Earth Explorations

When one has a bird feeder, one has small birds. And when one has small birds, one may have large birds like a hawk. I have an occasional hawk that visits the backyard. When the hawk--either a Sharp shinned or Coopers I'm not sure which--shows up the other birds flee. Except when they don't. This morning, I saw the hawk perched on the branches and a downy woodpecker, stock still, hiding from the hawk by clinging motionless to a bird food brick. The bird food brick was big enough to be a vision barrier between hawk and downy woodpecker (or DOWO using the American Ornithologic Union abbreviation) but would not have offered much protection had the hawk managed to spy the downy. The DOWO must have missed or ignored what is apparently the universal signal that a hawk was nearby.  I do not like to interfere in the affairs of animals, though you can make the case that in feeding the birds I've already meddled. Fair point. Also, full disclosure: in that moment I was Team Downy. (My...

Full disclosure. The pandemic is kinda kicking my butt when it comes to every day exploration. Acedia, torpor, and ennui have replaced zest, curiosity, and wonder in my emotional makeup. Getting out to explore feels like a huge amount of effort, made more effortful by the cold and short hours of daylight.  Thank goodness for my bird feeder. Well, actually bird feeders. Plural. I have three plus a bird food brick or two. And a heated bird bath. Things haven't gotten out of control. Yet. We'll see where things stand when the pandemic abates. We have a goodly assortment of birds that come visit, the inevitable house sparrows, finches both goldfinch and house finch (and once a purple finch). Juncos. We have woodpeckers of the downy, hairy, red bellied and flicker variety. The red male cardinal and greenish brown female cardinal come visit as do the blue jays. There are fox squirrels, of course, and in the middle of the night the trail cam tells me that skunks, opossum, an occasiona...

COVID19 numbers are high in my county right now which I means I have zero motivation to write. I rashly bought a family sized package of double stuff golden Oreos and a bag of ruffley chips and dip. My motivation is to eat it all, thinking I will somehow feel comforted instead of full of recriminations and regret suffering from a junk food hangover. I'll go on a walk instead. Before I go, I am happy to report that as of yesterday the spider is still hanging out in the ditch. I don't have photos as they came out fuzzy. I'm very aware that the hard freezes are coming and that will be the end. This would not bother me most years but this year it makes me sad as I have enjoyed my visits with the spider.  You know things are rough when you have an emotional support spider. The rubber rabbit brush is finally blooming. I saw a painted lady butterfly and celery looper moth fluttering around.  I also saw flies that look like bees but are actually Rat Tailed Maggots. I thought they ...

 I'll be brief but just had to share. I micro-meandered to the ditch and saw the most beautiful Banded Garden Spider. On one side she was banana milkshake with chocolate syrup lines, on the other she was a dark and light braided wool rug. She had not one but two grasshoppers in her web and I caught her feasting on one. The other had so recently become entrapped it wasn't even wound with silk yet.  A beautiful and unexpected gift. Thank you, Spider.

  My weird COVID19 dreams are back. Last night's dream while weird was kind of nice as I dreamed I saw a slime mold. In fact, I several different types of molds all, now that I think of it, were indoors which is not a great place for mold to be. Of course I ran and got my camera and uploaded the mold photos to iNaturalist. Perhaps I dreamed this in part because I have been busy adding observations to iNaturalist lately. I mentioned a few weeks ago the need to take a meandering nature walk where I look at things just to see what's there and take pictures if the thing I'm looking at will allow it. In the last ten days I've taken three such meanders (not much walking involved) in Badlands National Park, Indian Cave State Park in Nebraska, and the road ditch near my house. The road ditch near my house yielded the most interesting observations of the three. I meandered out there to check on a rubber rabbitbrush that in years past has often had multiple butterflies and bees s...

  I have written elsewhere about the American elms found on the property of my workplace. To summarize, American elms were a favorite of city planners in the 19th and early 20th centuries until Dutch Elm Disease started mowing them down. Anyway, there is a stand of American elm trees where I work that somehow avoided Dutch Elm Disease. I suspect they are volunteers from nearby elms planted long ago since these volunteers seem randomly placed, milling about rather than taking a designated spot. True to the way of elms, the elms in this stand branch beautifully, forming a canopy that creates dense shade particularly in the mid to late afternoons. The arching of the branches reminded me of buttresses in a medieval church, thus I began referring to this area as the Elm Cathedral. A recent heat wave drove me to get my two walks done early in the day. Leaving aside the safety of walking briskly in 100° heat, there are the social mores about being red faced and sweaty at work. But to sit...

 As noted below, I take my walking seriously. I'm the one out there with earphones and arms pumping like I am sprinting the 100 meters at the Olympics. I listen carefully to Coach Hartshorn (the female voice on the Map My Walk app) when she gives me my splits and times, putting a little more burn into it if I'm lagging. Because of Coach Hartshorn I've gotten faster which in the way our society measures things is seen as improvement. There's a reason they call this style of walking power walking. Power walking does not lend itself to deep observing or really observing of any type. If I'm lucky I see the flits and flickers of critters when I power walk, a bird here (one yesterday aptly named Flicker), an insect there, a blooming flower, a tree with the first yellow leaves. Mostly though I'm watching my footing and if I think of it, I look up at the sky. Nature walking is meandering, directed by curiosity, called by sights and sounds that might yield discoveries (o...