Here we go again...

On December 17th, in preparation for a neighborhood party, I put out a few decorations, including this little sign, followed on the 21st by about 18 inches of nice white stuff. On December 28th, after we finally made it home from the west slope, through Storm #4 and another 18 inches, The Husband insisted I take it down. And I did! It doesn't seem to have helped; now, we have Storm #5 anyway! A cumulative total of about 44 inches-- and still falling.

Other decorations were similarly fated, especially the little tree that we had inside for the party. A small live Blue Spruce, it had to go back outside so it wouldn't break dormancy. It got buried on the 21st and no one has seen it since! I trust it's cozy under a snowy blanket-- and hope to see it again soon.

Birds aren't the only visitors coming down from the mountains. I went out to a meeting Wednesday morning, and saw three herds of Elk --two on the hogback and a large herd at the golf course in Golden. Naturally, I didn't have my camera with me. Guess I won't be getting out today to photograph them-- but here's one that stopped by in October.

The all-time best picture (and sentiment) is this one sent by Cat Woman during the first big storm (#3), with just three shopping days left til... The dog's name is Stormy, because she was rescued during a big foothills snowstorm a few years ago. Perfect!

Snowy Morning Birds

Storm #5 arrived early this a.m. and already 6-8 inches have piled up. At 7 a.m., it was pretty monochrome-- lead sky blending into the foreground and even nearby mountains faded to invisibility. So the monochrome cat went out, pre-dawn, to investigate.

Her brother, more timid, did his birdwatching behind glass (while mom paced, worrying about the disappearance of the dogs, who finally escaped the drifted fence). At first Gandalf only saw a few Juncos, but then this Steller's Jay showed up, creating a little excitement.

The black-headed, crested Steller's Jay is common in the nearby mountains; they seem to migrate downhill only when bad weather threatens-- that's when we see them at the feeders. Today, all week, just the one so far, though.

Red-wing Blackbirds are not so timid, arriving by the dozens when there's birdseed out! Alas, in the photo, even the Red-wings are monochrome!

I guess recent evidence suggests this is primarily a snowy-weather-bird-blog. Mammalian wildlife is scarce today, though I did see two large canines dashing at top speed across the yard. Soon they'll be exhausted, and in for the day, I hope!

Answer to the Magpie quiz is at yesterday's post.

One More Chance...

River Man and Cat Woman have provided two guesses on the earlier magpie quiz. If they collaborated, they'd have it-- but that would be cheating, right? I'm going to give them -- and anyone else who shows up -- one more chance at this. Here's the photo again:

How Many Magpies??
Who knew Magpie coloration was cryptic, mimicking winter trees? Okay, give it your best shot (do click to enlarge!)-- I'll be back later with the answer.

Okay-- guess everyone gave up! The answer is TEN...

Aftermath...

Yes, Sandy, we did get snow. In fact, I've never seen the foothills looking fancier! See today's previous posts for a recap of our fall/winter weather. Be sure to click on any of the photos in these posts for a closer look.

Here are a couple shots of The Husband digging out with shovel and snowblower. He wanted a photo of the "plume"... In this first photo, that gentle slope in the foreground is the hood of my car!

But I'm not sure whether he was helping-- or burying-- the car (gray thing behind snowblower) in this shot. We are pretty well cleaned out now, the snow stopped on Friday.

Residual side-effects include the dogs using the drifts to jump over fences into the chicken area. Fortunately, chickens are staying close to the coop, don't like wading in drifts-- no casualties so far.

Of course, those of us who are nature nuts are looking forward to great effects on next spring's wildflowers! Another push (like the March 2003 blizzard) to pop lots of great things out of the ground. This is the first wet December we've had in years, and that's marvelous. With 18-20 inches EACH in these last two storms, we should be in great shape. In fact, the weatherfolk report that December 2006 precip now exceeds 2005 winter total.

Homeward the Hard Way

Storm 4, the second of our consecutive Thursday-December storms, arrived while we were driving home from the west slope on December 28th. [Storm 3, if you're counting, was December 21st, and is documented in This Morning's Visitors!] The first 5 hours of our 6-7 hour trip went smoothly, dry roads, clear sailing! The last "hour" of travel, on Interstate 70, lasted from 4 p.m. to after midnight. At about 4:19 p.m., I began to document our progress...

