Winged Wonders and Other Mysteries

Butterflies. I've heard that this is the next phase of addiction to all things winged. When the birds are hiding among the leaves, hard to see,  and taking flight just when you raise the binoculars, along comes a wee butterfly, and lands on your foot so you can take a good, long look. How accommodating! How cute. I love you and I don't even know your name.

 Haven't a clue...yet. But the fact that I was out in the yard, trying to catch a glimpse of the Palm Warbler who had been singing non-stop for about half an hour from an impossibly high branch somewhere in the neck hurts stratosphere, made this little guy  absolutely lovable. " Look at me! Here I am, right here, attached to your foot, a living tattoo!"

So I told the Palm Warbler that I was no longer interested in playing hide'n'seek, and walked over to the lilac bush...awash with flutters. Albeit, a very windy day didn't help with the posing, however, these little winged jewels are absolutely beautiful.

The wind was blustery, and they were having a tough time hanging on to the flowers -just as I was having a tough time trying to focus.  It's a terrible shot, but I've included it to show the colours of the black butterfly, with the blue spots. He's distinctly different from the first one with the yellow spots. Both to be identified.  

If you can identify any of these, please feel free. 

Also! Still trying to figure out what the heck this fleshy, marble sized fruit ball is...

 Totally flummoxed here. No one seems to know. So here's what  I do know:

it's about the size of a large marble, round, firm but pliant, with a stem and small leaf attached. We have oak trees, birch, poplar, and a few varieties of pine in our yard. Nothing exotic, no fruit trees. This just appeared in the garden. There was another, smaller one a few yards away. I've googled it but  haven't found an answer yet, so the mystery remains for you, gentle reader, to solve! 

I look forward to hearing from you.

Fox on the Run

One of the greatest things about being a birder is all the other wildlife you get to see, and today was no exception. It was however, exceptional! As I came around a bend in the road, about a kilometre from home, I saw something in the field to my right. I  haven't seen an Eastern Red Fox on our road for over a year, so this was a great moment! I pulled over, and hoped that I wouldn't frighten him into the bush when I rolled down the window and stuck a camera out of it. He was too intent on nabbing a little lunch to worry about me.

Head down, he was very obviously on the scent of some small rodent, weaving back 

and forth and following its every movement.

Then came the moment, a sharp turn to the right, a perky little jump, and 

a light landing -right on top of the animal to hold it between his paws 'til he could grab it with his teeth.

This rapid movement took all of about  10 seconds! 

As he lifted his head, I saw a small brown something living its last moment before becoming

a tasty snack for the quick and clever hunter. 

One last swallow, then back to work. Head down, and nose to the meadow.

Watching him work brought to mind a tune that was popular in the Ottawa Valley years ago, and sung by The Good Brothers in many a tavern. Enjoy!

Fox on the Run

Spring Soulstice

Solstice. Soulstice. That's what this time of year is for me. And therefore why it takes me twice as long to get anywhere if I'm driving. And why I carry binoculars and a camera with me everywhere I go. Because it's spring, birds are returning, the land is waking up, and so am I.

Perhaps if Canada were equatorial I'd feel differently, but it's not. It has four distinct seasons and each one evokes strong emotions, and requires a special commitment from the people who live here. It is not an easy place to live, particularly in winter, and especially if you haven't prepared yourself properly. It's not as simple as going out and buying mittens, boots, hats, warm coats and a snow shovel. Our forefathers not only had to  grow their own food, they had to preserve and store it as well, they had to think about warmth, and plan their sources of heat for long, cold winter nights. They had to be prepared, and they had to survive. Of course it's easier today, but I think that the challenges our great grandparents faced are part of who we are today, and when we make it through another winter, we celebrate. We go outside, touch the earth, smell the deep, wet, woodsy forest, and welcome back the songs of spring.

Everywhere I go I see signs. Vast skeins of geese heralding their arrival, honking overhead. Turtles emerging from their muddy beds to bask once more in sunshine. Pairs of ducks locked in their ritual dances. Nest building, song singing, bawdy, raucous Spring! Welcome! And linger.

12/3/4 Winter's Still Outside the Door

In March I begin to tire of winter whites, and the vast expanse of it directly outside my window as I look at my frozen river. To  say nothing of the snow deer in the yard, hoping to be untethered soon:

These are the days when cabin fever can strike, and the urge to get outside sends me roaming around the countryside hoping to find signs of life. Maybe a bird or two. It doesn't really matter what I see, I just want relief from the frigid crystals that bind us....however beautifully winter arranges itself  along the roadside...

over the fields...

 

and upon the rocks...

The moodiness of March is a force to be reckoned with!  Around the Ottawa Valley all manner of life is coping with winter's last gasp. 

Cows and horses out of the barn for the first time in months

Mourning doves wait patiently...

The Raven tires of endlessly surfing snowdrifts...

 

 Wild turkeys roosting. Do they dream of fresh green sprouts?

 Oh for the day when we can go for a walk without hats, mitts,scarves, boots, coats!

                           

The road is long to spring, but there are signs.

