Bird Worries

          We spent our mornings this week working on our pond, pulling willows, and causing general havoc in the critter world.

          I know our pond is looking better and better, and I know we've pulled a lot of trees and brush because our burn pile is absolutely huge.

          "I'm done working until next week," I announced at the end of our workday on Wednesday. "We're going shopping tomorrow and since we're going to a graduation party on Sunday, I'm gonna spend Friday and Saturday putting my blog together."

          Mike didn't fuss. He knows I've been doing most of the hard work, pulling and wrapping the chain, climbing back up the bank, unwrapping the chain and staging stuff to be pulled around to the burn pile. He even feels bad that he can't do more. "Hey!" I tell him. "We're a team here, you and I. I can't do what I do without you." And I thank God, I really and truly do, I thank God, as I'm pulling on those heavy chains...

          "Chains," you say. "Peg, that's plural."

          That's right. Where we've been working Mike can't get the tractor down in there so we've had to hook two heavy-ass chains together and I get to pull two of them! Sometimes I'd have to turn around and see if he's got the tractor on them because they're so hard to pull, but he's careful, and it's just the weight of the chains resisting the pull of my puny girl arms. And sometimes the hook between the chains has snagged something and I have to drop the end I'm pulling, walk back and untangle it before I can continue.

          But I thank God that I can do this work.

          Going back to work on Monday I saw a nest in a stand of willows I was getting ready to work on. I gently pulled the willows over until I could look in the nest.

          Four! There were four eggs in there. "Let's let these go until the babies are gone," I told Mike. "We can pull them later." I didn't want to work anywhere close to the nest because often times when we pull one willow, we'll pull a long string of them out.

          "Let's get that tub out," Mike suggested. "Can you get in there and wrap the chain around it?"

          "I can try," I said grabbing the chain and making my way into the dense underbrush. I did get the chain around it but when Mike pulled with the tractor, the chain slipped under the tub and off. We had to dump the dirt and rocks then we could pull the tub out.

            The hole left behind looked like a grave.

          "What's the deal with the tub?" you wonder.

          I think they used it like a pond, maybe kept fish in it. I don't know for sure but it was planted in the path of the water as it came down the hill.

          As we worked, I had to listen to one upset mama. That bird squawked and carried on all day as we worked way too close to her nest — as far as she was concerned.  

          We knocked off about lunchtime and that left my afternoon free.

          "Let's go visit the Kipps this afternoon," I told Mike.

          "Okay. Any special reason?"

          "Well... I've been thinking about Rosie's bum arm and how she can't do any baking for Lamar and I wondered if she's ever heard of a 3-2-1 Cake." Some people call them 3-2-1 Microwave Mug Cake or 3-2-1 Magic Mug Cake but it's all the same thing. This has been out and all over the internet for years but the Kipps don't have internet and may never have heard of them. I made it a few times when I first heard about it but I ended up throwing most of the mix away because it got old.

          I mixed a batch of chocolate and we took it to the Kipps.

          "Rosie, have you ever heard of a 3-2-1 Cake?"

          Rosie thought about it for a second. "I don't think I ever have by that name. What is it?"

          "You mix together a box of Angel Food Cake mix and a box of any other flavor cake mix that you want. Then, when you want a little something-something, you put 3 tablespoons mix in a cup with 2 tablespoons water and microwave for 1 minute. Voila! A single serving cake! You can top with low-calorie whip cream, keep some canned frosting in the fridge, eat it plain or you can do what I'm going to do today and that's sprinkle a few chocolate chips on top."

          "Really?" Rosie sounded interested.

          "Yep. And you can even add nuts or a piece of candy to the center before you microwave it and you'll have a molten lava cake." I held up the bag of mix and a small bag of chocolate chips. "You wanna make one?"

          "Sure," Rosie said and we went to the kitchen and whipped up an afternoon snack in a jiffy. "It's not bad," she said.

          Lamar scraped the bottom of his cup. "Nope. Not bad at all."

          It doesn't compare to Rosie's yummy baking but in a pinch, it'll do and Lamar doesn't have to go totally dessertless until Rosie's wing heals.

          Speaking of Rosie's wing...

          I love that a couple of you sent Rosie get-well wishes. Getting a card in the mail with the kind and encouraging words you write really brighten Rosie's day, and mine too! She shares your cards with me. I want to share one of them with you. It's from my mother and she wrote: May your wing get better soon so that you can fly with the rest of the flock!

          I love that! The rest of Rosie's exercise flock is missing her, that's for sure!

           The next day we went back to work at the pond. I went down a few minutes before Mike because I wanted to sneak up on the bird and catch her in her nest. It didn't work.

          This day Mike got his chainsaw out, gassed up, and he cut three big trees. Smudge helped but by the time I got to my camera and got back, he was playing peek-a-boo with Mike.

          I thought we were going to get rained on but the wind pushed the clouds on past, the sky cleared and we continued working.

          A helicopter went overhead. A Boeing Chinook? I stopped long enough to take his picture.