Vail Pass was a snap-- we left Vail at 4, and by 4:20 were already on the downhill side approaching Frisco (milepoint 200)... still sailing, albeit more slowly. Not so for Eisenhower Tunnel (mp 212), where it was bumper-to-bumper at a crawl up, but once through, with "only" 50 miles to go, we were sure the worst was behind us. It was 5:30 p.m.

We were wrong! Here's where we sat... for about 2 hours. Apparently they had closed the interstate without bothering to tell anyone. This spot is just east of Idaho Springs (mp 241), and it's now 9:30 p.m. (I forgot to get the camera out for a while there.) As you can see, people have been walking up and down the lanes, perhaps bored or in search of information, many looking for "rest areas" off in the trees along the service road. Ah, the joys of winter holiday travel. And by now, we'd picked up most of the ski/snowboard traffic as well.

We got moving again after 11, but didn't get to stay on I-70 long! Floyd Hill (about mp 250) was immediately loaded with stuck semis, and our search for Exit 259 ended just 9 miles short. We traveled down Clear Creek Canyon (highway 6) to Golden, much nicer (snowpack and steady 20-25 mph), through this Currier & Ives wonderland.

Nor could we go directly home from Golden-- but were diverted again, finally back on I-70 (westbound this time) at midnight. The final "leg" of our trip was a trudge up the unplowed hill (enjoying this moonlit view to the south) to arrive home at 1 a.m., find the dogs, lock up the chickens, and fall into bed!

Storms Start...

I'm going to backtrack a bit here, to get these storms (now that there are so many of them) in sequence. According to my incomplete notes, the first memorable one arrived on October 26th-- and brought us a surprise visitor.

Those are my lilacs he's eating... note that the leaves are still on them, guess that's what's making them so enjoyable. As you can see, he's standing in only a couple inches of snow from this early storm.

We see Elk here rarely, so this big bull was followed around the neighborhood by a network of phone calls alerting each house in turn. The lilacs are about 20 feet from our front door.

Storm 2 arrived on Nov 30-Dec 1, and dropped about 8 inches of nice white stuff. It brought a visit from Artemis (or a friend), who killed a Scrub Jay right next to the chicken coop. Her aim must be improving; a jay is a tougher meal. No photos this time.

This Morning's Visitors

Snow brings great bird-watching, as an assortment--and quantity--of birds flock to the feeders. As most of the country knows by now, we've been getting dumped on! [This storm is now labeled "Storm 3" for purposes of keeping track.] This morning hundreds of birds--mostly Juncos, Sparrows, and Finches--have been coming by for treats. There are also a few Starlings, Towhees, Crows, Magpies, and of course the Scrub Jays.


When I put out suet earlier this week, I was hoping it would help out the woodpeckers and flickers. Instead, this little Downy Woodpecker decided to go for the thistle seed!

Three Juncos wait their turn at the thistle feeder, while the Downy gets his fill.

The Husband cleared a spot on the porch to put some seed where it wouldn't get immediately buried in snow. When all the little birds disappeared, we knew Artemis, or her new fellow hawk, was in the area. I saw the swoop, and looked out windows trying to spot her/him.


I was scanning too far afield, and in the trees. Finally, I spotted him, just a few feet from the bedroom window (note the indoor potted plant), with an unlucky Starling for breakfast, right on top of the birdseed just put out for the little ones. The spots mark "him" as Speck, our new local Sharp-shinned Hawk. He soon took off with his meal, so I never got a better shot.

When I put out suet, it attracts Black-billed Magpies. So here's a small challenge for you. How many pie-birds in this picture? Answer will be posted tomorrow. (Remember, you can click to enlarge the photo!)

There are Two of Them!

We've been watching young Artemis, the local sharp-shinned hawk since the spring equinox post that launched this blog, so three-quarters of the way around the year. She visits when it snows, so this picture was taken when she stopped in last week. After the Nov 30th snow, she came by to kill a scrub jay by the coop, then, next day, a junco under the lilac bush.

She has, in recent months, lost the white spots on her back.



