I've just tossed out scoops of cracked corn for the paired Canada geese who call this stretch of river home. At the moment the birds are standing on a gravel bar fifty yards upstream…but I've alerted them with a wave and whistle. They won't exactly come when I call, but the irresistible notion has now been implanted. In a few minutes they'll float downstream and climb up the bank for breakfast.
I've also deposited a bit of corn between the cracks in the deck's planks for the little gray vole—"meadow mouse" to some, though technically they're not mice, but a mouse relative—who lives somewhere underneath. Voles have short tails, rotund bodies, and small rounded ears. I think they're cute, though Myladylove disagrees. At any rate I try and feed the little creature regularly, with a thought to keeping it safe by helping minimize its exposure to stalking cats and aerial-attacking hawks.
The great blue heron has been wading about the big riffle in front of the cottage, trying to provide for its own morning meal. So far I haven't witnessed any fishing success—but then I've not been watching all that much, and it doesn't take but a moment for the bird to nail a minnow and have it summarily swallowed.
As usual there's a plethora of squirrels at the feeders. Seven as best I can tell, though possibly more—they're hard to count, being busytailed blobs of perpetual energy.
A female red-bellied woodpecker is investigating the rotting stump I keep for a seed holder near the front door. Red-bellieds, downies, and pileateds are all abundant here, and at least one or two will be part of the feeder crowd practically every minute of any day.
I'm getting ready to head to Lowe's for a couple of boxes of deck screws to finish off a couple more benches for the yard. Last week I built a picnic table plus two unattached benches for my daughter—though they're yet to be delivered. But I was so pleased with the benches that went with her table that I decided I'd modify the design a bit and build three or four along the same lines to scatter around the yard. I'm always looking for a handy place to sit and watch the river.
That's about it so far as a riverbank report goes. An ordinary morning. The temperature is supposed to climb to 85˚F today, with possible showers this afternoon. More summer than spring. But nice weather for this Memorial Day weekend.
10 comments:
All sounds rather idyllic.
What a stunning GBH capture! Thanks for feeding the voles, too.
Penny…
It is…and I'm so very grateful for every such morning, because I understand how easily it could be otherwise. I'm blessed to live where I do. Of course there are days when idyllic doesn't quite fit. But that's life.
Jain…
Wonderful to hear from you!
Would you believe I made the GBH shot while standing in my great room? It was shot through the patio door glass—lens aimed between the dead mayflies suspended in the maze of spider webs!. The bird is about 25 feet away, just lifting off from one of the riffle's stones upon which its had been standing to fish.
And to continue my through-the-windows photo confession, I made the vole pix while sitting at my desk. Some wildlife photographer, huh? Re. the vole, if I'm sitting quietly on the deck, it will come out to feed, right at my feet, well aware of my presence. Too unafraid for its own good, given the red-tailed and Cooper's hawks and feral cats who daily hunt through the yard. So I've been slipping a measure of cracked corn between the planks, in hopes of keeping the little critter from having to expose itself to danger and being eaten.
Hi Grizz - your "ordinary morning' is wonderful - and because it is simply ordinary it makes it so,so wonderful and blessed. Glorious :-) I love your kind and natural understanding relationship with all of the wild-life that share the river with you. Makes me smile ear to ear :-) I would love to see some pictures of your picnic table and benches - k? And of your river cottage too.
And I never heard of a Vole before - you are a good teacher of nature's glory.
Happy Memorial Day
Love Gail
peace.....
The composition of the GBH image is great, even if it was improvised through glass and between dead mayflies. You've caught the bird's gray back feathers and the river's gray rapids--some much alike. And, bird is moving in one direction, and the river's at an angle--two motions caught at once. I'm impressed. Unfortunately, most of the voles that I see are the ones that our cats catch in the basement and then bring upstairs as "gifts" or toys.
