Hope is the thing with feathers.

As it's been warm enough lately to sleep with both the windows and the back porch door open, I've been getting woken up early (like 4:00 am ish) by the birds. Often it's cardinals working at establishing territory. Sometimes it's house finch chatter. Every now and again, it'll be a little white-throated sparrow singing a matin.*

Thank goodness for Spring! Thank heavens for those bird-songs!

When there's enough light (and it's not too damp, of course), I've been taking to sitting out on the balcony with a cup of coffee, the cats and a knitting project. The knitting's a great soul-soother; don't know why, but it seems that when my hands are moving, my mind gets calmer and I can think more clearly.

Lately, my fingers have been itching to swatch bits of lace. Sometimes they stay swatches, other times they grow into projects. Here's a little pattern for something I whipped up recently based on the Gull Lace Stitch made popular by the legendary Elizabeth Zimmermann.

Hopeful Neckwarmer (Pattern Available Here.)





***

* Sparrow is moineau in French, so we like to say that it's un petit moineau-moine qui chante ses matins. Have also decided that he's a Franciscan, since he dresses in brown and that's the big animal-friendly order.

Surprise!

Had a rather unexpected visitor at the Awesome Yew Diner this afternoon:



Apologies for the poor image quality. The kitchen window works well for Kitty TV, but it's an awful place for photography. Shot this through a dirty window and screen. This time of day, whatever I want to photograph is generally pretty badly backlit. Buddy didn't want to wait around for me to open the screen and position my camera better, either.

Springtime, there's normally a peregrine nest in the Norway Maple a couple yards over. We've picked up the remains of pigeons all over the place here and have even seen blue jays mob these guys out of our yard. This is the closest, though, that I've been to one in a while. He looked like an immature male.

***

Update: Scared him/her away when I opened the screen, but noted that s/he was still keeping watch from a safe distance.



Keeping an eye out from the Norway Maple in our backyard.

S/he swooped down about a half an hour later, clearing the sparrows out of the yew and allowing us a better look. The topside was so gray as to be almost blue, the beak was hooked and we noted bold stripes on the tail. The lack of "mutton chops" on the face and the smaller size than what one normally sees in Peregrines around here led us to change our minds on what exactly the bird was. Perhaps our visitor was a wayward Sharp-shinned hawk.

Hopefully they'll come back again today so that we can get another look. (I'm thinking that they might be around, actually, as the seed and suet I put out yesterday haven't been touched. Normally the sparrows, finches and chickadees would have gone through at least half of it by now.)

Days like what we are experiencing right now are gifts. I'm off to take advantage while I can. Enjoy your Saturday!



Fresh Pond, Cambridge looking surprisingly like a Hudson River School painting.

The weather's been glorious lately, so I've been taking in as much sun as possible. Really does wonders for the mood, the muscles, the joints. Am looking forward to a weekend of being outside, if possible.

Anyway, can try to catch up in one area of the life.

Bird Log:

Thursday, 21 October - Fresh Pond, Cambridge.

3-4 coots
+20 ring-necked ducks



A Flotilla. I'd say that this was probably 1/2 mallards, 1/2 ringnecks with a few coots thrown in for good measure.

3 nuthatches (heard)
1 downy woodpecker (heard)

Roughly two dozen cormorants perched in trees near the shore.



Just one guy. Branches made it hard to take a picture to the gaggle of these birds in the trees, too. Some had orange beaks, others had black ones. They were also vocalizing quite a bit, too. Pavel read later that they talked a lot when they were roosting. Funny, never saw these birds in trees before. Only on lower perches like rocks, buoys and rafts.

Saturday, 23 October - Plum Island, MA

Large quantities of three types of birds:

-Gulls (black-backed, herring, ring-billed, common terns)
-Sea-Ducks (mainly common eiders, but I think I saw a juvenile scoter.)
-Waders (Plovers: 1 black-bellied in Winter colors, several semipalmated. Two types of sandpipers.)