So the spots told us that this sharp-shinned hawk, now dubbed Speck, was a different bird. Many of the neighbors have now reported seeing these small hawks, but we'll have to hone in on which sightings go with which bird.

A Coyote a Day, Today

This is the scene, as of 7:30 a.m. Winter coming this week, the weather guy says, but so far just chill and damp; not even a hard frost yet. The Rabbitbrush is in full bloom, as you can see.

Daylight, time to let the chickens out, but when I looked out to do so, I saw a Coyote just outside our fenceline. I stepped out, let her see me, and made a little noise. She opted for a different direction, back down into the park. She’s there, in this picture, but her voice is the only evidence. She/they is/are yipping and chatting just out of sight. I let the dogs out back, and now they won’t come in to go out front and monitor the situation. All cats are accounted for.

And THEN I reached for the camera. Ah, presence of mind!

Finally the dogs come crashing back into the house and out the front door. Their mad dash to the fence tells me they haven’t forgotten which direction Coyote went. All is quiet.

I’ll wait a few minutes more before I let the chickens out.


Compare spring views here.

Countryside Musings...

It's fall over at One Deep Breath, and the theme for this week is Countryside. I've been reading "Last Child in the Woods," by Richard Louv, and growing fearful for the future of nature. (Although he also reports many encouraging steps to overcome what he's calling "nature-deficit disorder.") So today's prompt brings us this:

crisp leaves line the path

it's fall in the countryside

where are the children?

I'm still looking for a photo to match my memories of shuffling through the leaves, inhaling the sweet scents of fall in the woods. Hope to have one up soon.

For more on this inspiring book, please see: Why Kids Need Nature, a review for parents that discusses Louv's book and its key points. And head for the hills this fall, with your kids!

Check out other countryside experiences at our weekly haiku gathering.

Solitude as Hyper Fib...

how
it
calls me
from other
points on my life path
where to find wabi sabi now?
in the wild where solitude rests forever alone

If we extend the fib concept for another line, we have the "hyper fib"-- which may, in fact, ruin the terseness of the form, but can still be fun to play with. I suspect blogger will play havoc with the shape of this and give me a few extra line wraps, unfortunately.

Solitude: so rich to roll around the mind. Inner solitude is often available. But for physical solitude, I turn to thoughts of deep woods, especially those of the northeast U.S. where I grew up. It was never obvious to us as children that it was tame. Trees gave the illusion of solitude, getting lost in the backyard. Here, midst the playground of a major metropolitan area, solitude in the "wild" can be tough to discover. What do the kids do for solitude in such an environment? More haiku on Solitude at One Deep Breath.

Perhaps when the time comes that
there is no more silence and no more aloneness,
there will also be no longer
anyone who wants to be alone.

--Joseph Wood Krutch

For the rest of this quote, a larger excerpt at least, please visit Romantic Naturalist.

Season of Baby Birds

Along with summer here, I missed the “baby bird” season, at least the early part of it in July. Caught the tail end of “begging food from parents” season, a truly precious time of year. In August, though, the babies are grown enough to come to the feeder by themselves, and we see hordes of young scrub jays, finches, baby towhees, even doves looking for food. The parents almost seem to have disappeared, but perhaps we aren’t looking closely enough to distinguish them from their nearly-grown offspring.

The scrub jays are hoarding, not eating, and would empty the sunflower seed feeder several times a day if I refilled it. Many years ago, observing our scrub jays this time of year, I put their story into limericks. Can this be a more effective way to do environmental education? Painless, even? It’s certainly more fun!

The Circle of Life

A garrulous bird is the Scrub Jay
He sits and he cackles all day
     For sunflower seeds
     To meet his winter needs
Then hides them wherever he may.

From sunflower seeds put away
By Scrub Jays against a cold day
     And never recovered
     My yard is now smothered
With sunflower plants gone astray.

If Scrub Jays could plan while they play
I’m sure they’d be happy to say
     These sunflowers reseeding
     Are going for feeding
A new crop of Scrub Jays next May.

Scrub Jays were an early topic of this blog, when I started it in March. For photos, see Lining up for breakfast, and for a jay adventure, see A Scrub Jay in the Hand.

Apropos of Nothing...

