Sunday, April 22, 2012

It is a cold damp day today. A bit on the raw side, I set a wood fire in the stove to drive the damp chill away. On my walk today I investigated the vernal pools again. Last weekend, I found wood-frog eggs and some of those are hatching out today. When I lifted a mass up in my hand, it almost disintegrated and I could see miniature tadpoles within the mass. On the outer edges they were beginning to break free and swim away from my hand. I also found some salamander egg masses this time. They must have been laid some time during the week, even though it was pretty dry. Those masses were still quite solid and firm when I held them.

The trees are budding forth. I have noticed the changes on the hills when I drive into work. I used to attribute the first green to the poplars, but I have noticed that the black cherry has budded out first, and then the poplars. The hills reflect a very subtle reversal of the fall color scheme. The maples shed a glimmer of red and orange from their flowers, then their little leaves unfurling, and the beech buds shimmer golden as they begin to swell.

Yesterday, I took a close look at an emerging maple leaf, and was struck with the similarity of the human hand. I know, it has a palmate leaf shape, and I use that when helping children to learn to identify maples, by putting our hands over a leaf so they can see what that means. But yesterday, as I looked at the little wrinkly red leaf opening up, it looked so much like the wrinkly red hand of my children just when they were born. They say patterns in nature repeat themselves over and over. It points out to me how interconnected we are to the natural world around us.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Yesterday, I took my walk in the evening. It had been a hot day and after spending the morning in town, I returned home and labored in the gardens. It seems every winter the snow covers a nursery hotbed of dandelions and sheep sorrel. It can be a nice chore to try to eliminate them in the early spring before it is really time to do much planting. I enjoyed the hot sun on my back, listening to the birds, and checking out my ever-improving soil. And, the chickens enjoyed getting some fresh greens in their pen, as that is where I dumped the weeds.

On the walk through the woods to my daughter’s house , I discovered that the trailing arbutus had blossomed. It was my mother’s favorite spring flower, and yesterday was the anniversary of her death. I held still for a joyous moment of remembrance and honoring a woman that instilled much that is good in me, including my love of the natural world. I may have grumbled and complained as a teen when she had our entire lawn tilled so she could plant perennials, and groundcovers. Then in the next house the neighbor’s crumbled and complained when she let the back yard turn to a field of black-eyed susans.

I looked at the “new den” being dug. There seemed to be more activity there, yet it seemed less like the creation ofa home. Maybe the animal found a good cache of insects, or some other fancy treat. I will continue to monitor the changes that are going on.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

I went into town early this morning to run errands, so no early morning walk. On my way home I went the route that takes me by the power-lines that cross over the Passy River. I have been coming home that way at least once a week to see if the osprey has returned. And, yes, today one was in the nest, looking large and white and quite content. For a second, I thought it was an eagle, until I refocused my gaze and realized I was looking at its chest, not its head.

This afternoon is warm and since the peepers and wood-frogs have been quite noisy in the evening I decided to check for egg masses. I didn’t find as many as I had hoped. In looking in five vernal pools, I found less than 20 egg masses. And the pool that had the most last year only had one. I do know it is a bit early, so hopefully There will be more. I did have to move one branch further into the water as it was already almost touching the bank and would begin to dry out if we don’t get rain. The pools are much smaller this year, which does not bode well for the amphibians that lay their eggs in them.

By the waterfall, I took off my boots and stuck my feet in the water. It is pretty cold, but I couldn't resist on a warm day like today. I do an annual May Day dunk, I think today has been my earliest touching of the water thus far.

I found a new den being dug. There was a scat nearby which looked like it belonged to a canine. Maybe a fox was working on this hole. Or maybe, a fox just decided to leave a mark on someone else’s spot. I also found some weasel scat along the river, and tracks of a raccoon. I walked along the water’s edge, and since I had on my high rubber boots, I periodically went into the water. The dog, which I was dragging along on its leash, did not like that part all that well. I also scared up three ducks when rounding a bend in the river. All in all it was a fairly eventful walk this afternoon.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Today, while I was still lying in bed, the phoebe landed on the lilac just outside the window. Even though one of my neighbors has seen it already this spring, this morning was my first visit from it. It was nice to get such a morning welcome; to not only hear it but to see it while first awakening. The sun is shining after a day and night of cold rain.

