Outnumbered

Brown, like bark on an Autumn limb, the hawk watched me enter the meadow.

a Across an expanse of green, a distant spot, high in a young poplar tree, pale against a radiant sky, told me that I was out-numbered in this field.

Break in the Weather

We had a refreshing break in the weather this week. 

With temperatures close to sixty degrees, I left my jacket behind and walked toward the quarry.

I had been ill the night before and earlier in the morning but felt I couldn't miss this sunny day for rain was predicted by the next morning. I walked across the field by my home then a short way through the woods, down then back up a small hill which led to the quarry path.

It was nice to see the ground no longer covered by snow

but I soon knew that I hadn't the stamina to continue down the hill. I only made it to the first level, enjoyed the view, caught my breath then headed home where I would drop, exhausted, onto the couch for the rest of the day.

I would have to leave the sunny day for others to enjoy.

    

Fallen Leaves

Multicolored leaves have lost their hold on trees, leaving them bare but not empty.

With the coming of winter a pair of red tail hawks are laying claim to their nest.  This is the same pair that nested last winter, raising a pair of still-active offspring.  Red Tail Babies This was the first day I've seen the on the nest, but that may be because leaves kept them hidden. I don't know the sex of the hawk in the tree. even if I could see it closely, I may not know enough to know.  Nearby was a family member. (The hawk's family, not mine)

A good friend told me of his experience while deer hunting up on the hill above the nest tree.  While my friend was standing very still a chipmunk ran by then stood still, upright. At that moment, one of the redtails swooped down and claimed the small rodent for its breakfast.

Meanwhile, I have found many of the fallen leaves. . . A sugary pile has accumulated on this apple pie.

Young Hawk

Young hawks evidently have much to learn.  Since their first flight, we have watched "our" hawks slowly mature.

They have stuck close to the nest as each learns to hunt and catch prey.  They still appear to need to learn how to "hurry away" and avoid humans. We often catch them on the ground by the driveway, taking their time before flying away.

We stopped in the road to watch this one as it relaxed on a fence post, seemingly unbothered by our big blue Kia.

Perhaps it has read the sign behind it and isn't sure just how much "care" is appropriate.

Eventually the young hawk flew up higher into a tree but not before giving us a last long glare.

Hawks, Swamps and Ponds

Here is an update on the redtail hawk fledglings. Lately, one has been standing on the side of the nest. It must be getting crowded in there. With their white heads, they look like eagles unless you know better.  They are gradually turnning all brown, but are still screaming for food.  The white head looks like light shining through the trees.  I wasn't even sure I had a picture until I reviewed what I had taken.

(click on the photo to make it larger.)

Once the hawk realized I was watching, it turned around to watch me back.

I expect soon to see them venturing out of the nest learning to get their own food.

On another note, I suppose I need to call the Williamstown Swamp the "Williamstown Wetlands."  In my May 27 blog entry I asked opinions of "swamp" vs "wetlands." Only two people weighed in on which they preferred, but in my heart  know I must change though I still like the sense of adventure inferred in "swamp."

A recent stop brought this lovely green butterfly (moth?) to my attention.  She was flitting among the reeds and duckweed.  Finally she stayed still long enough for me to find her and focus.

While bumping up our gravel driveway, my father-in-law's pond screamed for me to stop and pay attention. I paused, stopped my car, then got out for a better look. The glassy surface of the pond even reflected a tractor parked in the barn.

Weeping willows are made to line water's edge.  It is hard to see where reality stops being real and becomes only an image of that reality.

I'm sure that the grass heads are fuller this year. All the rain and sunshine has been good for making hay.