Crops & Clips: Flashback to September, 2017

Reviewing the photo archives from three years back excites memories of our former home in the mountains of New Mexico. As usual, I will search for images which reflect favorite memes: critters of all kinds (especially birds), skies and clouds, reflections, flowers and fences, as well as scenes which speak for themselves. 

In our local south Florida wetlands I photographed this Female Northern Cardinal, on September 4th:



Prairie Warblers had returned from their nesting areas in coastal Mangroves:

  



September, 2017 opened as Hurricane Irma, an extremely powerful Cape Verde hurricane, was building up strength to Category 3. South Florida remained firmly in its projected path as it moved slowly towards us. At first we thought it would be safe to ride out the storm. On September 4 Irma was approaching the eastern Carribbean and had reached Category 5 with winds of 180 mph (285 km/h). It was expected to strike Florida on or about September 7th. 

The view before sunrise on September 1:



Walking home under an unsettled sky:



Ahead, a Raccoon crossed the path:



Queen Butterfly on Bidens alba:



We then decided to shutter our home and find higher ground, but could not book a flight to our condo in Illinois. Alternatively, we decided to fly to Albuquerque, New Mexico via a 2-stop itinerary, reaching there on September 6th. 

The hurricane almost stalled before reaching Cuba on September 9 and the next day made landfall along the west coast of Florida. It spared our home a direct hit but we were in its huge wind field with hurricane-force winds extending out 80 mi (130 km) and gale-force winds spanning an area 220 mi (350 km) in diameter.

In Albuquerque we stayed in Kirtland Air Force Base lodging with the Sandia Mountains as a backdrop:



We wasted no time and drove up to Sandia Crest (elevation 10,678 ft / 3,255 m), birding along the 12 mile road which winds its way to the top. About halfway up, we stopped at Capulin Spring with its famous water feature which is very attractive to birds in the dry habitat. When we lived in New Mexico, MaryLou and I spent several years as volunteer interpreters with the US Forest Service and this was a  prime objective on our nature walks. 

Our retreat from Hurricane Irma to "high and dry" New Mexico provided me with great memories of when we lived here. In the early 1990s I worked with other USFS volunteers to rehabilitate an old hollow log which had served as a wildlife watering trough. It was rotted at one end and the pipes which fed water into it from Capulin Spring had shattered after the rock wall which enclosed it deteriorated into rubble. 

We replaced the pipe and reconstructed the wall, restoring the flow of water, and we covered the hole in the log with a rubber plate. This worked well for over a dozen years but the log had to be finally replaced by one hewn out painstakingly by a new generation of US Forest Service volunteers. It had now been flowing for about two years and this was the first time I visited the (now new) "Bird Log at Capulin Spring" in more than seven years. It lives up to its reputation, attracting nearly every local and migratory bird and mammal species to this only source of water over an expanse of mountainous forest in the Sandia Mountains east of Albuquerque.

The "Bird Log" at Capulin Spring:



Traveling light, I carried only my new mirrorless camera and still had not mastered all of its adjustments, so my photographic record is poor. Among the avian visitors to the log, a Townsend's Warbler...

 

...a Mountain Chickadee...



...a Dark-eyed (Gray-headed) Junco...



...Wilson's Warbler...



...Plumbeous Vireo...



...Spotted Towhee...



...Cassin's Finch...



...and, among many other species, a Green-tailed Towhee...



...and a Chipmunk:



Nearby Balsam Glade Picnic Area provided a panoramic view to the northeast:



At the top of Sandia Crest was the Gift Shop and Restaurant where I instituted the Rosy-Finch feeding program which has grown into an important research site for these threatened species. They would not be visiting here until the snows of November, but the sugar water feeders attracted Black-chinned Hummingbirds:







The Crest House deck overlooks Albuquerque and the Rio Grande Valley:



We returned to Florida on September 12 to find that we had suffered no wind damage and only had a  few hours' lapse in electric service. We then took our previously planned flight to Illinois only 4 days later. The view of Port Everglades as we took off from Fort Lauderdale early on September 16:



Lovable Tibetan Mastiff Agramonte, our daughter's family pet, greeted us:



Fall migration was underway. A rainwater impoundment in St. Charles attracted a Buff-breasted Sandpiper...



...and Wilson's Snipe...



...as an immature Red-tailed Hawk kept watch:



We visited Jones Meadow Park near our condo:

 

The bridge over Blackberry Creek in Bliss Woods:



I  love this barn scene at Hannaford woods, which I reproduced as a simulated oil painting (click to enlarge):



Along the trail in Hannaford, there were Red-headed Woodpeckers... 



