wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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Harvest Time

The squirrels have been harvesting hazelnuts from the trees and hiding them to be retrieved in the winter.

Along comes Woodrow the Woodpecker, innocently looking for bugs.

Ronald Rabbit knows the squirrels wouldn’t like their stash to be unearthed, but, “What to do? What to do?”

“Mind your own business, Ronald,” says Woodrow. “That’s “What to do’!”

“I’m telling,” shouts Ronald. “The people will let their dog out and then you’ll be sorry.” Meanwhile, I have one leg raised and ready to make a run for it.

“Look out, you guys! Here I come. And don’t forget! I may be a teddy bear in the house, but I’m a wolverine in the field.”

“Are you serious?” Woodrow calls to Ronald. “Now that the dog is out, we’ll all have to make a run for it.”

“Aw, do what you want. I’m going up here to higher ground and — oh! What have we here? A hole in the tree. Anybody home?”

And so life goes on … unless you’re a bug in that tree.

 

 

 

 

 


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King Parrots and Crimson Rosellas

These king parrots seem to tolerate the two crimson rosellas at the left of the photo (sent by Leslie from Australia). I’m not sure what would happen if there were a shortage of seeds on those brick pavers, but as long as there is enough for everyone, there doesn’t seem to be a problem sharing.

Bright and beauteous, that we are,

Folks admire us from afar.

If they put down seeds for us,

And come closer, we won’t fuss.


49 Comments

You and Me and Rain on the Roof

A young eagle on one of his first outings.

Hmm! Great view from up here.

Kind of windy though.

Yikes! That gust nearly unseated me.

I wonder if I should find a better place. A bit exposed here….

Help! Eeeeek! Eeeeek! Mom!

My feathers are getting all ruffled up.

Starting to rain too.

Here comes the rain. Tiny drops are gathering on my feathers. And then there’s that wind. I think I should find another place to hang out. Lots of trees out there with branches for a better grip.


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Mountain Ash and Holly

As I wrote the title to this post, I thought it might be misleading, with all the local wildfires making ashes of some of our “mountains,” but it is the tree that I am referring to in this post.

Each spring, the mountain ash gets clusters of little white flowers. Later in the summer, those flowers turn into red berries that will supply food for birds that are still here in the late autumn. It’s a time of year when the birds are trying to get the last of the summer’s bounty to build up their strength to meet the coming winter, or to make any lengthy flights they might have planned.

On one of those cool autumn days, the flocks (usually robins) will come and occupy the tree like so many shivering ornaments on a Christmas tree. They gobble down as many of these berries as they can. Sometimes it is already late in the fall and the berries are getting a bit overripe. The birds have been known to get a bit tipsy from eating the wine-like berries.  Beware the windows nearby, little birds, when you can’t fly straight.

 

They also visit the holly trees for their berries, but they eat more carefully. Holly leaves can be prickly.

 

Mountain ash and holly,

They make a late snack jolly,

But berries that ferment,

Can cause flights to be bent.

 

 


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The Common Loon

On a small lake in northwestern Washington State, my friend Sonia was kayaking and had a close look at a pair of common loons. One of them is pictured here. I did some digging for information and found out that except for the difference in their size, it is not easy tell male from female at a glance. So whichever it is, he or she would like to chat you up with a poem. Beware! It may be a bit loony.

I swim on a whim

And I’m good with a dive,

I stay slim and trim,

And it keeps me alive.

 

Spearing fish as I wish,

Or a scared little crab,

I’ll swish a big dish,

Or a wee, tiny dab.

 

My feet you can’t beat,

‘Cause they paddle quite well,

So sweet and so neat,

And they never will smell. 

 

 

If lost in the frost,

Time to leave for the sea,

Or be tossed with such cost, 

When the cold comes to me.

 

 

At sea I feel free,

And I call to my mates,

My plea, “Come to me,”

Seems to open the gates.

 

 


39 Comments

Australian King Parrot

Just imagine what a thrill it would be to have one of these king parrots land on your back fence to ask for a snack. I would probably break a leg running for my camera. This photo was taken by my friend Leslie who lives in Australia. She assures me that she hasn’t broken a leg.

