Christmas For The Birds

Quite a few years ago I stopped having a decorated tree in the house for Christmas.  In place of that tradition I started a new one, a Christmas tree for the birds.  I decorate the tree with seed bells and suet cakes (for the birds) and small lights (for me).  The tree stands just outside my kitchen window.  

We've had some snow since the tree was first put up.

 The treats on this tree seem especially attractive to the smaller birds.  Like this little Downy Woodpecker.

And lots of Juncos.  My personal favorites.

Gloria

I have been spending a lot of time by the pond lately.  It's a lovely place to read.  And every day I feed the fish.  The vast majority are nondescript minnows.  And there are a lot of sunfish that we caught and moved to the pond because who doesn't love bluegills and sunnies?

And then there is Gloria.  Gloria is a Grass Carp.  (This is not a picture of Gloria, but this is what she looks like.)

Grass Carp are sweet vegetarians who eat the weeds (but not cattails) in ponds.  In NY you have to apply for a Grass Carp permit -- based on the size of our pond we were approved for 2 carp.  So two years ago we had 2 carp put in the pond -- at the time they were maybe 10 inches long, and I did not give them names.  They were delivered in May and we didn't see either again that summer, but we did see the weeds start to disappear.  Last year I started feeding the fish in late May and I did not see any Grass Carp.  Finally in June I saw a much larger fish than we had put in the year before.  She would come to eat the veggie pellets I feed the other fish.  For a couple of months we assumed that both carp were still in the pond, but by the end of the summer we were certain only one had survived.  The other carp probably succumbed to The Beast when he ruled the pond, or maybe a Kingfisher or Great Blue Heron -- he likely met his fate soon after coming to live in the pond when he was relatively small.

So this year when I started feeding the fish I worried when I didn't see any carp for a couple of weeks.  But then she suddenly appeared, gliding along just under the surface of the pond, with her mouth open to scoop up the floating pellets.  She is now about 3 feet long and so pretty when her green and gold scales catch the sun.  Grass Carp can grow to 5 feet. Yikes!  That will be like having a small adult swimming in the pond.  Because she has now survived 2 years and she has grown to a size that will be far too intimidating for turtles or birds, I have named her.  Gloria, for Gloria 'I Will Survive' Gaynor.  (This is a picture of Gloria which does not do her justice, but it is really hard to photograph a fish.)

The Mother of All Beasts

Back in March we had a week of unusually warm weather.  While crossing the lawn one day I found The Beast  heading towards our pond.

Though he was a relatively small snapping turtle, I didn't want him in the pond.  Last year Dan and I caught many sunfish at a friend's pond and we moved them to our pond.  I like sunfish and so do snapping turtles; I didn't want The Beast to eat all of my fish so I grabbed half of a nearby bait trap and put it over The Beast.

Mean as he was I didn't want to kill the little fellow so Dan took him away and found him a new home.  Then about a month ago I was out by the pond feeding the fish when out from under the dock came the mother of all beasts.  I had no camera and later when I went out to take a picture she was gone.  So I took off my flip-flops to give some perspective on her size.  The trap I used for the original beast was smaller than one flip-flop.

The new beast was longer than the width of the ladder on the dock - so about 2 flip-flops.

Two days ago I was out feeding the fish again when who should I spy but The Mother Beast.  I have been wondering why there aren't more sunfish - they should multiply like rabbits in a pond like ours.  But while we still have lots of miscellaneous little pond fish, we have seen very few sunnies.  Now I knew why and the dilemma was how to dispose of the sunfish-eating beast.  I Googled how to catch a snapping turtle.  As with all things Google I got hundreds of hits and then had to winnow the results - did I want to rescue the turtle (lots of methods but none guaranteeing that you could do this and still have 10 fingers when done), did I want to eat the turtle (a resounding 'No' to that option), did I just want the turtle gone ... yes.  So I saved some steak from dinner, Dan baited a large hook and attached the heavy-duty fishing line to the ladder - it didn't take too long and sure enough we caught a snapping turtle.

This was a very mad, very strong turtle - every time she tried to swim away she would knock into the ladder and the dock shook. Neither Dan nor I wanted to risk losing a finger so I agreed that the turtle needed to be put out of our misery as humanely as possible.  I retreated to the house and a bit later Dan assured me that she was now at the bottom of the pond and she would eat no more sunfish, or any of the pond creatures for that matter.  I have a vision of all the little pond denizens gathering around the now dead beast gleefully singing "Ding-dong the Witch is Dead" as the giant feet of The Beast curl into its shell.