          Some of the stuff around the pond is too skinny for us to pull. Mike tried out his new brush hog. Boy! If you thought working around the pond upset Mama Bird, you can imagine what a noisy, cutting thing close to her nest did to her.

          The alarm on my phone went off. It was time to make my daily I LOVE YOU call to Momma. "I tried to sneak up on the bird this morning, but she took off before I even got close!" I told her.

          "Of course she did." Momma wasn't surprised.

          "Yeah, but I want a picture of her sitting on the nest!"

          Momma laughed. "Just because you want it doesn't mean you're going to get it."

          Ain't that the truth.

          I did take some other pictures for your consideration.

           Blue-eyed Grass. Did you know that Blue-eyed Grass isn't really a grass? It's a low-growing perennial more closely related to the Iris. And did you know that, despite the name, Blue-eyed Grass comes in white, yellow, and purple as well as blue?

          The blooms of the Multiflora Rose. Despite the fact that these guys are invasive and despite the fact that if you ever tangle with one — especially when they're all dried out — they're evil, despite all of that they still smell as sweet as any other rose. And you can use the hips as you would any other rose hip.

          The Spatterdock is open.

          A dragonfly. He was quite a ways away from me so this is the best I could do with my zoom and my cropping before he got too grainy, and he's the first one I've gotten a picture of this year.

          I decided that if I stood still long enough that Mama Bird would come to her nest, sit on her eggs, and I'd get my picture. I had Ginger with me and she wandered around the pond for a while but eventually came and sat at my feet. The bird cried out her warnings, and I wasn't very close to her nest, standing behind some brush, but evidently I didn't fool her with my stillness. Every once in a while she'd shoot straight up, squawk, and dive back for cover. Is she checking to see if I'm still here? I wondered. Every time she got close to her nest I thought I was going to get my shot. I was hopeful. 

            After an hour of standing still, my arms screaming from holding my camera at the ready for so long, I heard panic in Mama Bird's cries.

          What in the world... I wondered.

          Then Rascal came striding out of the underbrush.

          I gave up.

          "What kind of a bird is it?" Momma asked me on the phone.

          "I think it might be a Cowbird," silly me says. "But I won't know for sure until I download my camera."

          She's not a Cowbird and if I would have thought about it I'd have realized that since I have so many Redwing Blackbirds around my pond that she's probably one of those. But these old eyes, and the fact that I couldn't get close to her, could only see a dark body and reddish head. She doesn't have a reddish head, that was just me seeing what I expected to see. She's a girl Redwing Blackbird.

          The next morning we went back to work at the pond.

          "Let's drag the trees out that I cut yesterday," Mike says.

          Chains hooked, Michael pulls, the tree twists and he pulls it right up and over the nest. I could have cried, I was so upset.

          I made my way down the bank and stood the stand of whip-like willows back up. The nest was intact. I looked in expecting to see eggs like I saw two days before, but instead, there were the fluffy bodies and closed eyes of two baby birds. They had hatched. I used my finger to make a count. Two babies, two eggs; all accounted for.

          Whew!

          Mike is lucky.

          But now I had something else to worry about. I hadn't seen Mama Bird around for a while.

          What if the activity around her nest was too much for her, I fretted. What if she's abandoned her nest?

          I checked a couple of more times that day and even though I heard the familiar warning clicks she makes, she wasn't near the nest and I wasn't one hundred percent sure it was her. The next day I check again. All the babies are hatched and they're all alive. She's either taking care of them or it takes them longer than a day to die.

          I know, right! Not a pleasant thought. It took the newborn kittens about four days before they started to die. It's in a blog someplace. So even though the baby birds were alive, I wasn't much comforted.

          Thursday we went shopping. All the roadsides and hillsides, mountainsides and valleys are lush and green. Here are a few road pictures for you. 

          Mike needed a part for his Kubota tractor so we'd gone in search of a dealer in Dickson City. Our GPS got us there and we visited a part of the city we otherwise would never have seen.

          After we got home and the groceries put away I decided to take Ginger for a walk and try to sneak up on Mama Bird. This time, instead of heading straight for the pond, I'd go up on the hill and come down the other way. Maybe she won't see me coming, I thought.

          Smudge had a baby bunny but he wasn't going to let me anywhere near him. I may have helped a critter or two escape his clutches in the past and he hasn't forgotten that. Although, after the fiasco last year, I learned my lesson with baby bunnies. If they eat one, maybe they won't go back for the rest of the nest. I had no intention of taking his bunny from him, I only wanted a photo, but he didn't know that.

         

         Birds-foot Trefoil. A part of the pea family, this perennial is often used as food for livestock because of its non-bloating properties.

          Mike mowed over this guy who was smart enough to stay low and avoid the blades of the mower.

          "A little snapper," I said when Mike pointed him out to me. I used a stick to tease him; I'd hoped he would bite it and I could pick him up, but it didn't work. He did, however, try to climb over the stick and get away from me. I picked it up and he held on tight!

         

          I wasn't having any luck identifying this guy so I posted it on Facebook.

          "I'll post it on the entomology page," my cute little red-haired sister commented. "Someone there will know."

