Sunday, 18 October 2020
This makes it clear why our ancestors named them white-tailed deer. And to the right out of this frame, two more groups totaling about this number again. The groups should be heading north into the swamp soon—most of them anyway….
I managed to be down at the beach when the sun almost came out for the day. Thankfully the rain we’ve been having has not brought up the lake level noticeably.
Sunday, 11 October 2020
Arose this morning to outdoor temps so low we had frost on the roof, although not on the grass (…small favors). We are clearly in autumn, yet winter is making a reminder-bid.
Had laid a fire in the wood stove (really a coal stove repurposed) last evening, so fired it up when I came downstairs. Soon the place was warm, and I’ve kept a small fire going all day. We’ve been toasty!
Afoot during my afternoon walk, these two didn’t notice me for quite a while; I was downwind and not moving much. I was interested that the fawn saw me first and jumped, which mom noticed, then looked around to see why. And they both turned tail and leapt back to the field on the right, where a half-dozen of their buds were grazing.
Friday, 2 October 2020
I’m not burying the lede. Our lede. We went to the Refuge, and saw swans. And a few other waterfowl. And a raptor-type something or other, I think.
The light was odd and not always helpful. And I forgot the binocs.
Pouring rain for this shot. Lasted about two big minutes, and this is near the beginning. The wind came up and the rain came in and I rolled the window up. Goodbye, cattails.
In WashDC, the lede this evening is something else entirely.
Thursday, 1 October 2020
I just checked out GooMaps satellite view to see how far this channel goes, as this direction is toward the upper reaches of the catchment. Less than a quarter mile.
You probably can’t pick her out, but just at the last visible bend is a lady mallard paddling away. I think she’s the same one who surprises me most days when I walk this way by jumping into flight while loudly quacking. As she did today. She sure is hanging around this spot for quite a while.
Tuesday, 29 September 2020
I found the sunrise foine, and the sky terrific. I find that channel through the left-of-center especially striking.
I kept hearing sandhills yesterday, and today I caught them cruising just above the trees (right of post), attracted by their calls, which resonate I swear for miles. Just a pair.
You can see only one raven in the dead elm (elm is ID hypothesis); actually, when it flew seconds later, I saw it had a companion.
No Canada geese, however.
Saturday, 26 September 2020
Wishing to give the new fitness device (misleadingly called a watch, which is accurate in that it does tell time, yet has a fuzziness similar to a smartphone—which is far more smart than phone) a tryout, I got out pretty darned early, and paced myself, ending up with a mostly sunny three miles. One darned gorgeous fencerow maple.
And a tree skeleton—an elm, I’m guessing. Rain most of the overnight hours, hence intermittent puddles and mud.
I worked very hard to turn this into moose tracks, but the overwhelming evidence of an adjacent cattle pasture and a vague recollection that moose tracks look like giant deer tracks, and thus are much narrower…forced me to accept the domestic nature of this evidence.
Although clouds were coming in, we went over to the refuge to drive the loop. We did see a few ducks, geese, and swans at a distance, but this dirty great blue heron (?) was the most interesting specimen we spotted. A quiet day for critters.
Dramatic maroon leaves on this small tree.
And the autumn mushrooms are about…or at least they strike me as a different assortment of species from the springtime crop. Or my dataset is skewed and, most likely of all, my observations are based on ignorance.
Friday, 11 September 2020
Here’s a distraction…stunning flower. Sorry the insect is out of focus.
This one isn’t! Giant butterfly! (Well, normal sized, just looks large here.) Amazing detail—and that’s an iPhone photo!
Friday, 14 August 2020
We took a mid-day jaunt to enjoy the (newly rejuvenated) AC in the pickup during the heat of the day, in a generally southerly direction. Do that far enough and you encounter: Lake Michigan.
With small beach-wash zones of aging zebra mussel shells. Invasive species, oh yeah.
We poked around an eventually covered some miles on Batty Doe Lake Road. We thought the side road to the lake looked rather private, so we never saw the lake, but we spent some miles on the road including crossing a huge puddle that was larger than it was deep (we checked with long sticks), and with a good stony bottom rather than much—so: crossable, we judged, and the stalwart pickup (with street tires) crawled through without problem. Yay!
We don’t know when the road was named and could only speculate on what “batty” meant when the name was chosen. Crazy? Loony? (Wrong species). Just strange? (Like chronic wasting disease?) Yeah, we batted around a few ideas; perhaps all were batty.
Some stretches of Batty Doe Lake Road connected active limestone quarries. Limestone dust is almost white, and rather dramatic. We were lucky we encountered no mining vehicle convoys that would have intensely dusted us. Or any other vehicles.
And almost home, we watched this osprey with a fish balanced on a high branch, just looking around. We only saw it because our out-for-a-walk neighbor had spotted it, and we saw her in that looking-up/phone-up photography pose that points to Something of Interest. My theory is that the catching and flying took rather a lot of energy, and we caught the osprey in the resting-before-eating phase. [Without a cocktail, is such a pause still eligible to be called cocktail hour?]
Wednesday, 12 August 2020
We took a drive up on the plains to throw off a building affliction of cabin-fever (hahaha). The plants have filled in so much since I began visiting decades (cough cough) ago.
We encountered pretty full campgrounds by Lake Superior, including many tenters, and goodly crowds at all parking lots we went by with foot access to the beach. That’s far more people than we saw in the early summer when the same campgrounds were almost empty; granted: some were closed at that time.
We checked out blueberry plants by the Fox River (Hemingway was here, or dreamed he was here), and, as we’ve been told: lotsa no-berries. And here: no berries. Consistency in the wild crop.
On our return, we took the wildlife drive at Seney Refuge…pretty quiet as far as other human visitors…in contrast to up by the Lake. We did spot several swans, all dirty headed/necked from the tannic waters of the refuge impoundments. Also a few Canada geese. A pair of Sandhills. Assorted ducks. A large tern with a gaudy orange beak (Caspian?). A loon we were photographing and binocularizing called as we watched; nice touch, buddy!
Tuesday, 11 August 2020
First ground-flock of Canada geese I’ve spotted…preparing to fly south?
My hypothesis: the geese find the giant hay bales nurturing.
A fine shot of Queen Anne’s lace aka wild carrot, an invasive species from Europe and southwest Asia, to honor Joe’s VP pick: Kamala Devi Harris (October baby!, b. 1964), US Senator and former AG of CA.
Also in the news: Big Ten, Pac 12, more cancel fall football (that is: American football).