leave my desk and grab my shoes as I hustle into the garage. He leads me around the side of the house. I now know this must have something to do with the infant wrens that have been living in the spruce. Unfortunately, he didn’t say bring your camera. My phone is sitting on my desk. So if this is a fleeting moment, I will only be able to describe it with words. Mentally I am fussing at myself for not grabbing some device. (FYI, it is now Thursday)

However, it is not a fleeting moment. I have time to get back into the house for the camera. In fact I have about twenty hours to record this sight. There on one slim branch of the spruce is one of the babies.

“I’m not looking at her!”

I stay back and employ the zoom feature of the camera. I do not want to be responsible for startling this young wren and making it lose its grip on the branch. Its back is to me, as I try to angle and get a close shot of this petrified baby bird. Or is it a teenager now?

Overhead mama is having a fit. She flits from one roof to the next with nonstop squawking . Let’s just imagine we can translate, I’m thinking she is saying: “Don’t let go! Lady, get away from my baby! What do you think you are doing? This is a training session you are interrupting! Go back into your house! Leave us alone! Close your eyes baby! Don’t look down! Step away from the tree, no, not you baby! If I was braver, I’d peck your head and push you away! Why, why, why?” There were probably additional words which I won’t print here too.

She must be able to chirp with her beak closed, because she was having a fit over my presence.

After I took a few photos, I returned to the house so mama could calm down and continue with her lesson. Several more times during the afternoon and in the evening, I went out to check on the baby. It was still hanging on to that same branch but it had turned around. Unfortunately it rained a bit in the afternoon. So in the morning, it looked quite plump. However, after rain soaked the feathers, it looked considerably smaller and more pathetic. It continues to keep its eyes closed. The theory must be, if I can’t see you, you can’t see me.

This poor chick did not know to get out of the rain. So now it looks much thinner.

In the morning I went out to get the paper, but I took a quick peek down the side of the house. Believe it or not, it was still clinging to the branch. Poor little wren! What a miserable night it must have had! Later I checked on it and this time it was no where to be found. All that was left was a very poop covered branch. (I’ll let you imagine this one.)

In the beginning, there were five eggs, but I think only three hatched. I don’t know when the others flew the nest, but no one is home now. Sigh! How quickly they grow up and leave the nest!

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Little of This, Some of That

First off, last week I forgot to give an update of my chirping side neighbors. I had not spied on the babies for several days because the weather had turned chilly and I did not want mama to fly leaving her chicks to face the cold alone. Saturday they were quite chatty. I could hear them chirping away as I watched my husband pulling out the pansies under the sand cherry tree. Stealthily I approached the spruce tree, however mama zoomed away quickly. The chattering quickly died as I parted the limbs. They became still as statutes while they fastened their beady eyes on me.That nest is very crowded, so as soon as they can break free, they will be gone. It must be quite the balancing act when mama is home too.

Apparently we have quite the nursery within our vegetation. Aren’t these photo the saddest sight? My husband thinks there is a nest in the honeysuckle vine that drapes over our fence. I looked but could not locate it. We left for dinner, so I checked to see if it was still there when we returned. No sign of this chick.

So you’ve read a little of this, now it’s time for some of that. River birch trees are incredibly interesting with its peeling bark. Last week I wrote about how the river birch altered its growing to avoid the roof. This week I must tell you about the seed cone of this tree. They hang like tassels flinging their pollen in the wind. Everything, I mean everything takes on a greenish-yellow cast. Once the pollen has left, the seed cone drops. We call these seed cones worms, because that’s what they look like as they hang in the tree and on the ground.

Recently we had quite a bit of rain. All drain spouts were awash in the “worms” of the birch. They lay on the concrete like dried worm carcasses. As I gazed up through the vivid green leaves to the brilliant blue sky, I noticed most of the tassels were gone. Thank goodness! Now we can get back to enjoying the beauty of the tree.

These “worm” were scooped out of the drain to the left. Yuk!

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How Did It Know?

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How do branches know where to grow? This is the question that puzzled me one day as I observed a tree in my backyard.

It is a river birch tree set in the corner near the house. There are three trunks, two that grow straight and tall, but this one came close to the roof and as it grew it shifted. It continued to shift until it passed the corner of the roof, then it continued on its straight and narrow path. It never touched the house with the trunk. How did it know to be slightly out of reach of the roof? Why didn’t it grow and hit the roof?

This got me to looking as I walked along my usual road.

Why did this trunk all of a sudden bend to the right, there was not a single thing around it. Why did it do this?

Like a snake it slithered up from the trunk. It found its way around this object from man. It continued to wind and creep its way to the top of the pole. How did it know that it could grow all around and continue?

Branches reach out to hug some unseen presence while the trunk of its neighbor zigzags its way, creating a dance as it moves up.

A friend sent me a photo of a tree she walks by. She said this tree is navigating life as it twists and turns. How does it know when to twist?

Evolution of Spring

I hesitate to revisit the topic of spring since every time I think spring is here to stay the temperatures plunge. Spring seems to be playing hide and seek this year. Just when it seems safe to bring out the capri pants, I find myself reaching for the turtleneck sweater to ward off the chill. However, we have had a few warm days where I’ve been able to pedal down the road. As I pedal, my mind wanders as I take note of the landscape.

