Mother's Day 2012

Long before I knew their name

my toddler fist brought you bunches of bluets

that you'd put in a tiny glass on your kitchen shelf.

"Honeysuckle" I first heard from you.

You lived in your own Eden of crocuses and lavender irises 

and your red lace-leaf maple and the cookie tree

and pretty, flower-filled window boxes.

I kept meaning to send you a picture of this

hoping you could tell me what tree it is.

You'd smile when I'd ask you to give me warning before you left, 

so that I could pack up and go on the big adventure with you. 

As foretold, we knew not the time 

and we were caught by surprise.

You've gone on ahead of me but you'll always be within me.

I love you and miss you.

The Red-winged Blackbird

Pictured above is perhaps my favorite bird, the female red-winged blackbird. She strikes me as timid by nature - she's not often seen. The photos here are a treasure to me, taken in two sessions in the last week. Though at first she might appear not much more than a small, dull brown bird, a study of her reveals a petite bird with striking lines, a lovely eye mask, and just a hint of the red (a rust colored stain) her mate boldly displays at the shoulder. And this bird is highly focused on her task of protecting her nest and its contents.

Based on my observation, each season, the red-winged blackbird males arrive several days before the females. The male is black, except for a brilliant red flash on his shoulder and a strip of creamy yellow that runs along the lower edge of the red. Depending on the season and things about mating that I've not determined, his red is more or less visible. For the past week, his red has been very evident. These birds seem to have established their nesting area, as always, low in the reeds in one corner of the pond.

I don't know if the days of coupling are passed for this season, or still ahead. In the photo below (taken today) it is clear this pair is posturing for attention. The female (comparatively a dull brown to the male's striking black and red) holds a statuesque posture as the male shows his bilateral red and calls to her.

The male is always visible, displaying a strong and confident manner. Several males will perch in the scrub along the pond's shore, and they click, whistle and call raucously to each other (or to the females?), and they spar in the air over the nesting area. All the while, a flicker here or there, deep in the reeds, might catch my eye, making me aware that the females are present, in a far more low-key way.

Pictured here are some lovely images of the female red-winged blackbird. I'm so happy to have them to share! Most were taken today.

Click on any image and scroll from start to finish, and back again!

Enjoy!

Transition and Mood Swings

The adage, "If you don't like the weather in New England, wait a minute," held true through the last 24 hours. During that time it was overcast, humid, cool, drizzly, sunny, oppressively warm, cloudy, dismal, and bright. Last night, I fell asleep to the soothing, steady sound of torrential rain on the roof and today, misty rain fell. But then, with my camera, I took advantage of the stunning, though moody, brilliant evening sunlight at the pond.

The opposing forces of light and dark played out 

as the sun shone and retreated -

and the pond was held in the transition, in the balance, 

its surface coal black and in a constant stir, 

the effects of turbulence in the in-between.

The heart and mind of the human in transition 

can get stuck in this place. 

Maybe, briefly, illumination seeps through 

and makes real again what has been obscured. 

Or perhaps a beam of light shines and shows 

not what was thought to be, 

but a murkiness that's been hidden in shadow.

How can you know where you should be?

How can you know what is constant and good?

Is this that moment? 

Or was it part of yesterday?

Or will it be in tomorrow?

And is it light and darkness alone that shows you?

Or can an innocuous splice of time cause to be what should be -
though it seems to be missing something?

In a time of change and while by myself, 

these are the things I contemplate as I observe the pond.
Guess I'll just take it minute to minute.

A New Perspective

I've been writing this blog about the pond for more than five years. Sometimes, recently, I've wondered if there is anything new to share. Fish, birds, fox, flowers, turtles, muskrat, snakes, coyotes, beavers, nests, frogs, butterflies, dragonflies, leaves, the sky, the water, clouds, the sun, the full moon, and the half moon have all been posted about, some several times. I've written about and posted photos of the shore, the scrub, the reeds, the muck on the floor of the pond, the stuff floating atop it and the island that sits in the center of the photo below - an island covered in rounds of shrubs and trees. It is nestled into a corner, and might not be recognized as its own little land mass unless you walk around the pond. The island provided something new to post about.

At its closest point, the island is only about 25 feet from the shore. But until this week, I'd just once stepped on it, and briefly - one winter day as I trudged through snow and over ice, and dragged my heavy boots and self through the deep snow along a short stretch of the island's shore. It was a magic moment for me, to set foot on the island.

Sometime last year, I noticed that there seemed to be a square-shaped tree trunk at the end of the island closest to the shore. I'd zoom in with the camera and try to see it more clearly. Last fall, I realized there were two such "trunks", spaced about four feet from each other. This spring, I spent much time positioning myself to try to take clear photos through branches directly in front of me and through more obstructing branches on the island - photos like the one above - photos that showed there was a sign held by the two posts behind a bushy evergreen. It became a mission for me to try to determine what the sign said. I dragged one of my girlfriends on a walk one day, and studying our camera shots, she and I could make out the letters I-S-L-A-N-D at the end and a distinct K at the start. My daughter, whose outlook must be somewhat jaded, suggested it said, "KEEP OFF ISLAND". I hoped not. 

A friend (actually, a friend of 32 years who was also my husband for 26 years) offered to bring his SUP (stand up paddle-board) to the pond so that I could journey to the island. Pictured above is Jack, who is used to using the board in the choppy waters of the Atlantic seacoast. While he was fully at ease standing on the board in the mellow waters of the pond, I felt most comfortable kneeling as I balanced and paddled around. In the photo below I'm passing between the island shore and the pond shore.