          And someone did. This is a Scorpionfly.

          The males have enlarged genitals that look similar to the stingers of scorpions, Wikipedia tells me.

          Hmmm, that is not evident in my photo; maybe mine's a girl.

          Ground Ivy.

          Spit from a spittlebug. Did you know that this is just a stage of the Froghoppers?

            The nymphs, called spittlebugs, are encased in spit to protect them from other bugs that may want to eat them and to keep them moist. Without the foam — it really isn't spit — they would quickly dry up and die.

          When the pond came into view I stood still and tried to hear the mama. I didn't hear or see her until I got closer, then I heard her distinctive warning click. I veered away from her nest and went the other way around the pond.

          Who's that, I wondered. I can't tell the tabbies apart until I'm closer. Snapping a picture, I watched as the cat backed up. That's when I realized he was face to face with a snapper laying her eggs.

          I was glad I had Ginger on a leash. A lot of times I let her go leashless, but I didn't want her to scare Mama Bird before I got there so I had her leashed this time. I'm not sure what would've happened when she saw the snapper because she's used to confronting box turtles who just hide in their shells and are safe from her. Snappers aren't built the same as box turtles and can't retreat into their shells. In the water, snappers aren't aggressive and will slip quietly away and hide in the mud. On land, they're more aggressive so Ginger may have gotten bitten. Heaven knows that she's lived a sheltered life and doesn't even have sense enough to stay away from a Quill Pig.

          "Peg, how about some snapping turtles facts?" you say.

          Okey dokey.

          Snappers have an appendage on the end of their tongue that looks like a worm. They'll lay in the mud at the bottom of the pond with their mouth open until a fish takes the bait.

          Snappers eat dead animals, insects, fish, birds, small mammals, amphibians, and a surprisingly large amount of aquatic plants.

          Snapping turtles are at the top of their food chain when they're grown. As hatchlings, they are food for herons, raccoons, skunks, foxes, bullfrogs, snakes, bass, and crows. It's estimated that snappers can live 30 years.

          Snappers can move fast so my entourage gave her a wide birth.

          It looks like the deer are grazing on the pokeweed. Although pokeweed contains toxins and can cause problems to humans and livestock, it's a valuable source of food to over 15 species of songbirds. Dozens of insects and hummingbirds seek pokeweed nectar and bees collect their pollen. Raccoons, possums, fox, coyotes, and black bears eat the fruit. And, of course, both the fruit and the foliage are highly preferred by deer because of its ease of digestibility and high crude protein content.

          A Crane Fly — not a mosquito or mosquito eater.

          Dock. A very seedy plant. You can make flour from the seeds or eat the greens in the early spring.

         

          Daddy Long Legs or the Harvestmen Spider. He doesn't make a web, he's not poisonous, and he can't bite you.

          All these tiny white flowers belong to Cleavers also called Bedstraw or Goose Grass. When the fruit comes on we just call them stick tights!

          Jon Robinson broke his lawn mower and called Mike to ask for help in getting it apart. When Jon got the replacement part Mike went up to help him put his mower back together again and Ginger and I went along for the ride. It wasn't long before I was bored and walked around Jon's beautiful piece of property.

          The grasses are getting ripe.

          Jon has Orange Hawkweed.

          I had a small patch of the orange at one time but haven't seen anything but yellow in years. I picked one and took his picture then I dropped it back on the ground. I wonder what it smells like, I thought, turned around and picked it up again. Just before putting it to my nose I see this one was already occupied. This is a little Crab Spider or some call them Flower Spiders. They hang out on the flowers and wait for dinner to come along. I got so engrossed in taking his picture I forget to smell the flower.

          Ginger and I walked down to the pond. With all the rain combined with a broken lawn mower, Jon's grass has gotten way out of control. 

           One nice thing about that though is it allows the wildflowers to bloom. I found patch after patch of Forget-Me-Nots. At some point, I decided to collect a small bouquet for my kitchen window and I even went back and picked up the recently discarded Orange Hawkweed — although this picture was taken before I did that.

          Someday we'll go past this old house and it will be down.

          "Look at that sign," Mike says. "It looks relatively new." He paused. "What... did they use an upside down six for a nine?"

          I had to admit that it looked that way to me too.

           "What are those white flowers growing up the tree?" I asked and Mike stopped the golf cart so I could get a closer look. "It's a Multiflora Rose!" I don't think I knew they would grow up like that. I've only seen them in bushes on our property.

          A small Quill Pig making for the weeds. He wasn't interested in posing for me so all you get is Quill Pig Butt!

  

  

        Two German Shepherds going for a ride.

          This dragonfly is a Common Whitetail and he's a boy. Girls are brown.

          There were three of them on the tree but by the time I got Mike to stop there was only one left. "You're going to have to get faster on the stop when we see critters," I admonished.

          A Thrasher. Smudge brought in a baby one. I'm only guessing but the beak looked thrasher-like to me, long and curved.

           Finally, an old piece of farm equipment left to rot beside the road.

          Let's call this one done!