Beyond My Garden

Deception

2012-02-09T16:35:00.002-05:00

Waverly Road, along the Ohio River, in West Virginia, is a common route for me to travel. Many of my posts for Beyond My Garden are inspired from experiences along this road. The Flood Begins was one such post. Today's is another. In that link above, you are looking at a flooded field. A creek runs along the near edge of the field until it crosses it, emptying into the Ohio. If the river is high the creek backs up into the field as you see it in that post. Normally, though it is an inviting place for birds like herons, kingfishers and geese.

My inspiration for today's post came from a day when the field was home to a small flock of Canada Geese.

The geese weren't very close to me but I decided to take a few photo shots anyway, knowing that I could zoom in later.

There was a big stump in the field, I supposed deposited by the receding high water. There was something on top of the stump but I couldn't tell what it was. I took the photo.

Later that evening I downloaded and zoomed in on the geese. I wanted to see what was moving on that stump!

Wait . . . is it waving at me? Uh-oh. I think I've been duped.

There was a man, dressed in camo waving at me as he sat in a blind among the Canada Geese. How odd. Oops. Alright, there is a chance that I am stupid. Those aren't geese. They are decoys.

Ha! Well they sure fooled me. He probably wondered why some lady was taking his picture. I wish I knew who he was so I could give him the opportunity to laugh. I have certainly laughed at myself.

And to Dust You Shall Return (Genesis 3:19)

2012-02-08T11:06:00.000-05:00

Here is an extra post today. I just couldn't resist this photo taken by my friend who is gecko sitting. Look at the pink dust on her palm.

Photo by Cheryl Miller, 2012

Red Heads

2012-02-08T06:00:00.000-05:00

A couple Red heads made a winter stop in our neighbor's pond.

Redhead Aythya americana

The warm weather must be sending them north already.

Squirrel Morning

2012-02-07T06:00:00.002-05:00

My Christmas Tree feeder is feeding more than just birds.

For the article on how a Christmas Tree became a bird feeder click

HERE

This chubby Gray squirrel greeted me this morning as it foraged for sunflower seeds scattered throughout the trees branches.

Winter Moss

2012-02-06T06:00:00.003-05:00

It is a grand moment for moss.

Rainy days feed its shallow roots.

The canopy overhead is clear, allowing necessary sunlight to provide energy.

A miniature jungle grows at our feet

All we have to do is notice . . .

And enjoy!

ICE

2012-02-03T06:00:00.004-05:00

Two days ago, I showed you what is happening in my garden - buds are popping! If you missed it, click HERE. Today I will take you back in time.

Remember that Spirea that was ready to bloom? Well, here is what it looked like last week.

The Rhododendren is well ensconced.

An iced down Christmas tree didn't seem to bother this Red-bellied woodpecker. (Melanerpes carolinus)

It may have been harder had he tried to perch on the fence wire.

Our local family of White-tailed deer crunch away at their icy lunch.

Groundhog Day-Revisited

2012-02-02T06:00:00.002-05:00

Today is Groundhog day in the United States.

If the groundhog sees its shadow today then we will have six more weeks of Winter. If there is no shadow, then Spring will come early.

So, an overcast day means an early spring; a sunny day means a long (normal) winter.

For me, though Groundhog Day is special;

Groundhog Day is romantic. I wrote about it last year. GROUNDHOG DAY.

If you are wondering about future weather, go find a groundhog burrow and wait . . .

. . . but if it is your life that makes you wonder, look closely at the people around you, both in your home and in your heart.

Too Soon for Blooms

2012-02-01T10:18:00.000-05:00

Warm January days are powerful. Just ask this Saucer magnolia (Magnolia soulangeana). Its protective, insulated bud scales have broken open revealing the bud beneath.

This scale protects the bud from freezing. You understand how it is dangerous for the covering to open up before the danger is gone for more heavy freezing.

But wait. It gets worse.

At the risk of looking a gift-horse in the mouth, It just isn't right to see this pretty pink bloom opening up on January 31 in the Ohio Valley, zone 6a. I usually look for these in March.

Nearby, a Baby's breath spirea (Spirea thunbergii) shows its leaves.

While its buds swell, ready to put forth white blooms.

Unexpected Harvest

2012-01-30T06:00:00.002-05:00

Autumn came.