Why have I not been blogging of late? It’s hard to say, tough to figure out. Maybe the busy-ness of summer, maybe the fact that I am, after years of wishful procrastination, getting organized. Trying to transform my so-called “study” into less of a deep storage cave with a narrow path to the computer, and more of a pleasant work space where I can pursue the passion du jour.

I got a labeler… a used 5-drawer file cabinet, THREE new bookshelves, several boxes of file folders (at the same time!). So why not have high hopes that, this time, I’ll be able to find things without launching a week-long search?

The labeler is especially for the file folders, so one may spontaneously create an appropriate folder in seconds each time the mood strikes or a piece of paper simply must be saved for future retrieval. This morning I thought I might also make labels for each new shelf in hopes of being able to find the books as well as the files. How about simple one-word informal names for the 13 new shelves? The first three led to this haiku:

“green … garden… spirit…”
captures my true life in books
labeling new shelves.

I deeply appreciate universal chaos; perhaps even more than the next person. Why get organized this time, after years of reading self-help books and striving to make time for same? I think because I realize that time is more constrained looking ahead, and can ill afford to be wasted, and I know I have wasted weeks, perhaps months, of the last decade merely looking for misplaced information or objects. Also, facing a new project that will be complex and demanding necessitates better organization and efficiency.

The book that got through to me, I guess, is a borrowed one I read while traveling this summer: Get Organized! By … See, just spent several minutes looking in my notebook for the place I wrote it down! Perfect example of why I needed it. There you go.

Haiku, um... Wednesday?

Okay, Sunday then! I've really been enjoying last week's posts over at One Deep Breath-- where our challenge is "the sound of music," and oodles of new talent is appearing! I've had a fun week getting acquainted with all the new contributors, as well as seeing what our regulars have to say.

Time to give up and join in! Here's the one I actually did write on Haiku Monday:

two crows in one tree
calling on the morning breeze
day's music to me.

And here's one to inject a little levity:

last night it got late
"I'll do the dishes," he said
Music to my ears.

And, did you notice, "music of the spheres" not only rhymes but has the same syllable count? So here's one more for good measure.

music of the spheres
singing from all Nature brings
music to my ears.

Alas, it's as if FF is still on vacation-- not just The Trip, but even now that I'm home! So I have a huge backlog of ideas I just need to turn into pixels. One of these days, I'm sure, I actually will!

Coffee and Tea... Haiku Monday

I missed out on the "ceremony and ritual" assignment at One Deep Breath, but today's challenge will do nicely. Is it cheating to use a haiku written earlier? Morning tea and coffee are an enduring ritual at our house, quiet time together...

Cold morning, hot tea

The one I love beside me

Two cats on the bed.

Scenic Route Fibs

Okay... Promised, fibs were-- and here they are! Below are two views of Lizard Head Rock, aka Tunnel Rock, in Red Rocks Park.

this
road
goes home
more slowly
winding through red rocks
giving time for contemplation.

to
home
this goes:
winding road
better than freeway
quiet and much more respectful!

Thanks for all your comments! It is indeed a fascinating place and a great distraction for the trip home. You've inspired me to get back to work --and post more photos--on the main Red Rocks site--soon! Meanwhile, please see details on these rocks on the long-neglected Local History Explorer.

The Scenic Route

For Haiku Monday, this week's assignment is to take the road less traveled.

I can reach my destination on the interstate, or... not!

the four-lane is fast,

but I'd rather go slowly

where red rocks beckon.

Oh! Bet this would make a good fib assignment too!

For more on this location, see Historic Red Rocks!

And Here's the Frog...

Courtesy Linda, who took me to the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in the first place, here's our leopard frog pal... My photo of him didn't come out at all.

A Raft of Haiku

This week's challenge from One Deep Breath was "garden." Well, that struck a chord, or two actually! As haiku are addictive, I'm going to indulge in a few today. (Thanks for your patience.)

The Garden: first thought was the wonderful garden-in-progress we visited in Maine, the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens. Worth a visit, formally opens next year. This summer it's lovely in spots, a little raw in others. But I admired the lichens, we saw a leopard frog along a manicured path, and the idea of wild and tame together caught my fancy.

Brand new Maine gardens
Lichens 'mid tame flowers
Making room for wild.

