Meanwhile, back at the watercooler.

Yes, readers, it is that time of year again, when the elderly confine themselves to the safety and warmth of the house because they have no real life and fill the morning hours by taking photos of the birds at the bird-feeder through their windows leading to a blurry technique and not so funny captions.  Bear with me until better weather.

Stand-up Comedy

I have spent a fortune on bird seed...more than you  have spent this year on shoes or beer.  I am sure.  But I still get no respect around here.

"The sun has been up for 15 minutes and the feeders are still empty!!??  What in the heck are you doing in there?"

"I am still waiting!  Get off the couch you slug.  It is  NOT that cold out here, and I am not moving."

"What is this stuff?  You expect me to eat cheap cracked corn?  Do I look like a crow?"

"You do realize these are stale, right?"

Ducks in Action

My husband was watching this fellow through the binoculars getting ready to jump to the dock and join his mate.  They like this dock because my neighbor has a leaky hose and thus the fresh water is available to them.  I tried to catch the jump as he made it, but because he was on the other side you don't get the full effect.  Just a wing flap and he has made it.  Below in a grainy photo due to the dark time of day, the male Mallard seems to be spinning some one-liners to the female...no?  Come here often?  Can I help you with that leaky nozzle?  Did you just get in from a migration?  (As always you can click on the photo for a close-up via Blogger.)

And finally, above is a Mallard that I scared (and he scared me) from under my dock when I went down to watch the sunset that same evening.  He jumped into the water from beneath my dock where he was sitting on a float.  It is not the best focus but I wanted to share the water "angel" he made.

Size Does Matter

Things one learns if one watches birds long enough, and clearly that is mostly what I do!

Click on photos if you want a closer view.

You Can Make Anywhere More Beautiful

Pothole Gardens

Shhhh!

Tonight the moon is more than half full.  That cold pearl light sharpens the dark shadows that lay across my path and the glow washes past the field that I must cross.  It is the only light I have as I set out on my journey.


Did you hear that?  It is the muggy warning call of the owl.  He sees and hears all.  What is he trying to tell me as my feet crunch the leaves covering this narrow path?  I hear nothing else except the ground fog breathing cautiously below and hiding my way as it flows behind the tree trunks.  The air smells damp and dead and of black mold.  The earth is old and wet which I notice as my heel slips on the downside of the path.  Then a tree root catches my foot causing me to stumble against a craggy oak.  I have bumped my head and as I reach to rub it, I touch a web and brush it with panic from my forehead.  I turn but first must adjust my shoe before returning back on the path.


Tonight it is THE night and I cannot turn back.  All of the night creatures will be there waiting for me with their glowing eyes and sudden screeching music.  Even now they crouch low and wait to pounce as the moon slides behind a cloud for a brief time.  This is their hour of power.


At last I have reached the edge of the mowed field bathed in the last of the moon light and I see the barn up ahead.  What a perfect night for a Halloween Barn Dance, I think as I wrap my scarf closer about my neck!

Bug Shakes Its Booty.

I 

I spent some time watching this guy shake it to the left and then shake it to the right over and over again, and it took forever to get such a close photo in focus! He would raise his right wing and then his left as he moved his body from side to side as if in some dance with only music that he heard.  A mating dance?  A way to beat the heat?  No video but here is a still life!  Aren't you glad I find all this odd stuff?  (This is a post I wrote a few weeks ago as I am now taking a break from blogging for a while.)

My Bluebird is a Bitch

She is. She really is. She has completed her nest beneath my deck, seems to have laid some eggs, and she and her husband seem to be tending them with sporadic care.  Her duties are recessed in the early evenings when she has been freed by her mate.  She spends these precious moments smearing insects either on the deck posts or against my windows.  One would think this new mother would take advantage of the free time and instead watch the sunset with a nice martini!  She flits from breakfast nook window to living room window to my bedroom window (all on one side of the house) determined to get my attention.  When she finally sees me in the room, (I wave my arms high over my head against some light background to catch her eye--no photos) she stops and stares at me for the longest time.  She looks as if she is trying to figure out how to communicate or if indeed I can be that large and odd looking and be allowed to live.


In the early mornings, immediately after the sun is up, her mate gives her another reprieve from nest sitting, and she flies out to collect a bug or two and then returns to the deck eating part of her repast and painting the leftover guts on the backs of my deck chairs after which she promptly drops last night's digested meal on the seat of one of the deck chairs.

A short time later, after she is satiated, she comes again tapping at the bedrooms windows (this all happens about 6:00 AM!), only this time she is grumbling and hissing under her breath and puffing out her chest as she talks to herself.  She looks at me as I sit up in bed bleary-eyed and then mutters and shakes her head.  It sounds like angry muttering and spitting, really.  More guttural than the bird's lyrical song.  Is she complaining about the lack of air-conditioning in her abode, the lack of a window, the fact that due to lawn mowing I moved the hammock further away from where she used to stop on her way into the birdhouse?  Or is she regretting  her decision to start a family after this reality has set in?

Rare Wood Duck Found

Each trip into the out of doors is a search for that something new, rare and special. Sometimes I get lucky and get a special photograph!

This week I was rewarded with being able to get this photo of the rare wood duck, Magnus quercus capitis.