...and a Magnolia Warbler was surrounded by a bokeh glow:



On September 30, MaryLou was dwarfed by the lone oak at Hawk's Bluff Park, a few doors from our daughter's home in Batavia:



A White-breasted Nuthatch explored its spreading limbs:



Hurricane Irma caused at least 134 deaths, 92 in the contiguous United States. Florida's estimated economic agricultural damages alone totaled over $2.5 Billion, according to the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services. There was massive loss of flowering and fruiting plants in the wild lands as well. It took over two years for several species of butterflies to rebound from the loss of adults, eggs, larvae and nectar sources.

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Linking to:

Fences Around the World

Skywatch Friday

Weekend Reflections

Saturday's Critters

BirdD'Pot

Camera Critters

All Seasons

Wordless Wednesday (on Tuesday)

Natasha Musing

Our World Tuesday

Wild Bird Wednesday

My Corner of the World

Timeless Thursday

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Please visit the links to all these posts to see some excellent photos on display
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Remembering our father: Pater Noster

Celebrating Fathers Day by re-posting a blog I wrote back on January 28, 2007. My father loved to visit the old churches in New Mexico. This is El Santuario de Chimayó:

The church at Acoma Pueblo:



My fondest memories of childhood were not those of solitary pursuits. Not having someone there to share an otherwise awesome event seems to take the edge off the experience. Maybe it’s because I simply want to say, “Hey, look at that!” and feel the satisfaction of having another appreciate and later reiterate the experience. 

Frequently, it works the other way. So many times I might have missed what another pointed out or interpreted. 

I feel some sadness when I see parents showering their children with expensive gifts and elaborate parties. How often are the kids more fascinated with the packing crate than the contents? 

Yes, that Christmas when I received the full-sized balloon-tired two-wheeler persists in my memory, but I smile and relax when I think of those woodland walks with my father... 

...Tracking rabbits and mice in the snow and even finding the spot where one ended with wing prints of an owl and a splash of red...

...The day we encountered a young Great Blue Heron who could not become airborne because it was trapped among dense trees along the Passaic River—how Dad covered its head and mean-looking beak with his jacket so we could carry it out into an open field—the thrill of seeing the bird slowly rise on untried wings…

One Spring I attended a week-long medical refresher course at the YMCA of the Rockies in Estes Park, Colorado. I invited my parents to join us, and they flew to Dallas. Mary Lou and I and our four children set out with them in our 1972 Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser station wagon. Despite the demands of the curriculum, we found time to walk the trails and see deer, beavers, American Dippers and a family of Blue Grouse (now known as Dusky Grouse).

We had followed a direct route to Colorado, but after the conference I took leave for a few days to permit a more leisurely trip back to Texas. On the return leg, we spent two nights at Kachina Lodge in Taos, New Mexico.

The first night we watched Pueblo Indian dances, and the next morning we attended Sunday Mass at San Francisco de Asis in Ranchos de Taos. This adobe church, completed in 1815, is said to be the most photographed church in America. 

(Dad loved the old churches of New Mexico. This photo shows him, on the right, with his brother, Father Dan, on the High Road to Taos, visiting the church at Truchas/Las Trampas).

 

The ceremony was entirely in Spanish. It happened to be Father’s Day. The priest invited all fathers to join him on the altar to recite the Lord’s Prayer. Dad and I walked up and joined the congregation in prayer. I knew some Spanish, but Dad knew none. That did not dissuade him. 

He put his hand on my shoulder and launched into the Latin version of the prayer. While everyone else was saying “Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos, santificado sea tu nombre…” Dad was confidently announcing “Pater noster qui es in coelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum.” The Romance cadences were so similar that no one seemed to notice. That Father’s Day and all others afterwards held special significance for me.

During my working years I enjoyed beating the traffic and getting to the office early. I was able to close my office door and organize my day in peace and quiet before my co-workers appeared. When I retired from active duty I resolved never to sleep late. Therefore, when we moved to the mountains of New Mexico I set the alarm on my watch for 7:30 AM to nudge me awake just in case, but I rarely needed it. Dawn came quick and bright as the sun emerged in a blue sky above the ridge to the east.

So it happened that on Sundays, 7:30 AM Mountain Time was an ideal time for me to call my father, back home in New Jersey. By then he had returned home from early Mass and had finished his breakfast, and was in the middle of his morning papers. The chirp of my watch alarm was a gentle reminder, and rarely did I miss placing the call. If I happened to be a little late, he would ask about the reason for the delay. At Dad’s funeral, his younger brothers told me how important those calls were to him. Unbeknown to me, he arranged his Sunday morning schedule to accommodate my call.

We talked about nothing in particular, though we often filled the greater part of an hour with banter. Embedded among discussions of the weather, politics and sports were those “I wish you could have seen…” and “Remember when we…” moments that swept us back to those earlier days.

I last called Dad only a few days before he died. He spoke of how wonderful it was to have a hospital room with a view.

