Juicy, tarty, sweet,
The plums weigh down the tree,
I bite into their meat,
Tastes heavenly to me.
Jams and cakes galore,
The winter’s treats await,
It’s what we have in store.
Who cares if we gain weight?
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.
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.
Red, Aren’t You?
These pears are one of my favourites. Firm and juicy and not so quick to bruise after you pick them.
They are red. Aren’t you?
Let me try that again. Put a little bit of French into the second part.
They are Red Anjou.
So delicious.
These pears are believed to have originated near the city of Angers, France, which was the seat of the Plantagenet dynasty. The pears showed up in the United States in 1842 and now represent 34 % of the U.S. pear market.
I’m not surprised they’re popular. They are so tasty.
A Cool Snake
This carpet python is not the same one as in the previous post, but the story happened nearby. My friend noticed the snake lying near the road and wondered if it had been run over. If not, it soon could be. She dropped a stick on it to see if it would move, and as you can see, it did not. In order to move it away from the roadside, she considered picking it up, but, as these snakes can be heavy and she is not a weightlifter, she called on a friend to come and help. (I chuckle when I imagine that these are her excuses for not feeling comfortable handling a snake. I wouldn’t be either.)
As you may know, snakes don’t hibernate in the sense that mammals do, but they will den up and cuddle for warmth. As the weather cools, the snakes tend to slow down if they can’t find a sunny spot to stay warm.
This particular fellow was stranded in a cool place and his already cool blood was not able to keep him active. He was pretty much stuck. You might say he was close to having “viperthermia.”
In the photo below, notice how the snake is just dangling there, not very active. He needed to be warmed up, and what better way to get his blood flowing again than with a nice cuddle. This is what the friend is doing, trying to warm up the cool guy. He walked with the snake to a sunny patch. With about ten minutes of cuddling and two minutes of sunshine, the snake was feeling better and became more lively.
He was squirming all over the place, and although the friend was in no danger of being swallowed, he didn’t want to get nipped either. See him holding the snake’s head away, just in case.
I thank you, Sir, for warming me,
So I can make my way,
To someplace safe where sun I see,
But no one knows I stay.
For snake blood without sun is cool,
My body sluggish, slow,
I’ll lie beside the swimming pool,
But stay! No need to go!
I only want to stay mobile,
And so need to keep warm,
If I can hide in this woodpile,
I’ll be in finest form.
Carpet Python
This carpet python in Australia is very well camouflaged. His head is just to the right of the farthest fern on the left. From there, if you follow his curves along to the end of his long body, you will notice that he gets fatter and fatter. I shudder to think what little animal has been swallowed whole.
Carpet Python, photo by Leslie
Imagine walking down the steps to the back yard to put something into the compost and then, on your return, noticing that you must have walked right over a python of over six feet in length.
Luckily, these pythons are not venomous. They eat small animals like mice and rats, birds, and lizards. They can open their jaws wider than we might think, judging by the size of the head, but after an initial bite, they wrap their body around the animal to constrict its blood flow, and once the animal is unconscious, it is usually swallowed whole.
I spied my meal behind a fern,
And slithered close to see,
But Ratty didn’t even turn,
And soon was food for me.
I wrapped my “arm” around him then,
And told him not to fear,
“It’s just so you won’t feel it when
I swallow you, my dear.”
Though Ratty passed out right away,
And slipped right down my throat,
It would be wrong for me to say,
I didn’t smile and gloat.
He kicked a bit when he awoke,
He scrabbled in my gut,
And rather than to lose the bloke,
I kept my big mouth shut.
Blackberry Time
My mouth is watering as I look at these blackberries. You can make desserts with them, but why go to so much trouble? Just pop them into your mouth. They are SO good!
They make the best jam too.
Unfortunately, they are not the easiest berries to pick. As much as I love to eat them, I hate to pick them.
O’ juicy black berry, the sweetest of all,
You ripen so perfectly now that it’s fall.
I reach up to pick you, but you say, “I’ll prick you!
I’ll tangle your sleeve and for help you will call.”
“If that doesn’t work, I will call on a friend,
A wasp or a hornet will gladly attend.
They’ll zing you and fling you, they even will sting you.
Your bullying picking time comes to an end.”
“If need be, I’ll call for more friends, you’ll be bit,
My thorns and the spiders will go for your mitt.
They prickle and tickle, you’ll be in a pickle,
Until you cry out, ‘That’s enough now! I quit!'”
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.
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,
Coffee and Good Pie
Back in 1953 when my family came to Canada from Germany, my dad had a job in a stationery store where they also sold and repaired typewriters. Remember those?
You can see the stationery store front in this photo (which happened to be taken on the day of the Fall Fair parade).
My dad was very good at fixing typewriters and small office machines. He worked hard at his job, and the company he worked for encouraged him to go to night classes to learn English, which he did. He was doing his best to learn the new language.
One day, his co-worker suggested that they go to the New Palace Hotel and Cafe for their coffee break. It was just at the end of the block where they worked, and would be quick.
In this old photo, also taken on the day of the Fall Fair parade, you can see the New Palace, the lighter building on the left.
I just noticed the people on top of the hotel building. They’re there to watch the parade.
“They make the best pies,” he said.
“Yes, but mein English…. I not know vaht to say.” My dad’s face scrunched up with worry.
“No problem,” said his buddy. “You just say, ‘Coffee and good pie’.”
“Okay.” My dad nodded. All the way to the coffee shop he practiced. “Kaffee and kood pie. Kaffee and kood pie. Kaffee and kood pie.” He was already imagining how good it would be.
In the New Palace Cafe, they sat in a booth, and when the waitress came over, my dad said, “Kaffee … and kood pie.”
A few moments later, she came back with the cup of coffee. She slammed it down on the table, and stuck her nose in the air as she spun around and flounced away.
My dad sat there, stunned. “Vaht heppen?” he asked.
His co-worker winced. “I think she thought you said, ‘Coffee! And goodbye!'”
wordsfromanneli 