The Bridge to Somewhere

Last September I wrote a post about Hurricane Irene (http://ddramblings.blogspot.com/2011/09/more-rain.html).  Irene caused incredible damage in my part of the Northeast.  Too many people lost homes and businesses.  So to say I lost a couple of bridges sounds horribly self-involved but I assure you I in no way consider my losses tragic.  But without the bridges I've had no access to half of the trails behind the house.  All of my ramblings since the hurricane have been limited to the field trails which provide a wonderful place to walk for me and the dogs, but we have really missed the back trails.  And now the bridges are back - YAY!

After the rain finally stopped last August 28th the stream was at least 10 feet higher than usual and the bridge was floating into the backyard.

The next day, after the water had receded some, Blackie was sad to find he could not cross the bridge any more.

But now, almost 9 months later, Blackie is happy to cross the bridge again.

There was a hill that led down to the bridge on the house side - a lot of dirt was bulldozed to make the bridge level with the yard.

The bridge was winched back into position on the other side.  It looks a bit precarious on this side but it is much sturdier than before.

Last year I spent a lot of time grooming the back trails.  After the hurricane and 9 months of neglect they are in rough shape but not as bad as I anticipated.  Blackie is just happy to be in the woods again.

There were a lot of trees down but most were off the trail.  This tree split in half - I had to use the chainsaw to remove some large limbs that had blocked the trail.

The best thing is that we can now get down into the ravine again.

This area is known as Dog Pond due to this small pond that varies in size based on how much rain we've had.  Right now it is very dry so the pond is small.  Every dog we have ever had runs down the hill and immediate jumps in Dog Pond.

Dog Pond Bridge was also washed away during the hurricane.  Dan and I maneuvered this bridge back into place using the 4-wheeler and its winch, and a lot of manual labor.  It has always been kind of rickety but it gets you across the stream.

Once on the other side we can now go up the hill and at the top we can connect with the field trails.

When it was Lucy's turn for a walk we went in the opposite direction, starting with the field trails.

Lucy heading down to Dog Pond from the field side.

Lucy heading back to the house on the back trails.

The Beast

Today we had another record breaking high temperature - well over 80 this afternoon.  This gives us 7 days of record highs this March in Albany.  There have never been so many record highs in any one month in Albany.  Everything is sprouting, blooming, budding ...  So while I was out with Blackie I thought I would check the pond to see what critters were enjoying the oddly warm weather.

Garth the Gargoyle

After finding the pond full of tadpoles and minnows I started back to the house and that's when I located The Beast.  He was moving as fast as possible towards the pond.

Luckily fast for a snapping turtle gave me time to find a bait cage to stop him from actually making it to the pond where he would have spent the summer dining on the fish and tadpoles.  This particular snapping turtle is quite small but I can tell you, when pissed off he really did look beastly.  I did not have the presence of mind to get a picture of him with his mouth open - trust me when I say that it was sufficiently terrifying to keep me from getting my fingers anywhere near him. 

   

So The Beast has been humanely moved far from the pond.  And I am still in possession of all fingers.

The Not-so-Lucky Rabbit's Foot

It was really cold for our walks this morning - 17 degrees at the house - colder in the field, I'm sure.  I was actually thrilled for the frigid temperature - all of the mud is completely frozen so I don't have to spend the whole walk trying not to fall on my butt in a mud puddle.  I added another layer for warmth and started the walk with Blackie who was also happy for a hard, fast surface to run on. He took off in a different direction and followed every smell to its end while I followed the trail to the top of the hill.  We both got to the top at the same time but I was looking straight back to the farthest point on that trail.  At the very back of the field, in the middle of the trail, were two coyotes.  One was standing and looking directly at me.  The other was such a light blonde color it looked more like a yellow lab - she was sitting behind the other and was also staring right at me.  After maybe 30 seconds Blackie looked up & started running at full speed down the trail.  The coyotes rather casually turned and ran into the woods.  Blackie followed but came back soon and we continued walking. Not far from where the coyotes had been I found a perfect rabbit's foot - newly separated from the rest of the poor bunny's leg.  Only if it were bright pink and attached to a key chain could it have looked more like a lucky rabbit's foot.  I went to the house, put Blackie in and got Lucy out for her walk.  Not long after getting into the field Lucy found the scene of the crime.  There was lots of bunny fur but no other bunny parts.  Except for a second  rabbit's foot - a perfect match for the first one I had found.  So I'm thinking that either those coyotes are very discerning eaters, or maybe it's bad luck to eat a lucky rabbit's foot.  