 

Maybe he’s getting ready for Christmas, wearing his best bright red and green finery.

He’s already looking for his presents in the form of a handout of seeds and any other fruit goodies that may come his way.

 

Eucalyptus, bolly gum.

These are foods that make me hum,

Berries make some tasty feeds,

Sometimes topped with hasty seeds.

 

Eating seeds of tuckeroo,

I’m a tough young buckaroo,

Nectar tasty as the seeds,

Yes, this tree fulfills my needs.

 

Berries of the lilly pilly, 

I could eat them ’til I’m silly,

Great bush tucker for a bird,

But there’s more, don’t be absurd.

 

Apples, pears, bananas, figs,

Mangos have me dancing jigs,

So much fruit is good for me,

I won’t starve here, don’t you see?

 

But if nature’s food is low, 

Always, there’s a place to go.

Folks don’t feed me out of duty,

They all love me for my beauty,

 

 

 

 

 


49 Comments

A Stupid-People Fire

Looking out from my house a couple of days ago, I saw what turned out to be a 4.5 hectare wildfire near Comox Lake, which is up in that forested area (the water in the lower part of the photo is salt water).

Luckily, the firefighters who respond to wildfires were quick to get up there, and after a while they got the fire at least to stop spreading. If not for them, it could have been very bad.

Man made, they think. These fires so often are. If it isn’t arson, then it’s carelessness and stupidity.

Campfires made where they should not be made at this time of year, and not put out properly.

A carelessly tossed cigarette.

Broken glass left lying around where the sun (scorching hot these days) can magnify and start a grass fire.

I don’t know what the cause was this time, but there’s a 99% chance it was preventable.

 

I worry about the poor little birds and animals who have to flee for their lives, if they can. So many of the tinier ones have no hope of going far enough away to escape the flames.

 


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Crossbill

The red crossbill (Loxia curvirostra) is one of six species of crossbill, three of which are found in North America. I was surprised to find out they belong to the finch family. Their crossed bills are especially helpful in picking out the seeds in the cones of spruce, pine, and Douglas fir trees. A few summers ago I had a pair of them come down from the firs to visit my birdfeeder and I was able to get some photos.

Their feet are also rather unique. It’s almost as if they are what we would call “pigeon toed,” turning inward slightly so they have a parrot-like walk.

The photo below reminds me of those hidden pictures they have in children’s puzzle books. Find the female crossbill hiding in the rhodo.

*Hint: It’s near the middle.

 

They didn’t stay long. Maybe they were on their way to somewhere on a holiday and just stopped here for a few days. I wish they would come back. I loved having them here.

Come out of hiding, Lady Love,

Enjoy this feast with me,

I’ll watch for danger from above,

So we can quickly flee.

 


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Hungry Heron

It seems that herons spend a lot of time standing on one leg with their neck pulled in. This guy looks like a grandpa with his hunched over posture and his beard.

Most likely, though, while he soaks up some rays of sunshine, he is thinking about where his next meal will come from. He is quite capable of standing perfectly still, conserving his energy.  He will step off his rock patio when he gets hungry and stalk that frog he’s been watching. The frog will most likely think the heron is just another rock or a shrub of some sort because it hasn’t moved in so long.

 

“No, please don’t spear me,” Froggie cries,

“My life has been so short.”

“But, Fred, you’re lunch,” the heron sighs,

“I don’t do this for sport!”

 

“Whatever shall I tell my wife,

When I’m not home on time?

It seems so cruel to take a life,

In fact, it is a crime.”

 

 

“I’ll tell you what,” the heron said,

“You need to eat as well.

Don’t worry. Eat some flies instead,

And I’ll just wait a spell.”

 

 

As Freddie Frog lapped up the flies,

The heron quick and able,

Got ready to ignore his cries,

And speared him for his table.

 

**Photo by Sonia from her visit to the George C. Reifel Migratory Bird Sanctuary in Delta, B.C.