Sandpipers! Lots of em!

Monday, 25 October - Lexington, MA

Another trip out to Great Meadows. This was kind of a spur of the moment thing at the end of the day. We were grocery shopping in Arlington, so decided to get a quick walk in before sunset. When we got there, started chatting with an older gentleman who visited daily. Talked about birds and favorite places to look at birds of course; learned a fair bit as well (namely what the little black and yellow birds were that we saw darting around in proliferation. I thought they were winter-colored goldfinches or yellow warblers. He said that those had gone away since about September and that those we were seeing were actually yellow rumped warblers).

Anyway:

+-10 yellow rumps
1 great blue heron
1 hawk - smaller than a redtail, but not a harrier.
3-4 dozen swamp sparrows
Lots of mallards, lots of canadas.



Quite a few canada rumps, too.

3 red-winged blackbirds (males)
2-3 nuthatches (heard)
2+ downy woodpeckers (heard)

The fellow we were talking to mentioned that he saw a couple bluebirds that day. Sadly, we missed them.

Tuesday, 26 October - Somerville/Medford, MA

Wandered around the Mystic. Did not see much aside from a couple chickadees, several song sparrows and a whole lot of starlings. Was disappointed to see that my crabapple trees didn't bear fruit this year.

Wednesday, 27 October - Medford, MA

Visited another part of the Mystic. Paul was hoping to see the mergansers, but I think it was a bit too hot out for their liking.

Thursday, 28 October - Revere, MA

Large quantities of three types of gulls (black-backed, herring, ring-billed)
Two large trans-Atlantic migratory types (Think both were Airbus types? That's the Frenchie's department, not mine. One was an Alitalia bird, the other was British Airways.)

Great Meadows.

This is becoming the default walk when we're slightly west of here and exercise time is limited. Like with the Mystic Preserve and the reservoir over near Alewife, it's always worth it to visit often, all year round.

Now's the time for greater contrasts and longer shadows due to the obliqueness of the sun's rays.



Local vegetation, already going out in a blaze of glory, seems further warmed by that gold light that one only sees this time of year.*



Saw a few birds: some coots, mallards and Canadas on the water. A crow, some swallows and (it was hard to tell) either yellow warblers or goldfinches with winter coloring in flight. We heard a downy woodpecker laughing at a joke that was clearly offending a mallard somewhere. Also, an odd call from what I thought to be a nuthatch**. Oh, saw a heron in the distance as well as some marsh wrens scritching around in the reeds.



Funny, but whenever I see a pair of geese in flight, I can't help but think of this poem.

***

* Here, it's gold in the Fall. Winter and Spring are pastels. Summer's primaries.

** Pavel said that it was too high pitched. Pitch aside, I think that it was the right cadence for a nuthatch.

Well, I'll be darned.

Woke up this morning to a smoky, sweet scent that reminded me of burning incense. Now, I have been reading a lot about the Byzantine Empire but am not generally subject to olfactory hallucinations (crazier than a bedbug though I might be), so was a bit curious. Wandered around the house, then went outdoors to sniff around. Yes, the smell was everywhere.

A short time later, Pavel came downstairs. First thing he mentioned was the pretty but strange smell in the air. Wondered aloud on what was causing it. Nobody does leaf fires in the neighborhood - too dangerous with all the wood houses stacked on each other. Certainly wasn't a house (or more likely a series of houses - when one goes up here, the neighbors get hurt as well), as we didn't hear any fire engines overnight.

Found out later that we were smelling (and still are smelling, though a bit less now) is ash from forest fires in Quebec brought down on the wind. Apparently, too, here in Southeast Middlesex, there's an air quality alert in effect until tonight.

***

Update - early afternoon (about 13:15 ish) - smell's gotten stronger and one can really see the haze. Any outdoor work that needs to get done will be done out back under the trees, I think.