I’ve been thinking about the book Twelve Kinds of Ice by Ellen Obed. I love how seamlessly she wove the story relating it to the various types of ice. I wondered if there was something I could write like that. That’s when I woke up to the changing scenery. So here is my version of Eighteen Kinds of Blooms.

The world of nature sleeps during the winter, gathering its energy to make a statement when spring returns. Slowly the ground thaws to allow the crocus and grape hyacinth to peek through the khaki colored grass. They are the first bits of color to whet the appetite for the color that is about to come.

As they fade away the tulip tree (not sure what this tree is, click here) begins the parade for all flowering trees. Too often this tree is bitten by cold temperatures and never gets to show-off for all who pass by. While eyes are looking up, they look down too. Hyacinths are spears of fragrant color. Daffodils bob in the wind.  Then the forsythia breaks out in a mass of sunshine on a branch, mounds of yellow dot the land.

Bradford pear trees burst into bloom, but their flower fades quickly as the leaves are anxious to appear. Now when I look down, tulips appear to replace the daffodils. The phlox is warming up as it overflows the beds spreading the carpet of purple. That same orchid color becomes

a cloud of color in the woods as redbud trees pop up in surprising places. Fruit trees, flowering crab trees,
and sand cherry trees compete for attention in the air. Back to the ground, minuscule wildflowers dot the yards with dainty blooms. All too often there is that pushy weed, the dandelion, trying to take over the entire yard.

Slowly the dogwood tree begins to open up.

When viewed from a distance, the blossoms appear to be suspended snowflakes among the slowly leafing trees. The new leaves timidly begin the opening process,

every shade of green can be seen. Although when you look closely not all new leaves are green. There are shades of red and rust too.

Lilacs have begun to bloom. Every day as I ride a few more buds have opened up to allow me to inhale their fragrance as I pedal past. Peonies and irises sprout. They won’t be blooming yet, but they hold the promise of color to come. Soon the bedding plants will appear in yards and trees will be  fully leafed out. Even though spring has been slow to evolve, it is always a joy to watch the procession of color appear.

Update on our new neighbors: two have hatched as of Sunday.

I Knew It Was Spring . . .

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I knew spring finally arrived when my husband announced, “It’s shopping time again.” No, he was not telling me to head out to the nearest mall and find the latest styles for my wardrobe. He was referring to the birds who come to my small bicycle planter.  It seems that coco liners are just what the birds need to create that special touch in the nest.

For about two weeks the birds land on the rim, take stock of what they see, then they begin the process of dismantling the dirt filled liner. Robins are the greediest, but wrens have been spotted pulling out their fair share. They peck, pull, pluck until their beak is full. Off they fly to construct their nests. Moments later someone else is back on the rim gathering another beakful.

I suppose the building time has passed, as no one has been to the planter for a few days. I know they will return as soon as we put in the new liner and dirt.

The following robin pictures were taken from inside the house with the lens zoomed to catch the shoppers in action.

Easy picking or should I say easy pecking for the nest.

She checks out the possibilities with a critical eye.

Do you think you could get another strand in that beak?

The current condition of the bike planter.

See the gap in the tree? A wren found a new home.

Soon we will have new neighbors on the side of our house.

I knew spring would finally arrive. I just had to be patient.

Moments of Panic

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My mother doesn’t need to get out in when the weather is uncooperative, so I stop by her apartment to pick up her grocery list and an envelope of tax information to mail. I slip her money and list into my right coat pocket.

Just before I get to the store I notice my gas light is blinking. I need to fill up and how convenient, there is a gas station in the parking lot. I use my credit card to get the gas. I slip the credit card into my left pocket with my cell phone because I will need it in the store in just a few minutes.

I pull into a parking place, grab the envelope to mail, and head into the store. First stop, get the postage for the envelope. Done!

Heading to the carts my phone rings. it’s my husband reminding me of a friend’s birthday. Yes dear, I will pick up a birthday card. As I am talking, I notice there is only a glove in my pocket. Where is the credit card? Panic is bubbling up as I hang up the phone. Feverishly I am searching pockets, checking out my purse. No card! I run out to the car, did it fall out there? No? I run to the gas station. I scan the area where I pumped the gas, nothing. I asked inside if anyone turned in a card, not today was the response.

I head back to the grocery store and return to the counter where I bought the postage. Fearfully, I inquire did anyone turn in a credit card just now? This time the answer is yes. Relief floods through my body. The clerk asks to see identification (thank you for that), then she returns my card to me.

Thank you to the honest person who found this card. I think, well now I have a slice to write, but I hope to never repeat this again.

Colorful Ride

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Finally, spring seems to have blown into town so I was able to take my bike out on the road. As I pedaled along, the colors of spring waved to me from the side lines. I had to hop off the bike and snap a few quick pictures to remember the vibrant colors of spring. (Just in case there are days ahead that aren’t quite so bright.)

Spears of grape hyacinth put the grass to shame.

Who wins the competition in the category of yellow?

These poor blossoms looked like they were in jail, looking for a way to escape.

The trees didn’t want to be left out. They waved their branches as I pedaled by. They reminded me of those students who wave their arms wildly saying, “Ooo, ooo!”

Did it snow?

I savor the evidence of spring’s arrival, finally!