We took turns going to the island, which is probably 60 feet long and 40 feet wide. And, yes, we found that there is a sign on it, and a very nice one. With paddle board well anchored, Jack used a saw and took off the lower branches of the pine. 

And lo, the island has a name! It's Keresey Island! A beautiful wood carving of a male mallard decorates the sign. I'm going to ask around to figure out how the island came by this name.

As Jack worked he discovered a nest with eggs...and a golf ball...in it. I've since researched and identified them as Canada Geese eggs (correction below!). There are eight eggs, and one golf ball!

I toured the island at my leisure, loving the cool, 

sun-dappled interior and its soft pine bed.

A pretty, white wildflower was in perfect bloom.

 And a round mound of moss was warmed by the sun.

I was able to study the work of the beaver 
and marvel at the size of the tree it felled some months ago.

In the photo below, I stood where the heron often lands and I imagined seeing myself walking along the shore of the pond, camera aimed in the direction of where I stood.

Jack became the cameraman as I tooled around the pond in amazement and delight. The large snapper passed a foot below the board. I was filled with joy at seeing it far from shore and swimming in its water world.

At its deepest, I think the pond is not more than ten feet in depth. 

Much of it is two to five feet deep.

After seeing the goose eggs, I studied the shore for more nests, 

any kind of nests, but didn't see any.

In the photo below, I had a brand new view of the living quarters of the red-winged blackbird families. This area of reeds fascinates me. It sits in one corner of the pond and already this year, the males are sparring over it and the females hide deep in the shadows. 

If you've followed this blog for some time, I think you can imagine the tranquil pleasure I had paddling around the pond. It was a perspective somehow both familiar and new. I saw so many of the things I've written about and taken pictures of for years. But I felt much more a part of their world. 

This experience began a year ago when my observation skills, which have come a long way in the last five years, finally spied the oddity of a square "trunk" obscured by pine branches on the island. Planning for closer examination and identification led to a great discovery - the island's name, and a tremendous view - from a paddle board - of the pond I love. Thanks Jack.

*********************

A correction about the eggs:

I returned to the pond with the SUP (stand up paddle-board) a couple of days after I took the photos of the eggs and I looked again at the nest. Low and behold, a female mallard sat upon it! Just goes to show, don't put much credence in what you read here! Consider this the work of a naturalist-in-training! Here she is!

And while this mama sat patiently and protectively, 

a new mama, below, nervously took her brood of nine ducklings around the pond.

As I paddled at the far end, a red-tail hawk swooped down from a nearby tree, its wings wide and its claws threatening. The female mallard flapped her wings and I cried, "HA! HA!", and the babes were spared. This mother has no small job in keeping her offspring safe.

Jack took the photo below of the hawk, back on its perch, just waiting.

(Click on any photo in the post 

and scroll through the enlarged pictures.

Photos of me, by Jack.)

Mother Nature Pulls Out the Stops

Today was the first full day of spring and today was my birthday. Mother Nature pulled out all the stops and gave me a glorious day at the pond. It was so beautiful, I went for two walks. If you follow SilverLining you might recall that when I posted about my last birthday it was a snowy and dismal day. I wrote last year about the extremes in weather that have occurred on my birthday through the years. If you look at last year's photos and the photos in this post, my point is made!

I marvel each year at the buds on the trees and wonder as I look at them how they will unfurl and become leaves.

The bottom of the pond is already showing signs of things growing and the soil beneath the water looks rich and ready for the myriad life forms that rely on it.

Birds have begun nesting, as the morning dove below shows. It holds a stick in its beak, one of many it will use to assemble its home for the season.

While the male red-winged blackbird has been here for over a week, the females have just arrived. This flock of females made a constant cacophony, sure to draw the attention of the males.

This dangling left-over from last season always makes me think of native girls who must have used them as earrings and necklaces. 

Fish by the scores are swimming about - so early in the season! And in the photo below, you can see what I imagine to be the rich film of whatever it is that floats atop a pond and provides sustenance for the soon-to-hatch bugs of all manner.

While the picture below won't make you feel the heat of the day, 

I can tell you it was a hot one!

The muskrat is luxuriating in the heat of the sun, submerging only when it decides I'm too close to it. It leaves a splash behind but no other sign that it's below the surface.

Now, before the leaves block my view, I can see into the tangle of branches and take pictures of the birds that are gathering to make their home for the summer.

It's always a happy day in spring for me when I first see a turtle! So, I considered it a special birthday gift that I saw my first turtles of the year on my birthday! 

First, a painted turtle, and minutes later a snapper!

Below, a fish lazily moves along, as if it were a long summer afternoon. It is remarkable to me that these scenes are all from March 21st.

I've come to see the American robin in a whole new way. Because the bird is so common, I've never given it much of a look. But it has lovely lines in its tail, a distinctive ring around its eye, and the color if its beak in contrast to its body color is outstanding!

And it cooperates for photo-shoots!

I believe the posture above is one of the distinguishing characteristics of a bird - the swivel of the head fully around.

Notice the eye in the photo above. It has a film over it. I wonder if this is the bird blinking. Is that film the eyelid?

While the reflection of trees in the image above might make you think it's a mirroring of birches, actually the trees are all grey colored. But the light of the sun - on the trees themselves or on the water's surface (I'm not sure which) - create this lovely bit of art.

Sometimes the camera captures what I see. Sometimes not. My eyes were drawn to the intertwining trunks of these young trees and the play of light upon them. I hope you can see it as I did.


Happy spring!

(Click on the first image in the post and scroll through the collection of photos.)