Adventures in Lawn Mowing

For the last couple of years, my neighbor's daughter has been providing lawn service. I thought that, since opportunities for making some spending money were pretty slim during the whole pandemic experience, she might enjoy a chance to earn a bit of cash.  She did a great job and I was hoping that she'd want to do it again this year.  Alas, she's getting old enough now that she would rather go to soccer camp, swim and hang out with her friends. I certainly can't blame her, but I had to come up with another plan for cutting the grass. Naturally, I thought it was about time I purchased a lawn mower. 

Doesn't this look like the perfect solution to the problem? Innovative, uncomplicated and doing extra duty as exercise equipment and functional sculpture - what more could one ask?

No, that's not the mower I bought, but when I saw this beauty while on vacation in the Upper Peninsula a while back, I thought it was brilliant and definitely worth sharing.

Birds of Different Feathers

There is always a lot of activity in the big rye field, especially in the spring when these pictures were taken. 

Sandhill cranes are some of my favorite visitors. They are such quiet and graceful creatures - usually.

At least, until they start their mating song and dance. The loud calls can be heard from quite a distance.

I have yet to catch them leaping and dancing, but my brother and I recently managed to spot a mated pair and two youngsters stepping stealthily through the woods near one of the little ponds we have been trying to entice wood ducks to use for nesting (they haven't yet, but we continue to hope).

On this particular morning, the crane was joined by a hen turkey and a raven. They each seemed to enjoy the company, because they wandered around together for quite a while, munching on whatever delicious delights the rye field version of a tea party served up for them.
 

A Peony for Your Thoughts

The grounds of the neighborhood restaurant Baloo and I walked through in the morning (so that he could look for tidbits of food left behind by messy outdoor diners) has some nice little gardens.

This time of year, the peonies are putting on a spectacular show. 

I thought I would share a few of the showy blooms. 

The colors and textures are such fantastic eye candy!

While the crows and seagulls (and probably raccoons and skunks) are taking advantage of the fact that Baloo doesn't beat them to the early morning snacks, I'm taking our daily walks and wishing he still walked beside me, hunting for the odd calorie. When I get really restless, sad and at loose ends without him, I think about what he'd want me to do and the answer is almost always: take a walk! So, I hit the trail. He loved his walks and will always walk with me in my heart. 

Sparrow Me the Details

It's officially the first day of Summer. Appropriate, I suppose, as a heat wave is hitting this area. Since it's going to be toasty upstairs and outside today, I may take advantage of the cooler temperatures in the basement to get a little Stampeaz work done. The packing area is a disaster and needs to be cleared out and I need to place a Speedball order, too. 

But first, I'm going to sing the praises of this little brown bird. A casual glance would only show you a plain sparrow without a lot of pizazz. That would be misleading.

Not only does it have some pretty interesting plumage, with stripes, speckles and a bold spot on its breast, when it fills that breast with air, something spectacular happens. 

  

The music! This tiny operatic performer will belt out its tune for hours, staking territory and charming all within hearing distance (which is quite some way). 

It's called a Song Sparrow for a very good reason. During my childhood, we always said that we could tell the song sparrow's tune because it ties a knot at the end. Listen for it and perhaps you'll hear the twist in the melody. 

Happy Summer!

Formal Introductions - Or - The Honest Stork's Fringed Slipper

While on the lookout for new friends (and favorite old acquaintances) during springtime rambles in the woods, I met a couple of unknown beauties. So, focusing on the purplish-pink petaled people, I did some research on my new bosom buds.

This plant is called storksbill, a name that has to do with its seed pods that apparently look like bills and can jettison their seeds up to 500 yards away using a mechanism known, appropriately enough, as "ballistic dispersal". The seeds also have an amazing ability to drill themselves into the ground like a corkscrew, digging back and forth clockwise or counter clockwise, depending on humidity. Clever seeds!

 

It also has quite an impressive  list of medicinal uses, but must be gathered with care because the first year's growth of this biennial plant can resemble the leaves of deadly hemlock. I think I'll just wait until blossoms are attached, so it's easy to identify!!

This next bright blossom is called Honesty. It's also known as a money plant, silver dollar plant, moon plant because of the round, papery seed pods it creates. I've seen the seed pods many times, but never associated them with this flower. This isn't a native plant, so it must have escaped from someone's garden to set up housekeeping along a woodland trail.