(18:30) - air quality has improved slightly, but is still pretty hazy out. Took a walk around the neighborhood for a couple hours and didn't have any trouble breathing. Eyes are kind of bothering me, though.

Sunset on Spring Hill



The view from the front porch isn't the prettiest but sometimes it can be surprising.

Tentative Takeoff.



The first sparrow fledgling of the season paid a visit to the yew yesterday. This morning, we saw at least three perched on branches taking in data and begging. Early evening, one little dope flew smack into the kitchen window, bounced off and managed to gain a foothold on one of the dead branches. Shook the kinks out of its head, then immediately started flapping its wings and begging from a house finch.

The Frenchie's got a ticket for Tuesday, but is looking desperately for alternative airports. Taking a train to Madrid is actually starting to sound good, actually.

(sigh)

Well, no flights out of northern Europe until probably tomorrow now. The Frenchie, who was supposed arrive here this afternoon, managed to get a flight for next Tuesday. Given how the cloud's moving and how, organizationally speaking, stuff is in chaos, I have serious doubts on his getting here next week (or at all).

Given that things could be much, much worse*, I really shouldn't be so sad or disappointed. Still, am.

Hopefully he'll get a nice sunset or two out of this all.

***

* We were actually talking about the last time volcano ash affected an airplane, maybe 20 some odd years ago. The Frenchie said that, at least he's home and not 12 km in the air with all engines failing.

Someone isn't a very happy camper right now.

Roissy's officially closed until 14:00 tomorrow. The Frenchie's flight was due to take off at 13:50. (We're prepared for the worst, but 're also hoping for the best.)

Nine Hikes to Avoid.

Today was a bit grayer than the past few days, which really set off the colors of burgeoning life. This was just around the house today:



Norway Maples are sort of viewed around here as pale cousins to the red or sugar varieties. Granted, both the blooms and the foliage of the latter two are spectacular. Still, this isn't too shabby. (My favorite green, in fact.)



Last year's primroses! Am so happy to see them! I'm terribly jealous of the Frenchie, as these have naturalized in his garden. Normally, I treat them as annuals, as the Winters usually freeze them out here. Thanks to the wonderfully mild one we had this year, though, at least half of last year's transplants have come back.



The neighbors' fence been needing repair or replacement for some time, just as their cherry tree's been needing a pruning. Still, there are sometimes advantages to stuff going rank. Am trying to decide whether to leave these untouched or to bring a few branches in to force.

Love this perspective from the back steps.

In Memoriam.



Here's that shawl that I was talking about earlier. Was so pleased at how it turned out that trudged out in the rain on Saturday morning to photograph it.

The fence was getting to be a bit long in the tooth. Was kind of funny, though, to see a pile of broken wooden slats in its place this morning. Lost most of the fence along the back and the side opposite to this bit of wood as well.

Was mentioning to Pavel that I thought it might be cheaper and prettier to replace the wood with shrubs: lilacs in the space pictured, as there're already two trees there; mountain laurels on the opposite side; across the back, due to drainage issues, pussy willows and/or forsythia. Of course, all's contingent on what we can find at the local Home Depot. (Wish us luck.)

Finch Brunch.

This morning, we counted six goldfinches (three males - I think, three females) and four house finches (two males, two females) on the seed feeders. Mealtime was civil save for a bit of a dogfight between two of the male goldfinches.

The sparrows kept their distance for a while.

Pavel was so pleased, as he'd feared not seeing any goldfinches at all this year.

-Wouldn't it be nice, he asked, if we'd just get a bluejay in for the color? He could come swooping in yelling "global warming! Global warming!" at everyone and the regular working class finches would continue eating and try to ignore him best as possible. Kind of like everyone else around here does.

(snort)

Did get our wish: a bluejay swooped in a bit after, but kept silent and to himself. Saw him grab himself a good bit of suet (takeout?) and settle down to eat on a fencepost on the other side of the yard.

Animal, Vegetable or Mineral?

