Bring Binoculars with Me

March 9, 2010.  Tuesday.

Situation:   No work today, take Mway out about 12:30.  Last night Moi tried to help me identify the bird I heard yesterday, using her bird call app on her iPhone.  After about a dozen recorded samples, she finally played something that sounded something like what I heard.  “I would say that’s it,” I told her, “what is that?”  “A sparrow,” she said.  “What kind of sparrow?” I ask.  “Just a sparrow.  A common sparrow.”  This morning, while I’m still in bed, listening to Mway barking outside while Moi has taken her out to throw stick before going to work, I again hear a “choo-ee choo-ee choo-ee,” and I think about rushing outside with a pair of binoculars, but, of course, I don’t.

State of the Path:  But I do bring a pair of binoculars with me on my walk today.  And instead of my orange wool cap, I wear my father’s air force safari helmet.  As soon as I step outside, I realize it’s too hot for my snow suit; in fact, I wouldn’t need any kind of jacket today.  Also, I realize that the safari helmet is not the best for looking for birds, as the brim of the helmet impedes looking upward a bit.  Finally, I realize rather quickly that noontime is not the best time for looking for birds, as most of the birds seem to be nesting at midday.  But as I walk thru the walled garden, then onto the side path by the old orchard, I do hear in the distance a caldron of chirping and chattering.  I don’t see anything in the trees in the orchard or along the back hedgerow, and it seems to me that the sounds are coming from the trees along the creek or in the woods up on the ridge.  I suspect that what I might be hearing are starlings, as a few days ago Moi and I saw a starling outside our kitchen window.  But as I approach the creek, I still don’t see any birds, and, indeed, as I get closer, it seems that the chirping and chattering dies down.  I hear a caw or two of a crow, take the time to whack down a couple of big briars that are pointing menacingly at the path, and by the time I start back up the field, it seems the woods and the fields are silent.

State of the Creek:  The water is definitely lower in the creek today, as most of the spring melt has subsided.  There is still water flowing into the creek from bug land, and from both of the feed channels from the skating pond.  I cross the first feed channel today, digging in foot holds along the muddy banks.  Along the creek, I see the golf ball, and then about 10 feet downstream, I spot an animal skull on the ground, about as white as the golf ball.  I consider crossing the creek at a low spot, but again postpone that for another day.

The Fetch:  Mway fetches as much today as she did yesterday – close to 10 fetches.  On one fetch, she even plows through some standing dead golden rod to make a bee line to the stick.  I am sweating in my snow suit, and the binoculars bang against my chest as I bend over to pick up the stick and lean back to toss it in the air.

Choo-ee: The Barrel's Been Moved

March 8, 2010.  Monday.

Situation:  Moi works all day today.  I also have work to do and leave the house about 11.  When I leave, I notice that Mway, up in her room, has pushed the door shut on herself, and I think “tough” and don’t bother opening it.  When I come back from work, the door is still shut, and I imagine Mway just lying in her room all day, waiting for someone to come and take her for a walk  (The Boy was asleep when I left, with plans to go down to Jazz’s and help her out since she’s broken her arm.)  I open Mway’s door as I’m walking past, and as I’m suiting up downstairs she clops down the stairs, and we go out about 4:15.

State of the Path:  As soon as I’m out the door, I look for the stick I’ve been using as a fetching stick on the bench, but don’t see it among the various sticks there.  I immediately think that yesterday Moi must have used it (or the Boy today), and now it must be lost.  But as soon as I go down the porch steps to get my walking stick, which I prop against the house near the faucet, I see the fetching stick propped up next to it.  Most of the snow is gone today; only a few patches remain: in the shadows of the house and our large spruce tree, in the old orchard, and along the ridge around bug land.  The path is muddy, pitted with paw prints, and soggy and puddled down by bug land and on the other side of the ridge in the break coming up from bug land.  I hear a chirping and a grating whistling of birds as I walk past the pig pen then turn left to walk by the old orchard.  Finally as I approach the back hedgerow, I see black birds perching high in the tree. I look for any red spots on the wings, but I can’t see anything, and as I approach the trees the birds are startled and fly away.  Still, I guess that these are red wing blackbirds.  I consider taking the side path along the skating pond, but the feed channel is filled with water and it looks too wide to hop across.  Coming through the red willows, I start to hear a bird singing “choo-ee choo-ee choo-ee” and then hear another bird, more in the distance, reply “cha-ah-cha-ah-cha.”  I look around, but I don’t see where the sounds are coming from, and of course I have no idea what sort of birds these are.

State of the Creek:  As I’m walking along the creek, noting the height and color of the water and the cow piss foam accumulating in front of the log and barrel jam, I’m suddenly startled to see that the barrel is gone.  I immediately wonder to myself what could have happened to it, then just as suddenly I see it sitting next to the path on top of some leaf and stick debris.  Apparently Moi or the Boy has seen fit to pull it out of the creek and set it there.

The Fetch:  There’s no more snow in the clearing, and I stand to the side of the soggy grass and toss the stick as far as I can, toward the electric pole, the cement rubble, back down the path.  I lose count how may fetches Mway makes today – considerably more than 3, probably less than 10.

The Lord's Day

March 7, 2010.  Sunday.

Situation.  Work all day, do not get home till after dark.  No walk for Mway from me today.

Believe Them to be Redwing Blackbirds

March 6, 2010.  Saturday.

Situation:  Moi and I both work tonight.  I take Mway out about 3:30.