A garden plowed under.

Plants chopped, buried;

seeds, too.

Rains kept coming.

Sun glowed.

Winds blew from the South.

Garden's gift has been offered -

lettuce chilled to crisp perfection.

Graveyard Visit

2012-01-19T06:00:00.001-05:00

Recently I visited the graveyard in Spencer, WV, in which are buried many of my fathers relatives.

But what is in that tree?

Oh. Those are vultures. I've seen the movies, but, seriously, what are vultures doing here?

We drove around the cemetery, past those who were once Dodsons but now lie "sleeping" or perhaps they have moved on. Do they have any consciousness other than that which they passed to me? Knowing what I do about them and their descendants -called names like "cousin," "nephew," "brother," or "sister" - I think they wouldn't mind that there are vultures overhead. Nor would they be surprised that I want a closer look.

Wait a moment, these aren't the expected Turkey Vultures, (Carthartes aura). No, these are Black Vultures (Coragyps atratus), the most abundant vulture on the western hemisphere, according to Cornel's All About Birds website. Also, according to Cornell, Spencer is out of their range, though not too far out.

It was their gray faces that gave it away. Turkey vulture faces are show red, making them actually look more like turkeys.

Other differences exist, too.

Black vultures have white wing tips, easily seen when they fly.

We left the Spencer cemetery without visiting the graves, just a quick wave as we drove by and a thank-you to the vultures for letting us visit.

2012-01-18T06:00:00.002-05:00

Last Week in My daughter's Birthday Blog I used photos of the Waverly Red-tailed hawk as illustrations for my words.

Red-tailed hawk lightened for better viewing.

Here are some more views of our hawk taken Tuesday morning.

It was a very overcast day. To let you see the photos more clearly I lightened the exposure on most of them. I didn't change anything else other than to crop them.

Jeff was driving. He let me out of the car to capture some images.

Then made some noise so that the hawk would fly. It is pretty used to people so it wasn't inclined to move off its wire.

But eventually it did.

It had been eyeing some crows in a muddy field

and flew straight toward them.

I almost lost the hawk against the hillside growth.

There it is, I found it again. (male or female?)

The Red-tailed found the crows, scattering them into flight.

It then headed for a comfortable looking Sycamore tree.

*If you red about the Big brown bats yesterday then go back to see some links I added about water available up here on the hill. I think it is one thing that keeps the local wildlife passing through our yard.

2012-01-17T14:19:00.001-05:00

Winter gets cold, I go inside. I stand by the fire.

When I get hungry I get a snack out of the fridge.

Bats don't have so nice.

They need to find a cozy corner wherever they can.

Below is a Big brown bat (Eptesicus fuscus)

It has been hanging out, scrunched up into the eave of our open porch.

From what I've read, many of the young ones don't make it through their first winter. Big brown bats often eat beetles. Hence the reason for strong jaws and teeth and robust jaws. The trouble is that there aren't many beetles flying around here in the winter. The young bats have trouble getting enough fat stored for those cold winter nights. Warm winter days bring the bats out of hibernation long enough for a snack or two.

I'm rooting for these two, the one above and the one below.

Thanks Craig Stihler of the West Virginia DNR for helping me identify them.

As an editing amendment, I am including a few links to see the water available here on our hill. These springs seldom freeze, keeping water available to the bats.
Building the Pool - Peace
Journey Begins at Pool of Tranquility
Deer Lick Spring & Refreshing Dip into the Pool (This one makes me feel like summer just re-reading it.)

O Christmas Tree

2012-01-14T10:07:00.000-05:00

For Many of us, this is how we remember our Christmas tree. Typically we think of the ornaments, lights and whatever presents it might be gathered around the tree stand. Early in their life as part of our families, Christmas trees tend to make men say things that are not very . . . well, "Christmasy." They often say un-Christmasy things while putting the tree into a stand or trying to get the lights set perfectly around (and around) so that the other decorations may be attached.
Once the tree is up and in its second phase of family life, it becomes appreciated and loved. But then, Christmas is over. What about that tree? This year my tree has been called to a second tour of duty. It will stay a bit longer in our family creating more happy memories and taking our minds away from that first day when it caused so much trouble.
While I often leave the tree in its stand just by the front door a few days, it is usually due to procrastination and a sense of putting off the end of Christmas. It seems so sad to dump that perfectly nice green tree.
There have been many years that I have taken it down but used it to protect my Azaleas or Rhododendrons, hoping that the deer will eat on the needles of our Christmas tree, sparing my garden plants. Now that we have a fence (Building a fence or more fence building) we no longer have a problem with deer.
This year, though, it was left out front with a purpose.

