River Birch

Here are a couple of photos of river birch bark - such a great tree.  I love the peely look and the colors this tree provides, and it is one of the easier trees to identify.  I always feel like I am seeing an old friend when I come upon one of these.

April Mire

Today's post shares a poem by Robert Frost, called "Blue-Butterfly Day."  It is a favorite spring poem of mine, and I am pairing it with a couple of my photos.  Maybe like me, you have noticed that the butterflies are back, zigzagging over the grasses and stopping at all of the early blossoms.

Blue-Butterfly Day

by Robert Frost

It is blue-butterfly day here in spring,

And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry

There is more unmixed color on the wing

Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry.

But these are flowers that fly and all but sing:

And now from having ridden out desire

They lie closed over in the wind and cling

Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire.

I've always loved that final image - "Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire."  I've seen the muddy ruts left behind after a vehicle has passed by and how, as the noise of it fades away - the insects and birds return to the new puddles in the altered terrain.

Mentha Spicata

Hyperion and I were out walking along the river the other day when he stopped and turned to me.  "I just love that smell," he said.  "It smells like mint."  I could smell it too, and so we looked around to see where it might be coming from.  There at our feet were several beautiful bunches of spearmint.

I plucked a bit of leaf and crushed it between my fingers.  Sure enough - the minty smell burst forth bigger than ever.

I've never found mint growing wild like this, but I have known it was out there.  I just don't know if this mint grew there from an errant seed from someone's garden-variety mint, or if it was a naturally occurring variety.  I've researched the plant a little but haven't been able to come to any conclusions.  

The scientific name is Mentha spicata, and the word mentha originally comes from the Greek minthe.  The term spicata refers to the spikes on the leaves.  

In Greek mythology, Minthe was changed into the plant that now bears her name in order to keep her from improper relations with Hade, god of the underworld.  This connection with the underworld is also evident in the use of mint in ancient burials rights.

Tending to Others

Last spring I saw this sight on the water:

At first I thought, "That's a lot of goslings!"  Later I found out that adult Canada geese will often tend the goslings of others in just this way.  In other words, "It takes a village to raise a child."  As you can see, there are at least 24 goslings in this picture, of varying ages and sizes, all learning to paddle and keep an eye out for dangers and look for food.

This reminds me of my friends, Glen and Sylvia.  They routinely looked after others in their lives, and were a dynamic part of whatever community they found themselves in.

Glen and Sylvia both contracted polio in their childhoods, which led to them being wheelchair bound but did not stop them from living useful and exuberant, busy lives.  They met in college and married, taking on the world together, and raising a family of both biological and adopted children.  Glen had a successful engineering business.  Sylvia taught voice and piano.  They drew people to them with their endearing personalities, wit and kindness.  They were always attentive to the one, and their every thought seemed to be focused on what they could do for others.  The number of souls they tended to in their lifetime is untold.

As their health declined in their later years, they had an increasing need for "helpers" in their home.  I had the privilege of being one.  Being in their presence was an education in itself, as I saw them interact so lovingly with one another, and conduct themselves with the highest levels of graciousness and charity.  

Strictly speaking, I worked for Sylvia, but in reality, I was the one being ministered to.  I had the privilege of spending many hours a week with her, incident to her post-polio, but it was she who served and uplifted me with every conversation, and by her sweet example.  In a way, she parented me, and became a beloved friend, mentor, and confidant.

Sylvia passed away recently, and joined her sweetheart, Glen, who passed away several months ago.  I am so glad that I was one of the flock they drew so close to them.  I hope to follow their example and serve others a little better every day.

Coots

Up until I started photographing wildlife, I hadn't ever really seen or noticed coots.  I've come to know them as very shy birds who hustle away from me the moment they notice my presence.  Most of my photos show them paddling away for dear life, their wake a widening "V" behind them.  They are friendly with other birds, however, and hang out in mixed flocks.

Now and then I get lucky, and manage to photograph more than just their fleeing forms.

I found this one (below), trying to hide in the reeds at Pigeon Creek.  He had undoubtedly been there as I passed by him on my way up the trail, but an active muskrat and some new birds closer to shore grabbed my attention.  I didn't notice him until my return trip along the path.

When I did finally notice him, he held very still - like a child caught in a cookie jar - and pretended not to see me.

I recently saw my first coot on land.  It wasn't until I had zoomed in on him that I realized what odd feet coots have!  They are "lobed" and massive - not like duck feet at all.  Here is a picture to show you what I mean:

This is a mature coot - not a baby that has yet to "grow into" his feet.