Gail…
My parents—especially my father—always taught me to learn and understand my surroundings, to not just observe but join, become part of, the woods and fields. I've always hunted and fished. Gathered plants for food and such. "Used" nature, if you will. But I've also always tried to be a part, to blend in, live with, among, in harmony, respecting and getting to know the general habits and individual quirks of the land and my fellow creatures. I know this sounds pretty New Age, but it isn't. It isn't at all like the attitude of those survival types on the TV shows. It's about gentle living, fitting in, not about struggling, but finding ease, low impact, of going with the flow. I'm no guru, just a guy who's spent a lot of his life rambling the fields and woods, climbing hills, wading creeks, poking around rockpiles and caves and swamps and fens and prairies. I've collected arrowheads and fossils, gathered nuts and berries, ginseng and pawpaws, and made plenty of mistakes and had all sorts of semi-disasters along the way. That I'm still alive is only by luck and mostly the grace of God. But I've learned a lot over these years about nature, the real natural beautiful world, which I dearly love, as opposed to cities and concrete and glass, freeways and fast food, neon and asphalt, which I abhor. That this prejudice comes though, along with any small details or insights, is merely me being me. All the bird and bugs and critters in my blog posts and pix are just "family" members. And I love my family.
Does that make sense?
As to a photo of the table. I'll try and remember to take one and post it here. Don't go expecting anything fancy; it's a very simple cedar-topped picnic table, with separate benches, unfinished, which my daughter intends to paint white. I am not my father the master carpenter and guitar maker who could create anything out of wood. My stuff is, uh, serviceable. Not art. It won't fall apart but it won't win any prizes, either. I could do a little better if I had a proper woodshop with tools such as a table saw, power miter saw, etc., and room to work other than off my pickup's tailgate…but only a little better. And that's honesty, not modesty.
Scott…
Even using my living room as a photo blind, and having the riffle smack in view close by wherein herons regularly fish, it's amazing how many times I spook them before being able to get a shot. They're really alert and watchful, always ready to take off. About nine out of ten shots I do make are compositionally poor to awful. Only occasionally does one come out okay…and this one wouldn't stand much enlargement. (As I remember, I believe the bird was just floating back down to settle on another submerged rock after working water twenty feet upstream.) Anyway, thank you for your nice comments. I appreciate them. As you know I have a thing for herons…
Though we regularly have invading mice—trapping at least a dozen or so each year—I've never seen a vole inside—not in this house or any place I've lived. House mice, mostly, but in certain camps and cabins, deer mice, white-footed mice—but nary a vole. An old farm house, years ago, which had been vacant for a decade before we moved in, was simply plagued with mice the first year or two. One of my two Siamese cats was an enthusiastic and deadly mouser and could often account for several per day. Odd, really, that not once have I trapped a vole inside, since they are widespread and numerous and I see plenty of them outside while walking about.
Hi Grizz - all that you wrote about your natural ease with nature and all its creatures makes such perfect sense. And you are a living tribute to your Dad's and Mom's teachings of living in harmony with the earth and all its inhabitants. As well as your own life's experiences which are vast, valuable and life-giving. I so admire, appreciate and agree with every sentiment. I too am in love with nature and dare not to disturb the wild-life around me - this is all of ours to share. Like you said, "family" :-)
I look forward to seeing pictures of your wood creations - the strength and heart of your woodwork are about your honest character and values and the love of those for which you are creating - from tables, benches, beds, cabinets to bird feeders and bird houses and on and on- you are a creator of goodness in how you live your life and in all that you build and create. I am proud to call you "friend" and thrilled that you call me the same - I grow 10 feet when you compliment my humble life.
Love Gail
peace......
Gail…
I really don't know what to say. I'm humbled by your words, and wish I were deserving of even half such effusive praise.
The truth is, I'm just an incorrigible old Boomer plodding along as best he can on the only path he knows. Finding my way by luck and feel, and fitting in imprecisely, while doing my best to not cause too much damage along the way. I've been blessed with far more than I deserved—and wasted way too much of both time and my gifts. I'd like to think if I had my life to do over, I'd do a much better job…but probably not; I'm too often smart without being wise. I tend to follow my heart rather than my head, and I'd likely continue to do so, experience, heartaches, pain, and failure notwithstanding. I am who and what I am, and that's truly not anything special.
Though I've never wanted to be someone else, I do wish I could be a much better me—more like that person in your comments.
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