These last two beauties have been friends since childhood. They were two of my mother's favorite spring ephemerals. First, the fringed polygala is a member of the milkwort family and was used in herbal medicine to treat skin inflammations. The really interesting thing that I learned about this plant today is that it not only has the showy flowers above ground that are pollinated by insects, they also have flowers underground that self pollinate, without ever opening. Very resourceful!

And sort of saving the best for last, the pink lady slipper orchid obviously gets its common name from its resemblance to a formal dancing slipper. It's an unusual plant, since its seeds have no nutrients in them to aid in sprouting and growing. They rely on fungus in the soil to break them open and feed them as they grow. Once the plant matures, it returns the favor by feeding the fungus. The roots of the pink lady slipper were once used to treat anxiety, but they are a protected plant and illegal to harvest or transplant (they wouldn't do well away from their fungal friends). Also, bees find themselves trapped when they enter the front slit of the slipper and can only escape by one of two routes, forcing bees to deposit any pollen they picked up from another flower before passing the pollen mass to load them up for their trip to the next bloom. Forced pollination.

I know I'm a little odd, but I enjoy learning unusual tidbits about new and old friends. I hope there's some entertainment value for those of you who choose to read the ramblings of the hopelessly curious...

Marsh Madness

There are a number of wetland areas and little streams that border both sides of roadways and paths in the general neighborhood. Sometimes, residents take advantage of the secret passageways that run from one side of the road to the other.

This muskrat was one such sneaky little traveler. Baloo was still with me when we took this walk and he was completely enthralled with the muskrat appearing from the culvert and darting back in again at the sight of us. He wanted to go investigate in the worst way. Happily for the muskrat (and me, since I didn't have to deal with swamp dog), he didn't get his way.

Baloo didn't have nearly as much interest in the marsh marigolds that were blooming along the way, but he patiently waited for me to take pictures. I have always liked their sunny blossoms. 

Hidden Stick, Crouching Spider

The flowers of springtime are welcome sights, whether in orchards, woodland hillsides or gardens.  They can sometimes hide danger for the unwary insect, though.

 

I like the clever little crab spiders that camouflage themselves to closely match their hiding places and lie in wait for their prey. This one is tucked away, utilizing a bit of debris on a trillium's sepal as a perch, hoping to launch a surprise attack on an unwary visitor.

This one has taken on the reddish-orange coloring of the apple blossom anthers. I think it's pretty, in its own hidden ninja sort of way.  

Finally, this stick insect has managed to capture an unsuspecting fly. It hides along stems and twigs, rather than on blossoms, but is every bit as dangerous to its prey.  I rarely see the younger stick bugs like this one, but rather their adult selves that look far more like twigs. When I was a child, spotting one of these tricky fellows was always fun. I don't know how rare they are, but sightings are pretty uncommon, in my experience, so their ruse of hiding among the trees obviously works quite well for them.

A Crown of White

White-crowned sparrows travel through the area in the spring, flying north from their winter vacation playgrounds on their way to summer nesting territories. 

 

They often stick around for a few weeks, eating and resting before going on the next leg (or wing) of their journey. Their markings are very striking, making this sparrow an easy one to identify.

Rarely, a pair will choose to nest nearby and that's always a special treat. No such luck this year, though. 

I'll look forward to seeing them again in the fall when they're heading south again.

A Pair 'o Ducks

I know, I know! Another bad pun. I don't seem to be able to help myself.

 

There is a bit of a low spot along the trail that turns into a very large puddle for a couple days after a good rain. Ducks frequently take advantage of this phenomenon to paddle around and bathe. (These two weren't too concerned by my passage and simply stepped to the edge and waited for me to go by, taking the chance to preen before hopping back in again.)

There's plenty of other water around, with a wetland and creek nearby, not to mention the entire bay, but I guess that's why mallards are often called "puddle ducks".

I know that Madam Mallard isn't as colorful as her mate, but I love the clever camouflage pattern of her feathers. The brown, beige and tan combination can allow her to simply melt into near invisibility.

Monsieur Mallard, on the other hand, is a stand-out fellow with his iridescent green head. Also, if you look closely at the light tan feathers along his sides, there's a beautiful pattern in them as well.

While I know that mallards are pretty common, I still think they're uncommonly pretty - and friendly.  The ducklings are hatching, so there will soon be pictures of the little fuzz balls bobbing on the bay with mom.

Flag Day

I did a little research about today's holiday. It seems I've known and remembered Flag Day forever, but I realized this morning that I wanted a refresher on its history.  In case someone else might be in the same position, I thought I would share a little about what I learned. 

