April 14, 2007

A morning walk around the summit shows the cold snap has stopped spring dead in its’ tracks. There are still patches of snow in the shadows. It was clear early but by the time I went out, a high overcast had moved in and the sun is just a yellow circle through the clouds. Many half emerged May Apples were obviously damaged, frozen and wilted. The Dog tooth Violets are no farther along than they were 10 days ago. Lots of new branches on the ground in the woods. The after effect of the cold and high winds.

Along the ledges only the Woodpeckers were active. Downy, Hairy, and Red-bellied. A Piliated drummed in the distance. The Barred Owl sat still close to the trunk of a large oak, 40 feet up but only just off the path. There are many large tall trees on the summit. Trees around 200 years old.

Half a mile along, on the other side of the ridge, I can hear some hikers where I had been 10 minutes earlier. The Barred Owl comes sailing low through the woods across the path in front of me and into a deep tangle about 50 yards into the woods on the other side. I try to lure it out with a soft “who cooks for you”, imitation of its’ call. It looks but wont budge.

People don’t realize how noisy and disturbing they are. We tend to shout over the noise of our machines and have forgotten how to turn down the volume. From my observation it is our voices that disturb wildlife, not our presence. If one is quite both in voice and mind, you can walk though the woods without causing much of a disturbance. Human voices, at what we now consider normal conversational level, will carry more than half a mile on a calm day. Away from our machines we need only talk in whispers.

It was remarkably clear and calm in spite of the overcast. The lake was light gray reflecting the sky. The horizon was well defined and I could see detail on the skyscrapers downtown 18 miles away. I could hear the whistles of trains as they moved through Willoughby and Mentor.

The Crows were moving off the summit to the lower ground to the northwest. A long time ago I noticed that corvids, Crows, Jays, Magpies, Ravens, have an interesting way of flying. Their wings sort of flop through the air. Seeing that alone is often enough to enable an identification at a distance.

As I was coming down off the summit, a Red Squirrel scampered by, causing a black morph Gray Squirrel to jump and get well clear. The Red Squirrel is nick named ”rocket squirrel” because they are so fast. The smallest of the tree squirrel clan in these woods they are aggressive. Males will chase down other male squirrels regardless of species, biting their testicles. The Gray Squirrel is wise to be wary. While on the subject of squirrels I have yet to see the Chipmunk. Still hibernating.

Along the creek I found a shovel. A little rusty but otherwise in good shape. Almost new too, because the labels are still intact. The shovel was in my yard but I know where it came from. I have a neighbor who has no respect for anyone or anything. His wife , neighbors, his yard, his tools. I am not surprised to find this shovel. Nor will I be surprised when his kids or his wife, needing to do some digging, will knock at my door asking to borrow an appropriate implement. To me this is just another piece of their trash in my yard. No different from a pop bottle, juice box, ball, or shopping bag. That it has value to me means I will keep it , clean off the rust and use it, rather than just throwing it away as I would with their other trash.

Approaching my back yard I find it amazing the increase in the level of bird activity. My house is on the edge. The edge of the unbroken forest and fragmented sub urban woodland. That is not everything . The bird activity in my yard exceeds my neighbors. I am the only one with feeders, bird houses and the crucial underbrush the birds use for cover.

Outside the back door, a feather! Exciting because it is not an ordinary feather. About 4 inches long, worn, slate gray with a black band just proximal of the light gray tip. Pointed and slightly curved. A primary flight feather of a Sharpie. P3 or P4 from the right wing. Upstairs there is a large dropping on the window below the suet feeder. What happened? The story is here even though I didn’t see it happen. The Sharpie made a run at someone on the suet. Came in from the west at an angle where the incidence was highly reflective, was a little late in aborting the run, cut loose a dropping and brushed its’ wing against the glass as it turned. The feather was already old and came out as a result of the contact. The shape of the feather causes it to fall straight like an arrow with just a slight spiral.

The feeders are very busy. Goldfinches are predominant right now. An occasional Chickadee and Titmouse too. A lingering Fox Sparrow earlier this morning. The Juncos are sticking to the ground. On the trees the Gray Squirrels are sniffing along the branches. They are feeding on something. They will find it and chew through the outer bark to get it. The gray bark of the Sugar Maples is scarred light orange where they have chewed. Nothing low enough that I can investigate.

The Fox Squirrel has been noticeably absent from the back but conspicuous in the front. I just found out why. The Pyracanth (sp?) has grown to a point where its branches support the Squirrel at the feeder thus avoiding the tilting mechanism. I grab the pruning lopers and trim back the shrub. The Fox Squirrel can find a meal somewhere else. While out in front I take a moment to look at the Red Bud. The beginnings of the buds look bad. Brown and dry. Maybe another victim of the cold? I hope not, I will miss the magenta of its’ bloom.

Movement on the ground in the back. A Chipmunk! I watch it through the spotting scope. So cute! Big dark eyes, little feet. Coat tinted gray from lack of fresh food. Very wary, moving slow, just waking up from its’ long winter’s nap.