I have scattered sunflower seeds into the tree. Underneath, juncos, cardinals and song sparrows reap the benefits of seeds that fell through onto the concrete below.

Chickadees become tree-toppers

and a Carolina wren nuzzles among its boughs,

taking advantage of protection from the wind

as it seeks out seeds balanced against the needles.

Downy woodpeckers find nourishment froms suet hanging heavily from a branch.

Now, remember that cardinal you saw in Yesterday's blog? Well, you have probably guessed it. It was perched in the Howard family Christmas tree.

More Cardinals

2012-01-13T06:00:00.001-05:00

They are so hard to resist.

So I didn't.

Encounter

2012-01-12T09:21:00.001-05:00

We have a compost pile. Someday I will tell you more about it but for now know that each night, after supper either Jeff or I take our garbage - leftovers from supper - out to the compost. It's dark out there and we never know what we might see.
A couple nights ago I was rewarded with this:

I worked with camera settings, wanting to capture the feeling I had as part of the scene. I wanted to capture the surprise and the awe that pulled my gut as I stumbled through the dark and around the corner of our cabin.
Oh. Wow. Yes! I see you!
Now, I miss the knowledge and expertise not have not yet learned. For instance, how do I get rid of that little moon? Do you see it on the wall? It wasn't part of the moment.

How did I do that?

I changed exposure.
Whoops, too dark. Where did the cabin go?

After deleting fifteen This one, below, is the one that chose me.

Seeing Red

2012-01-09T06:00:00.001-05:00

My garden is resting now so when we go "beyond my garden" we are usually looking at birds.

The birds appear when green leaves disappear.

The multi-colored flower beds have been replaced by feeders which have blossomed into multi-colored feathered visitors.

Among the most colorful are the Cardinals, state bird of West Virginia and always welcome both in and beyond my garden.

2012-01-07T06:00:00.001-05:00

It is not easy to soar.
Today is my daughter's birthday and I want her to know that I understand the difficulty she faces. Flying takes practice.

Like all parents I have watched my child with both joy and frustration.
Sometimes she is easy to see. Nothing is hidden. I see all her colors and know exactly who she is.

But other times she becomes obscured, lost in her surroundings. Perhaps, at times, even she may have trouble differentiating between herself and the brush - those friends, relatives and situations that strive to define her.
She has often used those same surroundings for cover, choosing to go where she can't be seen even when I want her to aim for the clear skies where flying is easier; where she won't be held back by the need for cover.

There have been, and always be, risks involved in flying. Those times when I watch in fear. "Stay away from that destructive force."

Those are times, though, when I must be still . . .

. . . to merely watch . . .

. . . hiding my reflexive cringe, working very hard at being just an observer, quiet when I want to shout, "No, not there! That's not safe! You could be hurt." I hold my breath and fight motherly instinct to rescue.

That is when I am likely to watch her hover near danger then turn, using the intelligence and gifts which she has been given, to fly in a new direction,

As if she had been teasing me all along; to see if I would stay.

But she must know that I will always be there.

Today is her birthday. I have seen her since before she was born; watched her break out of the shell that first held and protected her. I was with her as she tried to fly long before she was ready. I screamed and squawked with a shrill deafening noise that left me hoarse. Like all offspring, she covered her ears and flew. "Wait! Wait! Wait!" I screamed.

There was no waiting.

She flew into the sun yet she didn't melt.

She has grown strong, landed well.

Today Mary turns twenty-eight. Soon I will be . . . well, not twenty-eight. Once again she is flying off to a new adventure. I will continue to train my eyes toward her, watching her journey. She is still my daughter and always will be but she is much more than that. Her own wings are strong.

Never quite out of sight she flies. No, wait. That's wrong. She doesn't fly. . .

She Soars.

Happy Birthday Mary Nelle.