Or, a variant in Fib form--

New
Maine
gardens
Frog hides here
amid tame flowers.
The wild waits beyond our dim sight.

I love the shape of Fibs when they're centered!

Home Again Fib and Haiku: The Husband, perhaps overwhelmed by the awesome responsibility of keeping everything alive in my absence, did an impressive job with plants I'd almost killed (with neglect) before I left. This photo from this morning documents some of his success.

Herb
plants
look great,
Thanks to one
who waited behind--
I should go away more often.

Welcome morning chores
after weeks of traveling
say I’m home again!

The "morning chores" haiku reflects all the livestock--wild and tame--he had to care for while I was gone. From filling hummingbird feeders (five) to feeding wild birds, cats, dogs, parakeets, and chickens... well, let's just say I think he's glad I'm finally home to help out a bit.

More Overdue Haiku

I've gotten so far behind with Haiku Monday, I hardly know where to start! This week's assignment is to look at something from two different perspectives. So here's my entry, in the nick of time...

Driving west, home from my "magnificient trip," as one friend calls it, I enjoyed driving through a magnificient storm in the vicinity of Champaign-Urbana, Illinois. Many cars pulled over to wait it out, as visibility was nil, but some of us persisted (slowly) in continuing westward. No opportunity for photos, sadly-- I would have drowned!

To the Farmer:

rain falls on croplands
bringing life-giving water,
beans and corn grow tall.

To the Traveler:

sheets of rain buffet
as we try to move forward:
some people just park.

Meanwhile, Back at the Shire

The Husband sends this photo from home, just a reminder of where I used to be... and will be again in a few more weeks!

More "Nature of the East"

I'm finally beginning to go back and get up those missing photos from the trip. Our visit to Watkins Glen NY is now posted at The East is Different, back in June where it fits. The rest will have to go in the wrong places I guess, but will get something up soon.

Journey... Home?

Today's haiku assignment from One Deep Breath is about the Journey. Perfect-- it catches me in the middle of perhaps the longest (literal) journey of my life-- well over 2800 miles and counting.

Today at the beach, I was thinking about the vertical displacement more than the horizontal distance and feeling just a little homesick ... so here's my haiku for this week:

six thousand feet down

our feet find a new ocean

unhomed... Atlantic.

Baffled by Gulls...

I should have paid better attention in the "Birds of Connecticut" exhibit at the Peabody Museum yesterday, because I'm stymied by the variety of gulls we saw today at the beach. I'm going to put up a few, in hopes the Husband (at home with the bird book) will help!

This brown guy was one of the big ones... not sure whether he/she was different from the other kind of speckled ones, or not. Some seemed to have whiter heads, but it could have been a gender distinction, I suppose. They all were certainly fun to watch. The little ones in the top photo, aka "regular" gulls, were the most abundant. There's also a little diver, sharp-beaked plunge into the water. Tern? (per the Museum display?) Too quick to capture by camera, but delightful to watch.



This was the biggest gull we saw. Thought I saw another big one, with black feet, fly by... but this one's feet are yellow... (Bonaparte's pops into mind, but it'd be a wonder if that was right!)

The bigger they are, it seems, the more time it takes to settle their wings when they land. Pigeons come down, and boom, wings are stowed. When these guys land, they have to shuffle their wings (left over right, right over left) a few times before they're comfortable.

We were surprised to see pigeons and sparrows taking advantage, with the gulls, of the pickings along the shoreline. Have a few more shorebirds to post tomorrow!

Guess it's back to the Peabody for me...

Overdue Fibs...

Sorry I've been so scarce here! Lots to tell and show in photos, this trip, but at the moment I'm overdue for an assignment from One Deep Breath. I've been waiting for the photos to come together with the internet connection, but here goes without the visual aids.

The assignment this week is to explore a new haiku formula, called the fib, following the Fibonacci series. A six-line poem with syllable counts of 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8 in the lines. Follow the link above to see more fibs and great photos from the haiku team.

I'm at New Haven (CT) now, and have been through a lot of rain to get here. (Still trying to send some of it home.) Yale is beautiful, but the first sunny day was Friday. So here's the fib:

Sun
peeks
out through
constant clouds
drying up puddles:
a day to furl the umbrella.

More eastern nature notes soon, I promise...