State of the Path:  Much, if not most of the snow, is gone.  There are still patches of snow in our lower back yard, in the old orchard, and around the ridge around bug land.  The path is muddy, especially by the wigwams and around the seep in bug land.  The dead brown vegetation lying on the ground is interspersed with green clumps of grass, as well as moss, here and there.  I do not hear any birds at this hour when I first step outside, but as I get closer to the creek I hear more chirps and sucking sounds.

State of the Creek:  Finally, as I’m standing at the log and barrel jam on the creek, I see, up among the higher branches of the oaks ahead of me, dozens of black birds.  At first I don’t know what they are – but I believe I can make out now and then patches of red on the birds’ wings.  Finally I walk toward the oaks, scaring the birds into flight.  I can make out red patches on some of the birds wings – surely, I believe, these are redwing blackbirds.  The state of the creek is much the same as it has been the last few days, the water flowing steadily, fed by the slow melt of the snow.

The Fetch:   As I walk up toward the clearing, I feel almost too hot in my snow suit, wool cap, and mismatched garden gloves that I’ve been using as snow gloves all winter – but I will wear this outfit for as long as I can stand it, to help protect against the deer ticks that lurk in the field. The clearing is almost bare, only a patch of snow here and there.  I stand at one end and toss the stick as far as I can, toward the electric pole, toward the cement rubble, back down toward the strawberry field – in the fashion I was throwing the stick before there was snow on the ground.  I lose count how many times Mway fetches the stick – more than three, less than ten maybe.  I catch sight of Moi in the back yard, checking the sap from our maple beside our swimming pool.  On one fetch, Mway carries along back with her stick a dead brown golden rod stem, caught between her body and the stick.  After her last fetch, as usual she runs back to the house with the stick in her mouth, and I follow with only my walking stick, impressed with how long these two sticks – almost equal in length – have lasted now.

It Doesn't Matter It's the Boy's Birthday

March 5, 2010.  Friday.

Situation:  Work tonight.  Sent the Boy a birthday greeting by email.  (He’s been living half the time with us, half the time with his girlfriend, Jennifer.)  Take Mway out about 2.  All day long I trip over sticks that Moi has allowed Mway to bring into the kitchen.

State of the Path:  As soon as I step outside I hear a loud “chak” and then spot in the big spruce tree behind our house what I’m pretty sure is a mourning dove.  Soon a second dove flies over and perches in a nearby tree.  I wait for the birds to sing their sad coo, but when after a minute nothing happens, I start to walk over, startling the two birds and a number of others that I hadn’t seen.  Only when I’m by the outbuilding and a briar has caught in my orange wool cap do I hear the familiar coo.  There is still snow on the ground in the old orchard, but between the sumacs and the ridge around bug land much of the snow is gone.  The path is mostly muddy, forcing me to walk again in the weeds or on what little snow is left.  The sumac berries that I used to see in the snow I now see squashed in dirt, mud, and grass.  It looks rather Christmasy.

State of the Creek:  There are now only patches of snow along the creek, which is running pretty much the same as it has the last couple days.  Except for around the ridge that surrounds it, most of the snow is gone from bug land.

The Fetch:  Again stand at one end of the clearing, toss the stick the whole length.  Three fetches, which seems now to have become the standard.

Crows, a Shadow, Some Blue Jays, Then More Crows

March 4, 2010.  Thursday.

Situation:  Work tonight, take Mway out about 12:45.

State of the Path:   I hear crows as soon as I step outside.  In the walled garden, I see in the snow the shadow of a bird flying overhead, but when I look up I’m blinded by the sun.   Our land being on a slope with a northern exposure, there’s still much snow on the ground, but about half of it is gone; about half of the path is bare.  Down by the creek, I hear what I think are crows again, but when I look up I see bluejays flying into the woods on the other side of the creek.  I see another bluejay or two as I’m walking along the creek, and some gray birds that I can’t identify but perhaps are sparrows.  Coming up from bug land, I hear more crows and then see some flying around.  No cardinals or mourning doves today.

State of the Creek:  About the same as yesterday.

The Fetch:  Up in the clearing, I stand off in the snow and toss the stick the full length of the clearing.  Three fetches.  Back in the back yard, I find Mway standing in the yard, and I immediately think she’s dropped her stick somewhere.  No sooner do I ask “Where’s your stick?” than I spot it at the door on the back porch.  Mway runs up to the door, picks up the stick with her teeth then drops it, as if to say “Here’s my god damn stick, if you need to know.”

Mockingbirds?

March 3, 2010.  Wednesday.

Situation:  Work tonight.  Take Mway out about 1:00.

State of the Path:   Though not as loudly as yesterday, I hear birds chirping all along the walk, the distant moans of mourning doves.  Coming up to the clearing, I see a crow fly overhead, a sparrow or something in a shrub, then two fairly large birds flying toward the skating pond, with brown and white tail feathers – I see these birds all the time, but damn it if I know what they are, or can find a picture of them in our bird books; they seem too small to be hawks or falcons; could they be mockingbirds?   Where the path is half melted away, I stay on the snow side, because the ground is muddy.   In the bare patches between the snow, I see a lot of what I call garlic grass – this may be stuff that has been here all winter but is now reappearing as the snow melts.

State of the Creek:  The water’s not quite as high as it was yesterday late afternoon, but the stream is still flowing strongly.

The Fetch:  Mway greets me up at the clearing.  The area that was packed down is bare and soggy, so I step off into the snow to toss the stick.  One fetch – what seems like, yes, one token fetch.