Kildeer Blessing

2012-01-06T11:07:00.000-05:00

Kildeer (Charadrius vociferus) are a distinctly colored winter blessing

Some breeding maps show my neighborhood as "summer only" territory though to be fair, we live just up the hill from the Ohio River which, for West Virginia is the dividing line.

It has been warmer around here for the past couple years. That may be the reason that last winter is the first winter I remember seeing the brown and white Kildeer in our lane in January.

The sharply featured shorebird enjoys the gravel lane which is our driveway. I like the way the Cornel Lab of Ornithology web site starts its description, "A shorebird you can see without going to the beach." Cornel's is one identification map that lets the birds be in the Ohio Valley during winter.

I try not to worry about they eat during the very cold spells we do have as I enjoy watching the bird run across an open space with its characteristic short burst of speed. It is hard for me not to picture it as a neatly dressed, high-heeled woman hurrying through a crosswalk. She stops, looks behind her then quickly moves on.

With the Kildeer I will look forward to the warm winds of spring. I have just learned, today, that they are good swimmers. This year I will pay more attention to the nearby pond to see if I ever spot a kildeer on it.

For now I will enjoy this winter bird blessing.

Moon Shot

2011-12-16T21:58:00.000-05:00

My son and husband had been out stacking newly sawn lumber as the sun sank beneath our horizon. Jesse stuck his head in the door, "Quick! Come see the moon! bring your camera." So I did.

No, there really weren't three moons that night. At least on Earth there weren't.

Even with the tripod I didn't take much of a moon shot.

But I kept trying.

The moon rose into the darkening sky.

I have a slight tremor which was transferred to my camera. While I brought the number of moons down to just one, It still wasn't clear. I tried again. This time when I depressed the button to take the photo I didn't let go.

Much better. Could I bring it closer, though?

There is still room to do better but I think I'm improving.

Birthday Memories Again

2011-12-10T10:29:00.001-05:00

Today is my son, Jesse's thirty-first birthday. This is a re-written and updated of a post I wrote for his birthday. The post started forming as I reflected on an extremely windy day. I hope you enjoy reading or rereading it as I do.

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The wind blew and the house stood. Usually a good thing. It is nice that my house is still standing, but today I am talking about the treehouse. Like most good tree-houses, this one has stories to tell. Built by my son and husband, the treehouse is a reminder of my son's own history.

It has been thirty years since his birth and a little over 15 years since the birth of the treehouse but these two came of age together. Accessible at first only by a knotted rope then later by a rope webbing, the treetop club house saw not just Jesse but four boys grow to become men. Many weekend social functions revolved around the treehouse. Close by was the perfect spot for campfires.

My daughter, too, was a regular member of the treehouse community. Her girl friends were not very interested, but the boys welcomed her around their fire as they told their stories, accompanied by bawdy jokes and scatalogical humor, none of it allowed around me, the mother. I have a feeling that she was not the only girl to visit the treehouse.

As you can imagine, not all of the treehouse times were good. I have a feeling that those boys will not soon forget the morning after a particularly eventful night that they heard the voice of an angry demon screaming from below.

But mostly good times surrounded those weekends at the treehouse. Whenever those young men get together, you may be assured of hearing at least one treehouse story. One of my favorites is about our hound dog Peach. Peach often stayed with the boys on tree house nights.

The house had a pully system with a box attached so that they could pull up supplies from the ground. With some effort, Peach could be brought up in this box. Usually, though, she was content to stay below. Being a hound dog, Peach liked to track animals. If we didn't catch her quickly enough, she was given to chasing deer. We frowned on this and tried to stop it whenever possible. Late this particular night, the boys were sitting around the fire. Peach had gone off hunting. All of a sudden the woods erupted in motion as Peach flew out of the woods and jumped over the fire, running hard. Before the onlookers had a chance to recover, a doe burst from the woods in pursuit, ignoring the boys, intent on teaching a lesson to one scared hounddog.

Not long after that Jeff saw the same thing happen in the hay field. I think Peach may have accidently come upon what was probably the same doe who had gained valuable confidence at their last encounter. This time Deer chased Dog across the hay field. Peach finally learned her lesson and from now then was content to watch deer from afar.