The harbingers of spring are there, like little rewards for being so patient.And as I drive down the icy road, a final magnificent present! Do you see what I see??

Look closely...a tiny oval speck...white to blend with the snow....in the middle  of the shot

 YES!!!!!!!

A gift from winter. Posing quietly while I grabbed the camera, got out of the car, walked across the road to the edge of the field...and sighed hello.

A perfect ending. Just perfect.

Awaiting Moderation

ever seeking.

always peeking around corners

and behind pictures.

trying to understand the naysayers, 

soothsayers, 

guitar players.

me.

politics.

ticks.

talk.

it's a complicated world. 

and only the honest resonate with me.

they are

few and far between.

and you know who you are.

so do I.

These photos define and delight me.

 I took them
 and hope that
you will
enjoy them.

it's not what you're  looking for.

it's that you're looking.

you'll know when you've found it.

(and  if you wish to borrow one of these photos,please ask.tx)

Owl Prowl

It was a brilliant, sunny Saturday  morning in 1980, and I was driving along a snow-covered country road in the   Ottawa Valley. My mood didn't match the passing scenery. Lost in thought about this's and that's and what to do about them all, I barely noticed it at first. A large white football with wings? Oh dear God, an owl! Not just any owl, a Snowy Owl. Practically floating just inches above the hood of my car, its wings steadily beating, and going the exact same speed as me! I have no idea where he came from, but I immediately felt connected and comforted.

Deep inside a childhood memory awoke of my Mother reciting, "A wise old owl sat in an oak/The more he saw the less he spoke/The less he spoke the more he heard/Now wasn't he a wise old bird?" That little nursery rhyme has stayed with me forever, and the wise old owl has been my "spark bird".  My Mom had died  the previous year, and I  believed immediately that this stunning owl, pacing me all the way down the road was a message from her. There were no words. Just peace. That road is about 3 km long, and that bird stayed above the right front part of the car the entire way 'til I had to slow and make a turn, at which point it drifted off across the field and over the horizon. I pulled over and wept.

The next siting was several years later. I had moved away, and then moved back again. And in the meantime, had discovered birding. It was another wintry day scouting out the fields and forests along winding country roads by myself. I often bird alone. It's my time to just be. This day was no different as I pulled over to take a look along an old fence line hoping to see a white oval in the distance. I rolled down the window, reached over for the binoculars on the seat beside me and turned to look at the field. And there he was! Landing on a fence post not 2 metres away! Feet first, little bit of  a shuffle and arranging his wings just so, perfect perch, and then he turned his head and met me face on. Staring, not moving. Considering. We looked at each other for about 2 minutes, me barely breathing, but breathing it all in. Then a big shrug and off he flew, directly north of me, across the field. I put the bins up to follow then, and watched in utter astonishment as he landed mid-way across the stubble, pounced on something, alit, and flew right back to the same fence post where I was parked. Now absolutely astonished, I sat and watched in wonder as he proceeded to eat the mouse he'd just caught for lunch. Slowly, surely, holding it in his claws, delicately pecking and pulling, and finally all done! Again, he turned to look at me, while I still stared. I whispered a quiet "thank-you".
He flew off then, and I drove away having just been given a gift  that I would cherish always.

It's all Hieroglyphics to Me

Hieroglyphics:  
"Hieroglyphic symbols, unlike letters in our alphabet , are used to describe what we would use a group of letters to- such as an idea or thought in a picture form. Like to describe the sun for example 

they would have a picture similar to the sun, or to describe a crocodile you would see a picture similar to a crocodile. While some of their symbols are easy to understand it took years and help from many artifacts for scientists to decode these symbols."

So saith Reference.com.  Like they're basically saying that uh hieroglyphics are like word pictures to convey an idea. 

Remember the ancient Egyptians?  They  etched their thoughts, mournful, mundane, murderous and otherwise all over the pyramids which are arguably the penultimate burial vaults on earth. In doing so, they unwittingly made Harrison Ford  and a deck of Hollywood movie moguls multi-billionaires many suns and moons later as they were inspired to create moving picture shows about lost arcs, sun gods, grocery lists and golden treasure in order to entertain us. 

IN THE MEANTIME, back to reality. 

Nature also leaves hieroglyphics  all over the earth. Within the  power of every creature is the ability to communicate, at times with intent. At times, not. 

Winter in Canada provides many opportunities to read the stories being told by fox, wolf, squirrel, mouse, ferret, raccoon, deer, mink, fisher, coyote...they are all out and about, roaming the forests, fields and farms. While they forage they write their tales of life and death  and now it is for you to decipher...

Great Grey Owl lands suddenly. Kills quickly. Leaves.

What hops along and lands on its little bum every time? (I don't know)

Squirrel? but what's the long deep cut made by? 

and what's the plunge on the right?

Steps in its own trace, drags tail. Nope. No clue here unless it's a fox?

 Ghost owl. Likely Eastern Screech. Dropping in for take out dinner.

Ah! This one I know. Winter s'quitter. Running around in loud, noisy circles.

Humans. Creating hieroglyphics.