Now in the Eastern Time Zone, my wristwatch still chirps at 7:30. Though two hours earlier in real time, the sun already dapples on the surface of our lake. And I whisper a Pater Noster in remembrance. 

Linking to Wordless Wednesday (on Tuesday) by NC Sue

Linking to ALL SEASONS by Jesh

Calm before the storm

The approach of Irma, the most powerful Atlantic hurricane in history, struck fear as she moved directly towards our south Florida home. During the previous week the weather had been normal for late summer.

The view of our local wetlands before sunrise while the storm was still far away:



Fair skies in mid-morning:



At first we planned to shutter our home and ride out the storm, windowless in the dark, as we are 8 feet above sea level and 18 miles inland. Our anxiety increased as we saw neighbors preparing to drive north or book flights out of state. 

Earlier, the storm had been projected to hit on Friday, but we saw long lines at gas stations and grocery store shelves going bare. On Tuesday Mary Lou and I visited nearby Chapel Trail Nature Preserve and as we walked along the fenced boardwalk we spent more time discussing our options than looking for birds. The morning was clear and calm:



We suddenly decided to evacuate to someplace high and dry, so on Wednesday morning we flew to New Mexico. The only connecting flight available took us through Kansas City, and we arrived on Wednesday afternoon and occupied visitors' quarters at mile-high Kirtland Air Force Base. 

The sun rose over the Manzanita Mountains east of Albuquerque:



The next morning we observed the famous "Bird Log" at the Capulin Spring picnic area in Cibola National Forest in the Sandia Mountains. For me this was a homecoming of sorts, as in the early 1990s I had worked with a crew of US Forest Service volunteers to rehabilitate and restore water to an old hollow log which had served as a wildlife drinker.

The pipe from the spring had frozen and cracked and the stone wall which enclosed it had to be reassembled and cemented. The log had a large hole which we covered with a rubber sheet. (Les Hawkins was the volunteer who energized the rehabilitation of the log. Here is a  2002 article about him. Les celebrated his 100th birthday in 2014 but I have since lost contact with him.)

Until we moved from New Mexico to Florida in 2004, Mary Lou and I led weekly US Forest Service bird walks in the Sandia Mountains, often visiting this site. It became popular with birders from many countries. 


This is the original log as it appeared in 2008:



The old log finally fell apart and last year a new generation of volunteers used chain saws to carve out a new log to replace the original. They did a great job and restored the flow of water. 

Since this is the only constant water source in a large expanse of mountainous forest, one should expect to see just about every species of bird and mammal which inhabits this area. 

The new Bird Log (click on photo and scroll right and left to see many more enlarged views of the log and its visitors):





I left my DSLR behind and traveled with my new light weight mirrorless camera (Olympus E-M10 Mark II). The photos are mostly of poor quality, but they document the very engaging hours of just sitting and clicking as the show went on before our eyes. Among the avian visitors, nearly none of which I could expect to find in Florida were...

Western Tanager...



...photo-bombed by a Townsend's Warbler:



A (not much) better view of the Townsend's Warbler:



Mountain Chickadee:



Hermit Thrush:



Green-tailed Towhee:



Cassin's Finch (male):



Cassin's Finch (female):



Plumbeous Vireo:



Western race of Orange-crowned Warbler, more colorful than the drab Tiaga subspecies which visits south Florida in winter:



Enjoying a bath in "The Bird Log:"



Audubon subspecies of Yellow-rumped Warbler. It has a yellow throat in contrast to the white throat of the eastern Myrtle subspecies which migrates into Florida:



Wilson's Warbler:





Spotted Towhee:



A Chipmunk:



A Mule Deer doe crashed the party but fled when she sensed my presence:



The hurricane arrived on Saturday, a bit late, and had major impact on the west (Gulf) coast of Florida rather than delivering the predicted direct hit on our neighborhood. It was so large that major damaging effects were felt over the entire Florida peninsula as it moved northward. 

We flew back on Tuesday to a home which had gone without electricity for 48 hours, but power was restored during our flight.  The house suffered no structural damage, although tree limbs and palm lfronds cluttered our yard. Thanks, not only to Irma's decision to veer off to the west coast, but also to so many of you who expressed concern and good wishes. As it turned out, the storm forced us into an unexpected and very pleasant vacation!

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Linking to Misty's  CAMERA CRITTERS,

Linking to Eileen's SATURDAY'S CRITTERS,

Linking to FENCES AROUND THE WORLD by Gosia

Linking to SKYWATCH FRIDAY by Yogi, Sylvia and Sandy

Linking to WEEKEND REFLECTIONS by James

Linking to BirdD'Pot by Anni

Linking to Wild Bird Wednesday by Stewart

Linking to Wordless Wednesday (on Tuesday) by NC Sue

Linking to ALL SEASONS by Jesh

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Please visit the links to all these memes to see some excellent photos on display


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