Close Encounter of the Unpleasant Kind (or No Guts No Glory, Part 2)

Yesterday while walking with Blackie I was blithely singing along with my Ipod, just enjoying the cold but beautiful morning.  As I passed Dog Pond Hill I came upon something that made me scream, and that brought Blackie, who had taken a detour down the hill, immediately to my side.  What we found was a large, bloody mound of deer guts.  The day before had been the last day of gun season.  Apparently some lucky hunter got his final deer for the year.  And that lucky hunter decided to gut his kill right in the middle of my trail.  He left not only the complete insides of the deer but also his rubber gloves and some bloody paper towels.  This is really a violation of what little hunting etiquette exists.  Assuming it was one of our neighbors this is especially irksome - had he dragged the deer maybe 50 feet he would have been on his own land.  Had he even dragged it 20 feet the disgusting pile would have been down the hill and out of sight, out of mind.  Once Blackie realized my scream was not a call for help, he decided to investigate the remains. Fortunately Blackie is the good dog and when told, he left the pile behind and continued our walk.  Lucy, sweet but definitely not the good dog of the two, was much harder to convince when it was her turn to walk.  If there was any alternative I would have taken a different route with Lucy but this year the field trails are the only option.  So getting Lucy to move on made for a less than enjoyable 2nd walk of the day.  The only blessing was the freezing weather - less to smell and therefore less appealing.  Today the pile was completely frozen so both Blackie and Lucy left the gut pile with little reprimand.  I can only hope that the coyotes take care of this problem before there's a thaw.    

The Sun, the Moon and ... the Birds

This morning the rising sun and the setting moon were just about level in the sky.  And, because the moon is full it was especially pretty to see.

Walking West towards the back of the field was the moon.

A quick turn towards the East and there was the sun.

We no longer have a Christmas tree in the house.  Gus and family are in Oregon so there is little reason to cut down a tree just for the two of us.  So instead we have a tree for the birds.  It's kind of a Charlie Brown tree decorated with seed bells and suet.  The tree is right outside my kitchen window and is usually full of Chickadees, woodpeckers, and my favorite little Juncos.  Seeing the birds enjoy their tree has become a new happy tradition for the holidays.

Gun Season

Incongruous with this beautiful start to the morning, it is opening day of gun season here in my part of New York.

I understand (or try to understand) the lure of hunting.  Dan is off to hunting camp for the weekend. For him, someone who was brought up on a working farm & has hunted all of his life, this is the best time of the year. This is Christmas for him.  He is a responsible hunter and never shoots just for a trophy.  And yet I walk this beautiful land we live on every day; the dogs and I share the field with the deer and we have a comfortable respect for each other's right to be there.

Normally I would avoid walking at first light on this weekend.  We are surrounded by farms, and neighbors who hunt - it is probably not the safest time for a morning ramble.  But this year I have no access to the back trails since Hurricane Irene destroyed all of our bridges.  And I'm not willing to give up our walks so we prepared as best we could and went up to the field at our usual time.  I put Blackie's bright orange collar on him.  Lucy was in neon pink.  I wore a red coat and off we went.

When out with Blackie, and then with Lucy, there were several gunshots.  I'm glad we walked but I missed the peaceful quiet we usually have.  Fortunately no change to the beauty.

City Mouse Country Mouse (or No Guts No Glory)

I lived in the city until I was 7 and then I lived in the suburbs.  And I was never a wuss - I spent lots of time in the woods and had no real fear of anything.  I collected newts and frogs and turtles and raised several hamsters.  But when I first moved to the country I learned that country rats are different than city rats.  I think I was told that so I would not go screaming back to the suburbs the first time I went to the basement with a load of laundry and almost stepped on a rat with my bare feet. Take it from me that they look a lot alike so the distinction is very small.  I have since learned that any number of our friendly field friends come in for a winter home.  Some I could live with I suppose but me and the rats are never coming to an understanding. So we put out poison where the dogs can't go.  It seems to keep the rats away, and the mice too which I can live with.

Today when walking home with Blackie we found a pile of guts.  Nothing but guts and a small tuft of bunny fur.  No bunny tail, no bunny ears but I take the fur as evidence that these are bunny guts.  I doubt the murderer is a feral cat - they usually leave most of the bunny and take the guts.  I'm guessing coyote tho they are rarely so discerning.  Whatever the cause I knew the guts had to go or Lucy would find them and then I'd see those guts again - likely on the living room rug.  So when I traded Blackie for Lucy I got 2 plastic bags.  I located the guts again and deftly picked them up using 1 bag as a glove and putting the pile into the other bag which I tied and brought home for the garbage.  This suburban mouse has come a long way.  Tho I still do not buy the city rat, country rat story.