That was many years ago . . . or was it only yesterday. Birthdays are great times of reflections, both our own and those of our children, nieces and nephews. This is my son's birthday and it brings him to the front of my mind, particularly as I remember him discovering his own life in these woods. From all day adventures with his sister, to relaxed sunny afternoons sitting with his feet in the cool mud from the creek in the gully, to tire swings, digging to China, falling off of rocks and ropes, to making signs in an effort to keep loggers from cutting down the grape vine tree, he is part of these woods and they are part of him.

The treehouse continued to play a large part in the life of my son and his friends. It had 2 sets of bunk beds and room on the floor for one more. In the fall and spring they had a kerosine heater to make it through the cold nights. Just like Jackie Paper, though, those four boys grew up.

They are now much too big to stay in that small room in the tree top even if it would support their weight. Two are living nearby working in area plants and have their own families, One is a coach at a small college a couple hours away and is getting married next weekend. Then there is Jesse, is now married to beautiful Kerry. They live several thousand miles away surrounded by the beauty that is Lake Tahoe, Nevada. They all return between Christmas and New Years, driving under the treehouse that nurtured their dreams just a few years ago.

The treehouse no longer holds boys, girls or dogs. A swarm of hornets spent a while on the back window but there are "no trespassing" signs posted on the decaying tree. Every storm threatens to bring the house crashing to the ground. I see no earthly reason for the tree to stand. A grown man could enter the cavity in the bottom. I'm sure I could push a sword through the pithy trunk.

The only limbs remaining are the ones holding the treehouse suspended. A small tall thin board holds up one corner in the hope that it will give some support until the tree caves in on itself signifying the final call for childhood until that time when each of those boys builds new memories with his own child or some other child that he loves; when they build their own treehouse or club house or fort, that special place for childhood adventures and dreams.

--------------

As an update on this entry, originally written in 2009 then updated today, the treehouse miraculously still stands. The tree seems to be made up of only pith. A long board gives the outreaching limb a little support. Jesse is home for a month. Today, his birthday he is sawing lumber for his own home in these woods

Sunday

2011-12-09T06:00:00.003-05:00

Hunting is not allowed on Sunday in Wood County, West Virginia so I took advantage of a few free hours and headed for the woods. I walked around, didn't see much, just some interesting tracks in the mud. I hardly even heard a bird chirp. Just as I was approaching the edge of the woods, though, something changed.

I thought I heard a high pitched bird song so I stopped to focus my ears. My camera slid up close to my eye just in case I found whomever was making that noise. It was then that an entirely differently pitched call caught my ear. A Pileated woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus) was flying straight toward me. It stopped short of hitting me, lighting on a nearby tree. I really think it didn't noticed me.

This woodpecker was seriously concentrating on finding a meal.

Next it startled me by flying right past me to another tree, accompanied by its loud, "Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh!"

No it really hadn't seen me yet. So cool.

It cocked its head to listen better.

Uh-oh. I believe I have been spotted.

A few more bugs were gathered then the suspicious Dryocopus flew off deeper into the woods where a meal could be eaten in peace.

Read about our Wet Trip to Visit the Amish Community

2011-12-09T01:50:00.001-05:00

To see corn shocks and Amish buggies amid showers and downpours, visit Rainy Days Never Get Me Down on my Waverly to Tahoe blog.

link

2011-12-06T11:20:00.001-05:00

Click HERE to link to my travel blog. Read about the Log House House Restaurant in Wytheville, Virginia.

Heron Comes Home to Roost

2011-12-05T21:18:00.003-05:00

Evening falls like an autumn leaf on Cove Lake.

Shimmering last light

guides a Great blue heron

home to roost.

Its lonely flight mirrored

against darkening water,

the heron slowly soars

through fading evening light.

I see grace, beauty and strength

in every stroke of

those blue-gray wings.

No warrior's drone

could be display more stealth.

As it pinpoints its target,

banks left,

then readies itself for a landing.

Static energy pulls it forward.

With shoulders bent then straight,

motion brings movement

across the still lake,

until only a few strokes remain.

Until rest and darkness

envelope the heron

who, like me seeks the quiet of sanctuary.

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Please don't forget to check in at my other blog, Waverly to Tahoe and Beyond
AND, for some Christmas shopping deals click on my self-promoting, blatantly commercial store
HERE

Sailor's Delight

2011-12-03T21:31:00.000-05:00