The coot is dark grey with an even darker head.  They have white bills, which make them pretty distinctive.  If you get close to them, you will see that they have a red patch at the base of their bills (on their foreheads), and they have the appearance of red eyes.

Their chicks are beautiful, with orange-tipped feathers.  I would dearly love to get a photo of one!

The word coot comes from the Dutch koet, and in modern times the word has become synonymous with a foolish person.

Here is a pleasant picture to end with, of a social group.  This one was taken by my sister Angie, when she was here visiting.  Thanks, Ang!

Photo by Angie S.

A New Bird!

While walking at a river park this week, I noticed lots of little, unfamiliar birds flitting about over the flooded shoreline.  They were too small or were the wrong shape to be the usual lot - robins, cardinals, woodpeckers.  They were fast, and barely rested on any given branch - so it was hard to get a good picture.

In the dim light I couldn't make out any distinguishing marks.  I just knew that they seemed unfamiliar.  The photo below is typical of what I saw.

The bird is below and to the right of center, sitting atop the branch sticking up out of the water - a fuzzy blur.  I took over fifty pictures - trying to get a good, clear shot.

When I got home, I was able to zoom in on the little creatures, and was thrilled to discover that I had photographed a new bird!  Just look at this beauty:

Yellow feathers!  I was amazed.  I didn't know we had any of these around here.  It was a yellow-rumped warbler.  Range maps show that they migrate through this area.  What a find!

The next day, at a different location, I had a similar experience.  There were some little birds in the brush and I couldn't tell what they were for sure, but I had my suspicions.  Here's a typical shot out of about thirty I took that day:

The bird in question is just below and to the right of center.

Imagine my delight when I got home and was able to verify what I had photographed:

This is a male.

Both birds shown here have yellow spots on their crowns, breasts, and rumps.  Both also have a thin, white eyebrow, which distinguishes the Myrtle yellow-rumped warbler from the Audubon's yellow-rumped warbler.

I'm so glad I was able to see these little birds in action as they swooped around the swamp and snapped up numberless midges, and played in the sunny brush near the water.  They will not remain here long as they generally arrive at their northern breeding grounds in late April.

The Wily Cormorant

Crafty.  Cunning.  Sly.

Always diving under the water when I get anywhere within sight of him.

And yet, at last, I managed to get some decent photos of him - the wily cormorant.

Mad-Scientist Look

Note how low in the water his body is...

Bathing Beauties

Caught up with these bathing beauties this weekend at Smith's Island.  There was a whole lot of preening going on!

Finally!

Finally - I got a hawk!

This sharp-eyed fellow
 was sitting way up in my neighbor's tree in the back yard, and I was lucky enough to get a couple of shots of it.

For me, hawks are very difficult to photograph.  If I get anywhere near them, whether in my car or on foot, they fly away before I can get the lens cap off.  When I saw this one out the back window, I got my camera ready and crept into the garage.  I opened the back door very quietly and stood inside the garage to get the first picture.

I ventured a few steps into the yard and his head snapped toward me instantly.  Even over the long distance between us, I felt a tingle and realized I'd been spotted by a predator.  Good thing I'm too big to be his lunch!

He quickly up and flew away, wanting nothing to do with me.  After some preliminary research, I believe this is a Red-tailed hawk.  This is a wonderful first for me, after over a year of hunting.

American Hogpeanut

This is just the plant you wanted to learn about today.  You will soon be seeing it again, growing all over the forest floor and twining itself around anything that can give it support.

Up until now, I have been mistaking this plant for a common violet!  It is actually an amazing entity.  It produces two different flowers, and two different seeds.

If you take a moment to look at the leaflets in this photo, you will probably be able to identify this plant when you see it again in the wild.

Each compound leaf has three leaflets with sharp tips and asymmetrical bases.  You can see a kind of bulge on the base of the leaflets in the photo above.  And the middle leaflet of the three is larger, with a longer stem.

This plant's name is a perfect example of how so much scientific information can be packed into a couple of words.  Quoting from gobotany.newenglandwild.org we learn the following:

"The genus name is from the Greek amphi (of both kinds) and carpos (fruit) and refers to the two kinds of fruit.  The seeds of the upper fruit are inedible, but those from the underground fruit are edible when boiled.  Birds feed on the seeds of both kinds of fruit.  Hogs eat the seeds of the fruit below ground, hence the plants (sic) common name."

Many thanks to my friend Bryan R. (from Wood Badge), who helped me successfully identify this plant when it was driving me crazy by being so familiar and yet so anonymous!