April 26,2007

Getting ready for work this morning I heard a bird hit the window in the library, Before I can investigate another hit! It is my habit to investigate any time I hear a bird hit a window. I will attempt to save any injured bird, or study any specimen. As I said earlier I have yet to find a dead bird since I quit being fastidious about cleaning my windows. I look out the large dining room window, then open one of the side windows to look at the ground below the library. Looking left I see the Barred Owl in the tree about 30 feet away. So, that is what the guys are upset about. They don’t like having an Owl in the yard now that it is getting light. It doesn’t matter that the Barred Owl does not make a habit of dining on birds. Frogs, snakes, small mammals, are its’ preference, although given the opportunity it will not ignore a feathered meal. The Owl looks at me for a moment, gives a low ”Who who ouw ho”, and flies off.

Heavy rain today but it warmed up considerably. 61° when I started my after work walk. Everything is soaked and there are large puddles everywhere. The creek is running fast and leopard frogs hop in as I cross the bridge.

The woods are completely different. No longer gray and brown there is an even spackle of light green everywhere. The leaves are working their way out of the buds. New herbaceous plants are poking through the dead leaves on the forest floor. Solomon’s Seal, Solomon’s Plume, Jack in the Pulpit, and Trillium are the ones I recognize.

I have the summit to myself today. It is cloudy, and the air is still heavy from the rain. What a difference being here by myself makes. Chickadees are calling “fee bee” A pair of Piliateds are clucking to each other on the other side of the summit.

From the lookout I can barely see the horizon. Visibility is just over 25 miles. It is clearing over downtown Cleveland to the west., but directly to the north it is hazy and still quite dark.

Here the Piliateds I have been listening to are close by. They are in the Hemlocks and Maples along the north west ledges. They fly from tree to tree, on some business I don’t understand. They stick to a small area, perhaps 50 yards across. Clucking back and fourth but not getting close to each other. I am able to observe this from fairly close, only about 20 yards away. They seem oblivious to my presence.

A little bit along, about 10 feet up in a tree, next to the trail, Mrs. Sharpie! I did not notice her until I was almost past her. We look at each other without making eye contact. If I make eye contact she will take off. But by looking with my peripheral vision, not quite right at her, I can study her in detail. She is studying me in the same manner, not looking right at me. We are ignoring each other while intently aware of each other. A paradox if there ever was one. I have no idea how long we gaze. A minute, maybe 2. Then she suddenly takes off and flies into the deep woods. I realize why. A young girl’s voice and the murmur of adults. They are climbing to the summit. I am no longer the only human here.

Back in my yard I see my pervious prognostication of the demise of the Daffodil bloom is premature. With the warm and wet, new flowers are everywhere.

There is a woodpecker hole, in the siding below a kitchen window. I did not patch this in the fall because the Bluebirds were using the cavity as a communal roost. Mrs. Bluebird flies out this hole as I approach the house. I wonder if they will nest there instead of one of the 2 boxes I provide? I guess I had better not repair the hole. I don’t mind sharing my house with Bluebirds.

Tomorrow will probably be a good day along the lake. I have to work, but Ray, Jerry, and Jim are sure to find good birds. This weather pattern will bring in lots of new migrants. If the same pattern holds I will go there Saturday morning. Probably to hear: "you should have been here yesterday". Oh well.