 

At the beginning of the American Revolution, colonists were fighting under multiple flags, depending on their region and regiment. In 1775, the Second Continental Congress met to create the Continental Army in the hope of unifying and organizing the fighting force, under "Continental Colors". Different possibilities were suggested, but rejected for things like having the Union Jack as part of the design, which seemed like the wrong message.

On June 14, 1777, in the midst of drafting the Articles of Confederation, the Second Continental Congress resolved, "That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation." I really like the "new constellation" idea - brilliant phrase.

It wasn't until 1916 that President Woodrow Wilson officially established June 14 as Flag Day, celebrating the anniversary of the 1777 creation of a new symbol of freedom for a new nation. 

This is also the day that the United States Army celebrates its birthday, as that fighting force united under its colors. So, Happy Birthday!

A history refresher is never a bad thing, in my book.

Black and White and a Little Red...

This isn't a riddle about a newspaper. It's only got a little bit of red - not all over.  A lot of striking black and white, though.
 

Well, now that I think about it, a lot of striking, too. It's a woodpecker, after all. (I know - that's as bad as the original riddle and it wasn't intended when I started this post. I just couldn't resist when I saw the word 'striking', and I probably should have.)

So, back to the subject at hand. The female downy woodpecker doesn't have the red patch on the back of her head, so this is the male of the species. I love their toes, which are so perfectly adapted for grabbing trees and climbing up and down the bark listening for bug infestations to bore out of the wood. 

They are very friendly birds and will frequently hang around when I fill the suet feeders (which I'm not doing right now because of the current avian flu issue). 

I miss feeding the birds and having them wait impatiently for me to fill the feeders. Maybe that's why I'm haunting the fields and forests looking for my friends...

Many Thanks!

I want to express heartfelt thanks for all the comfort, sympathy, and good wishes you have sent my way. It's been a very rough time and I'm sure it will continue to be, but somehow, sifting through old pictures, remembering incidents and telling a little of his story has helped a bit, as I grieve the loss of sweet Baloo.

 

I have a feeling I will be continuing to grieve for some time to come, and along the way I may even share some stories as my life slowly reshapes itself, so be warned.

 

How can I help but smile through my tears when remembering a goofball like this one making snow angels - dog style?

I promise that the next blog post will be about something else entirely. 

Again, thank you so much for the outpouring of care. It helped me feel not quite so alone.

Farewell to My Silent Partner

Baloo waited. He waited until we celebrated our 9th anniversary. Yesterday, the very next morning, he had a seizure at around 6:00 as he was waking up and died, so my best buddy has gone over the rainbow bridge and I am completely shattered and bereft. 

I am also so very grateful. Grateful that he didn't suffer, grateful that he got to be at home and I got to be with him, and incredibly grateful that I had nine wonderful years with this amazing creature who taught me so much about love and joy and loyalty and grace.  

Many of you know that Baloo came to me because the rescue group I fostered for needed a home for him immediately. He was next in line to be euthanized and, though I'd been taking a short break after six fairly intense fosters in quick succession, Baloo only had 15 minutes to live because the shelter they found him in thought he was a hopeless case. He had an advanced case of heart-worms and was 20 pounds underweight. (In the picture above you can see that toys tended to collect at the kitchen door, where he brought them as meal tickets. He looked forward and counted the minutes to every meal! His internal clock was flawless.)

Baloo came to live with me and he was so gentle and stoic through all the terrible, continually life-threatening medical stuff.  By the time we were through all that and he was back on his feet, I had fallen in love and we were thoroughly bonded. I couldn't let him go - he became my foster failure and, really, my first dog. (The picture above is of him enjoying  blissful belly rubs at nap time.)

What you may not know is that Baloo, in keeping with his strong, silent type character, has been the mostly silent partner in this blog. While he rarely appeared in person, he's frequently been mentioned as the one who discovered something I shared in pictures and stories. In fact, there are still quite a few blog posts ahead in which he will continue to have a contributing paw - or nose.  (The picture above has him transfixed by a chipmunk that has no clue how much danger lurks behind those golden eyes.)

While the going sometimes got a little rough, he was always ready for an adventure and he loved his walkies, no matter the weather - really deep snow wasn't his favorite, but he still wanted to go. He asked me take him for rambles three or four (and even five) times every day, which usually ended with a sunset walk, watching the evening come down together.

Baloo loved looking for anything interesting to sniff (and when there was contraband in the offing, eat) - he loved going through the grounds of a nearby restaurant, hoping someone had dropped a valuable morsel on the ground for him to devour. 