I went out last night looking for salamanders, although I must admit it was a half-hearted search. I did not put on my rubber boots, but walked along the edge of my driveway where the vernal pools come up close. Yes that sounds horrific, like someone had put the driveway in where they shouldn’t; and that is exactly what happened. The previous owner and builder of my home put the driveway through the wetlands. I am trying to keep them alive and well, but last night’s walk was one advantage I have of his indiscretion. I did not see any salamanders, but heard wood-frogs and peepers. Earlier in the evening when it was still light, I could see the water moving as the frogs dropped down to hide, so I knew there were quite a few .

I did the closer part of the loop today. Usually I can block out the sounds of human activity, but this morning the sound of heavy equipment was too noticeable from one of the gravel pits across the river. I am not sure which one, sound travels pretty far and it was annoying to say the least this morning. The dog and I heard the flock of turkeys that inhabit the woods near here. It sounded like they were in the garden next door. We also came across a clump of discarded winter hair from a deer. It looked as if I might have grabbed a chunk and deposited it in the path for an unsuspecting dog to find. The dog really did enjoy sniffing his treasure.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Yesterday, I went for a guided nature walk led by a friend of mine. It was at some property in the neighboring town. The land had been heavily logged within the last fifteen years or so, and left looking pretty worn and sad. Then a group bought it and turned it into a non-profit permaculture education center. The land is being restored, but not with the same values that I have. I could be judgmental here, but will choose not to be. Let’s just suffice it to say that I don’t agree with portions of the permaculture ideology which in my mind puts humans at the fore. I don’t think we should always be in the forefront.

The theme of the walk was water. So at one point the leader had us all stop and he spoke to us about the importance of water, how our bodies are not a solid mass of muscle and bone, but really a fluid vessel 90% water. Our skin keeps us from drying out. He then held an imaginary goblet and asked us all to make a toast to water; he to the intricacy of a snowflake, I to the refraction of light in a rain drop, others to the connectivity of water and such. It is a nice thing to stop and take stock of what there is around us, how we depend on it, not only for our existence, but also for the spirituality connected to it. I realized it is my daily walk along the river that helps keep me sane in this ever insane world.

He also sent us on a quest by a small pool of water in a slow stream for the upside down tree. After a few minutes of many adults looking and NOT finding it, he pointed out the reflection, to again remind us to look beyond what he called the ordinary. When a group of children arrived, I told my friend to ask them. Within a minute one of the children said, oh you mean the reflection? A young mind was still able to look beyond the ordinary—or to see something further than what our adult minds had blacked out.

Friday, April 6, 2012

This morning I awoke to the sun shining through the trees on the eastern horizon. A cloud bank was moving in from the west. Fro a brief moment the tops of the western trees were gilded with that early morning glow. The maples bedecked in their red blossom glowed a luminous orange, the pines a silvery green, and the oaks a gold.
By the time I went for my walk the clouds had overtaken the entire sky. Sometimes a clouded sky makes for better clarity on the ground; there is not the harshness of the sun, nor the glare when facing into it. It was quiet in the woods today. Not much bird song, until one moment when I stopped below a dead pine trunk and heard a robin burst forth in gleeful song. I was expecting a moment of stillness when I stopped, but that stillness was shattered by joy and glee. I have been stressed and somber lately; I thank that robin for reminding me to be joyful.

It is still chilly in the mornings, and I walked quickly, in part because I was cold, in part because I was invited to have breakfast with my daughter upon returning from the walk. I liked the idea of spending some time talking with her. The dog and I did flush a partridge, we see many on our walks—or maybe we see a few many times. It is looking like the beaver are deciding not to rebuild their dams in one of the places they had one last summer. The winter’s ice and high water have broken all three. Tonight I should walk down to the swimming hole to see if they are still around that much. There are still no green shoots of grass for them to forage. They must be eating what they have stored or have found small saplings to nibble on. I don’t see any signs of new chewings on my loop, I will need to explore further away to see where they are. Sounds like a walk for this weekend.