(Not a mineral, which really narrows things down a bit, doesn't it.)

The leaves this year are absolutely spectacular. This week, too, the sky's really been pulling out all the stops in its competition with the leaves for our attention.

Tonight it was layers upon layers of different types of clouds shifting and swirling above. The pastels - pink, orange, lavender, gray and periwinkle - made their first appearances of the season.



Between two houses on the crown of Spring Hill.

Even after the sun slipped from view, we were treated to some startling colors from its last, fading, reflected rays.



Porter Square at about 7:00 pm tonight

Love this time of year. Heck, I love all the seasons for the surprises they bring. Gosh darnit, it's stuff like this that, no matter how tough or weird things get, makes life worth living.

In flux.

Took a wander out to Great Meadows today. Decided to leave the camera home for a change so as to really get a good look at things. Noted that the swamps had been drained and some of the greenery had been cleared away. In others areas, it was left to grow beyond what I'd ever seen before.

As always, the area was teeming with birds and other animals. This time around, though, their activity seem almost frenzied. Noted more snowy egrets than we'd ever seen there in all our visits. Saw and heard at least two blue herons. Ducks and geese could be seen in the reeds, nurturing what seemed the last broods before migration. In the newly-drained areas, we could see (and hear) what looked like common snipe chicks and possibly some yellow-legs. Also heard marsh wrens and (I'm pretty sure) the cries of fish hawks, both young and mature.

The main causeway was nearly covered with at least three different types of frogs. Caught one slow one and gave it to Pavel to hold for a while. Marveled at sunfish leaping out of the water to catch gnats.

Oh, and the plant life: tasted some wild grapes. Wished I could get close enough to sample a lotus pod. Were amazed to find what looked like a couple different types of dogwood (?). Decided that maybe, just maybe, a bouquet of loose strife (bad, bad loose strife) and goldenrod might not be such a bad thing. Over all, the setting sun was gradually changing the variegated sky from different shades of gunmetal to golds, purples and pinks, all while drenching the rest of the landscape with gold.

Chatted for a bit with one man on his evening constitutional. He'd noted the draining of the swamps and the decision to cut some areas while leaving others overgrown; was perplexed a bit by this. I mentioned that, though there was always a lot of bird activity, this seemed like the richest I'd ever seen things. Pondered on the politics of managing the wetlands area.

At that point, the sun's rays shifted, both changing the colors of the cloud kaleidoscope above and highlighting a (until that point unnoticed) band of early-changing sugar maples.

"We're in flux," he said. "The seasons are changing and this is a wild time for everyone. It's all happening so fast."

"...For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)/it's always ourselves we find in the sea."



Ripples in the sand at Sandy Point.

Spent some Quality Time with the Pavel and his sister on Plum Island yesterday. I share the quotidien with Pavel, so often miss the forest through the trees in his case. Anna, though she lives so nearby, is someone I don't spend nearly enough time with. This is hammered home each time I do see her. Idem for the Sea. (More pictures here, if you're interested.)



I was trying for a candid shot of Anna, but Pavel ended up walking on scene. Love it when he does that. Adds interest.

Toured Hellcat Swamp, looked at* birds at Sandy Point, then had dinner at The Grog**. Really, could there be a better way to end Summer?



Off into the sunset.

***

* As opposed to "birdwatching." We see birds and identify them. We do NOT go out to remote places with expensive equipment and identify plastic shopping bags as eagles.

** For an appetizer, we had squash ravioli with a cranberry-apple-apple cider sauce. Anna had the Sole Almondine with a really nice homemade pilaf. I had the Meatloaf special (luscious!), and Pavel had the burgah of the day. Wasn't totally happy with it; said was kind of gilding the lily with the port wine cheese and rosemary ham. Oh well, two outta three ain't bad.)

Don't usually like my stuff unedited. Love this one, though. (Taken just past the gates of the Wellington Yacht Club in...Medford(?)..north shore of the Mystic, anyway.)