Scouting the woods for scurrying chipmunks and, of course, dead-things was another favorite pastime. He wandered just a bit, but always kept me in sight. If his attention was distracted, I would sometimes step behind a tree to play hide and seek with him. As soon as he realized he couldn't see me, he came running to track me down. 

When coming to a crossroads or fork in a trail, he'd look back at me and wait to determine which direction we were going to go. I'd often let him choose until we had to turn for home (and he'd sometimes huff at me because he didn't want to cut the adventure short and would rather go a different way). 

 

Now, once again, Baloo has wandered out ahead of me, blazing a trail.

I hope he's surrounded by beautiful fields and woods with teasing chipmunks to chase and treats galore. 

I told him many times daily, "I love you forever." And I do.  

This oversized dog house feels too quiet, empty and hollow now. Baloo and I had a sweet rhythm to each day and I am feeling really out of sync without his little routines to guide me. It's going to take a while to find a different heartbeat to life's song.

Though Baloo has been veiled from my sight, my job now is to live the rest of my life in a manner worthy to be greeted by his great spirit when it's time for me to join him on the other side of that rainbow - he always was so very good at waiting for me when I lagged behind.  And he always brought out the very best in me.

Best Dog Ever! I love you forever.

Two-in-One

My brother asked me about an apple tree he saw blooming and we went by to look at it. It appeared to have two completely different kinds of blossoms on it. At first we tried to make it into two trees intertwined with each other, one with pink and one with white flowers.  But, since we could only find one trunk, we were forced to decide it was one tree with two distinct flowers. Our curiosity was aroused...

 

...so, of course, the research commenced.  

We learned that apple trees cannot be pollinated by themselves and a crab apple is frequently grafted to a standard apple tree so that they can cross pollinate and bear fruit. I had wondered why the apple orchards around here all have a crab apple growing at the end of each row of trees and now I know. 

I figured it had to be more than a fashion statement.

Happy Anniversary to Us

It has been nine years since this sweet boy came to live with me. Little did I know then how much Baloo would change and enrich my life. We've seen each other through some rough times. 

He makes me get out for several walks every day, so I get to see all the subtle seasonal changes, regardless of rain, snow, sleet or shine. He points out creatures I might otherwise have overlooked, which have occasionally appeared here on the blog - and there are a couple more coming up shortly. Also, he missed his calling as a cadaver dog, because he can smell an old, bleached deer bone at a thousand paces (as well as any other bit of dead-thing that might be anywhere in his vicinity). Hunters have had their proverbial bacon (or venison) saved by having me bring Baloo to track a downed animal. He's outstandingly good at it.

Since Baloo was a starving stray when he adopted me, he's always been a scavenger and reminds me of every meal, treat time and reward that should come his way.  In this case, he got to do puppy pre-wash duty on the yogurt dish and claimed the bowl as his very own. 

Baloo's getting to be a senior dog now (13 or 14 years old, depending on whether we go with the estimate of 4 or 5 when I got him), with some health issues that can scare the willies out of me sometimes. We had a big one this weekend and I wasn't sure I'd get to post this! So, I cherish every day I get to be with him.

Chipping Away

The return of the sparrows in early spring is always a treat. There are many different kinds of these cheerful songsters (and chatterers). My brother, sister and I will happily announce our first sighting of each new variety to arrive home from their winter haunts.

These pictures were taken in early May, so this bird has long since either moved farther north or found a mate to settle down with and raise a family. I'm always happy when I discover some nesting nearby.

This picture made me smile, as it captures the cheeky little devil's personality - it chips and scolds and darts into hiding if I start trying to move closer for a better shot.

While perhaps less visually striking than a cardinal, bluebird or goldfinch, the subtle brown and rust markings have their own beauty. This pert little bird would probably be the first to insist less can be more. I have to agree.

Better Thoughts of a Common Weed

Being the sort that is easily entertained, I enjoy seeing and admiring things that many might take for granted - or even dislike (or declare never-ending war on in the pursuit of a perfect lawn). Dandelions, for example, can be quite charming, given half a chance.

I remember filling May Day baskets with them (along with violets and other early wild flowers) and hanging them on neighborhood doorknobs when I was a small child. They don't fare very well in vases, but I tried that, too. 

Amish families in the neighborhood of the family homestead fry dandelion blossoms and eat them, claiming they are a great delicacy. I haven't tried it yet, but I'm sure I will get around to the experiment at some point - curiosity, don't you know... 

So, despite their general classification as a "weed", when I encounter their sunny blooms with bees humming around them while busily gathering pollen, they make me smile - and I wonder what dandelion honey tastes like.