Yesterday Bob came home early. The time of day is such that we had light at the end of the day as we sat on the porch facing west with salad. I looked up and there on one of the feeder trays was the Indigo Bunting with his ivory beak, eating our millet. A few minutes later on the other feeding station was the Rose Breasted Grosbeak male having a bedtime snack.
Seeing an Indigo Bunting carries me forward for several years.
Friday, April 25, 2014
Sunday, April 20, 2014
A Quiet Easter
Except for birdsong, it's a quiet Easter here. Yesterday we had some migrating visitors at the birdfeeders. Two female rose-breasted grosbeaks faced down the cardinals for a seed snack. We have also had the catbird and brown thrasher coming more often than usual. A few goldfinches are still here.
I still have not identified the bird with the four note song. When I leave for work, I keep my window rolled down as I drive to the main road, listening to the birds start the day.
I lied when I spoke philosophically about not being able to see Bobby and Rosie on their nest with their two hatchlings, Orla and Silver. I miss the intimate view of their tender parenting, I miss the view of Washington Square Park beyond the nest, and I miss the little community of nest watchers. It was not the most sophisticated nest cam, but it was my first and only nest cam experience for three years. On a day like today I could see people walking around the fountain. On a stormy day I could see the trees moving with the wind. At night I could see car headlights moving past the arch on the other side of the park. I imagined what it was like for the eyasses, watching their parents fly off the ledge, knowing someday they would make the jump to the distant and unknown trees.
Now I am getting to know Ezra and Big Red at Cornell. I'm grateful there is another place to watch a red-tailed hawk nest.
Easter is a time of renewal. I was baptized on Easter many years ago. It was snowing in Nashville that day, just a small flurry in the morning. New Year's Eve is the time when most people make their resolutions to live a better life, but for me it is at Easter that I am filled with hope that I can improve myself.
I still have not identified the bird with the four note song. When I leave for work, I keep my window rolled down as I drive to the main road, listening to the birds start the day.
I lied when I spoke philosophically about not being able to see Bobby and Rosie on their nest with their two hatchlings, Orla and Silver. I miss the intimate view of their tender parenting, I miss the view of Washington Square Park beyond the nest, and I miss the little community of nest watchers. It was not the most sophisticated nest cam, but it was my first and only nest cam experience for three years. On a day like today I could see people walking around the fountain. On a stormy day I could see the trees moving with the wind. At night I could see car headlights moving past the arch on the other side of the park. I imagined what it was like for the eyasses, watching their parents fly off the ledge, knowing someday they would make the jump to the distant and unknown trees.
Now I am getting to know Ezra and Big Red at Cornell. I'm grateful there is another place to watch a red-tailed hawk nest.
Easter is a time of renewal. I was baptized on Easter many years ago. It was snowing in Nashville that day, just a small flurry in the morning. New Year's Eve is the time when most people make their resolutions to live a better life, but for me it is at Easter that I am filled with hope that I can improve myself.
Friday, April 18, 2014
Hatchlings
Tonight after Friday night chores I tuned in to find that Bobby and Rosie have a hatch. I feel the same way about seeing that hatch that I feel about visiting a wildlife refuge in Alaska. It can proceed without me.
Meanwhile I tune in at night to watch Big Red sitting on her eggs at Cornell. She just got up to roll and fluff them. Then she settled back down on them and the night goes on quietly.
Meanwhile I tune in at night to watch Big Red sitting on her eggs at Cornell. She just got up to roll and fluff them. Then she settled back down on them and the night goes on quietly.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Rose, Rosie, and Big Red
Get ready for the threes. Three days from now will be April 13, two months since we lost Rosie our cat who was with us since 1998, the year we lost our mother.
It is gusting to 30 knots in Ithaca, NY tonight, and Big Red is on the nest. If Big Red had a fist to shake at the wind, she was shaking it a few minutes ago. She ruffled up and glared at the elements and turned her three eggs and settled back down on them.
For three years I have watched Bobby's nest on the ledge of the Bobst Library at New York University. The New York Times began the nest cam and President Sexton continued the cam for the next two years. This year, however, we are without a nest cam and dependent on hawk watchers from Washington Square Park for news and images of the nest. They tell us that Rosie's eggs will pip in the next couple of weeks. I feel the same way I used to feel when relying on letters from England to the United States for news back in the 60's and 70's, when we had no easy telephone communication. So far away and so long to hear.
Meanwhile, of necessity, I have become a Cornell hawk cam watcher. In the quiet of the night, I see Big Red's back feathers rise and fall as she breathes and broods. I am grateful for the meditation practice, to be able to watch a hawk sleeping on her eggs.
It is gusting to 30 knots in Ithaca, NY tonight, and Big Red is on the nest. If Big Red had a fist to shake at the wind, she was shaking it a few minutes ago. She ruffled up and glared at the elements and turned her three eggs and settled back down on them.
For three years I have watched Bobby's nest on the ledge of the Bobst Library at New York University. The New York Times began the nest cam and President Sexton continued the cam for the next two years. This year, however, we are without a nest cam and dependent on hawk watchers from Washington Square Park for news and images of the nest. They tell us that Rosie's eggs will pip in the next couple of weeks. I feel the same way I used to feel when relying on letters from England to the United States for news back in the 60's and 70's, when we had no easy telephone communication. So far away and so long to hear.
Meanwhile, of necessity, I have become a Cornell hawk cam watcher. In the quiet of the night, I see Big Red's back feathers rise and fall as she breathes and broods. I am grateful for the meditation practice, to be able to watch a hawk sleeping on her eggs.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Fresh as a Daisy
Daisy is not fresh. She rolls in the litter box every day. This afternoon I smelled poop and looked high and low, thinking Frida had had another accident. An hour later I noticed that Daisy had somehow soiled her pantaloons and had to get some help with her grooming from a wet washcloth. When they told me at the clinic that she had been found on a dirt road with her sister and six nieces and nephews, I thought it was just a colorful back story and a credit to her survival skills, but it goes deeper as it turns out. It's a revelation of her character in more ways than one.
When you adopt your first kitten, there is an unspoken rule that no one talks about hairballs. I started the day cleaning Frida's thrown up breakfast, after work progressed to Daisy's pantaloons, and now that I've been on a walk Nicky is hacking all over the house trying to get something up. It's just going to be one of those clean up days from start to finish, and the trade off is that we have great cats most of the time.
When you adopt your first kitten, there is an unspoken rule that no one talks about hairballs. I started the day cleaning Frida's thrown up breakfast, after work progressed to Daisy's pantaloons, and now that I've been on a walk Nicky is hacking all over the house trying to get something up. It's just going to be one of those clean up days from start to finish, and the trade off is that we have great cats most of the time.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Tooth and thorn
Last night around 10pm Frida's remaining upper canine fell out. She had just had a bedtime snack and her heart pill and started licking the roof of her mouth vigorously. Bob looked closer and saw blood. After a visit to the doctor, she has pain meds and antibiotics to help with any infection of what's left of the root, which isn't much.
Just a few minutes ago, as we were transitioning from finishing lunch to finishing the income tax return, Daisy came in from the garden with an enormous rose thorn impaled in her ear. She has had odd bumps on her ears from time to time, and I witnessed her last year jumping up into the rose trellis to chase birds. No further empirical evidence is needed at this point.
Just a few minutes ago, as we were transitioning from finishing lunch to finishing the income tax return, Daisy came in from the garden with an enormous rose thorn impaled in her ear. She has had odd bumps on her ears from time to time, and I witnessed her last year jumping up into the rose trellis to chase birds. No further empirical evidence is needed at this point.
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