About 100 ft. from my house stands a maple that has seen better days. The woodpeckers peck holes into the trunk, and it’s a wonder that the tree hasn’t lost more limbs in the recent windstorms.
Still, I love to see the woodpeckers, and I always have my camera handy for bird sightings. When I spotted this one on the maple this morning, I grabbed the camera and rushed out onto the deck to snap a photo. I closed the sliding door quietly.
“Please don’t fly away until I get a picture,” I whispered.
He didn’t fly away, so I snapped some more. Still he didn’t fly.
“This is great,” I thought. The squirrels were chattering noisily just then, and I assumed that the woodpecker hadn’t heard me tiptoeing out onto the deck.
But then I thought, “That’s strange. He should have flown by now. Or at least pecked at the bark. But he’s just sitting there. Maybe he’s sick.”
I brought the camera in and uploaded the photos onto the laptop. Then I could see the bird more clearly. I wasn’t sure what kind it was. Maybe not a pileated woodpecker, after all. He seemed to have morphed into something else.
A broken off branch surrounded by the maple’s tears?
Evidence of winter damage can last for years in America’s prairie landscapes. Farmers did their best to put up strong buildings to withstand the elements in the days before modern building materials were available. Even so, the fierce storms often proved too much for the buildings. These roofs most likely had a huge dump of snow on them at one time. The weight crushed the roofs as it crushed the farmer’s will to rebuild. In the dry climate, with little rainfall and lots of heat, crops could easily fail, discouraging even those who would have wished to rebuild.
Many buildings were left to their fate in the lonely landscape.
Even in more modern times, nature was more powerful than man. I hope the family who lived here wasn’t in the trailer when it blew over. If they were, they would have been rocking and rolling.
The tenants in these houses have moved out long ago. Most likely they, or the people they sold to, live nearby.
Somebody has to feed the horses.
Even the horses are hiding behind the house to get out of the blazing sun or the howling wind.
And yet, it’s a beautiful place to visit. Just very hard to live there, because the weather always wins.
Screaming winds ripped through the fir trees when they were still laden with snow. The weight of the snow and the push of the wind was too much for some branches. It will take some sawing to make this branch manageable in pieces for the yard cleanup.
But all is not doom and gloom. See the black creature between the trunks of the trees? She’s having fun.
Here is closer look.
Sorry. All we can see is her hind end. The front part of her body, especially the nose and front paws, are busy investigating whatever smells so good inside that old tree stump. It will be bath night tonight … again!
I can smell it in that stump,
Is it mouse or ratty’s rump?
Something yummy for my tummy,
Hope it hasn’t turned too gummy.
What care I if full of soil,
In the house the rugs I spoil?
I won’t cower in the shower,
Splashing water gives me power.
People love me even dirty,
They make kissing noise all flirty,
They will hug me, it won’t bug me,
Better clean though, soft and snuggly.
***** Please visit annelisplace for writing tips. Today we have more troublesome words explained.
The skiff of snow we had the other day was just the prelude to get us in tune for the magnum opus.
Some snow for Christmas was a fine seasonal touch, even if it was a bit hard on the birds, but the snowfall we had in the last two days, coupled with a drastic drop in temperatures and an increase in NW wind – well, let’s just say I’m praying for the return of my old friends, wind and rain.
Since the Arctic winds are coming from the north or northwest, I decided to put more birdseed on the leeward side of the house. Out of the wind, the picnic blanket won’t blow away or freeze to the ground as readily.
So, not being particularly house proud, I sprinkled bird seed liberally by my front door and in the dry edges near the house on the south and east sides.
Emma can’t believe her eyes. So many birds. You know she’s a “bird dog” but that is not supposed to apply to songbirds. She’s in shock that birds are right there on the other side of the glass – you know, that glass beside the door where she always looks out when she’s left behind.
“Wow!” she says. “A varied thrush!” And she tells herself to stop drooling.
“Oh, it’s you again,” says Vera Thrush. “You should stop poking your nose into the glass pane. You’re mucking it all up with noseprints.”
“On second thought,” thinks Vera, “I should maybe check out another area and come back later when that maniac killer dog is having a nap. But … does she ever sleep?” Vera turns to go. “Better safe than sorry…. Hmmpf! Can’t believe I said that. Such a cliché.”
A few nights ago, while I snuggled under the covers, the outside world was also being put under a cover — from freshly fallen snow.
The hummingbird feeder I had taken down to be out of the wind on the exposed deck, was no longer nestled among the branches that the birds used to love to sit on. (See the photo below). It had become a snow trap. Any bird venturing into the maze of bent down boughs might get a snow shower which, in the case of a tiny hummingbird, could be fatal. I had some work to do but I fixed up a place for the hummingbirds to feed safely.
The regular birdfeeders needed a place that was safe from the Steller’s jays who would gobble up the whole contents of the feeder. I had found a place in the branches of the filbert (hazelnut) tree. But then it snowed. Can you find the feeder to the left of the tree trunk and about four feet off the ground? The birds were happy to scratch up spilled seeds under the tree.
The Steller’s jay is quite the bully no matter where I put the seeds.
Pretty as the snow is, I worry about my poor little animals out there, scratching for enough food to keep warm and stay alive.
After weeks of hot, dry weather, the cooler days of autumn are so welcome. The grass that was yellow and breaking off if anyone walked on it, is breathing a huge sigh of relief. With each little rainfall, it has greened up slightly. Now, it is getting a really good soaking as the skies opened up and torrents of water dumped out.
And of course, I ran for the shovel when this rainbow appeared. I’m still looking for that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
wordsfromanneli 