Bringing the trash bins in this morning, I found the Italian cypress trees covered in these little pockets of spider webs, one above the other.
They went all the way up and down all of the trees, pockets of white, still covered in dew.
They stood out from the dark green trees and the way that they each just hung there, row after row, up and down, reminded me of those iconic, round towers next to the river in Downtown Chicago.
I don’t know what kind of spiders are building these, but this is their high-rise condo building along those same design lines.
Somewhere in thee is the little spider equivilent of Dr. Bob Hartley!
On the one hand, it was incredibly special and SPECTACULAR for me to see fireflies again for the first time in probably 55-60 years.
Out in back of the Hartness House is this lovely area surrounded by trees and a couple of fountains and a gazebo. When we first pulled in it was after midnight, and the sky overhead was crystal clear, filled with more stars than I’ve seen in years and years. Some of them were blinking and moving, and the trees were also filled with blinking, yellow stars.
Click on it to blow it up and you can see a couple of them. I tried every night to get better pictures but this was as good as it got. I’ll just have to settle for the memories. Which, as I said, were SPECTACULAR!
Two of the local rabbits on our front lawn this evening, illuminated by the streetlight and a tiny bit of moonlight:
I wasn’t sure if the picture was going to come out, but the iPhones these days (this is a 13) have amazing low light capabilities. To the eye it was much, MUCH darker. I could barely see the rabbits.
They get all upset when I go out to stretch my legs, but were I to be them I would be more concerned about owls and coyotes.
A new reader, Victoria, stumbled on an old post which had the audio from the hummingbirds “clicking” as they flew around. She was wondering what they looked like.
Funny you should ask.
It turns out that this weekend, while I was trying to get some peace and quiet sitting in the shade in the back yard and reading, a rough and rowdy band of three hummingbirds decided that I was an idiot who didn’t know that their feeder (which I was sitting near) was empty. They buzzed me repeatedly, and would hover right in front of my face within an arm’s length, then zoom up to hover next to the empty feeder, then zoom back down into my face, and repeat two or three more times before zooming off into the trees. The message seemed pretty obvious.
“Look, stupid human who’s supposed to keep the feeders filled! This one’s empty! See! Hey, look at us! Hey, look at the empty feeder!”
After they did this two or three times and I was too surprised and stunned to get my phone out, two of them came back for one more pass.
I haven’t played with the audio to clean it up and the YouTube compression algorithm butchers the sound a lot, but you can still hear them zooming.
For having a brain that’s smaller than a walnut, they sure can fly, and apparently make the connection between me (or at least, people in general) and their feeder being refilled. They’ve watched me do it enough times. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible or likely, but I’ve been wrong before.
Or I’m wrong now, anthropomorphizing the crap out of the situation, and just feeling guilty about letting the feeder get empty. (There are other feeders, the trees are in bloom and covered in pollen, and the place is lousy with flowers in bloom. None of them are starving to death.)
It also reminds me that the Forever Home, wherever it might be, needs to have lots of birds in general, hummingbirds specifically. I live for this particular style of abuse.
And a handful of birds. It was later in the day and most of the food had been eaten – when the day’s bounty is first cast out onto the lawn we can get the squirrel(s) plus 20-25 or more mourning doves, a dozen or two house finches, as many as 15 juncos if they’ve migrated in, plus towhees, mockingbirds, and whoever else happens to be in the area and wondering what the crowd’s all about.
For some reason my brain hears this phrase in Patrick Stewart’s voice as Jean Luc Picard in the “Chain Of Command” episode of “Star Trek: The Next Generation,” where at the end he’s screaming at the Cardassian, Madred, who has been torturing and drugging him, trying to break him and get him to admit to seeing five lights when there are actually only four.
Any disturbance, noise, or movement at all and these two idiots are sprinting for the tree and then stopping to see if that was the proper course of action:
Dumb as a sack of hammers, but so far they’ve managed to avoid becoming Purina Hawk Chowder, so I guess it’s working!
Most years we’ve been in this house we’ve had nests out on the porch, usually house finches, sometimes mourning doves and hummingbirds. This year is no different.
Today however I noticed a bird staying in the nest even when I came outside (this is right above the sliding glass door) when in the past they’ve flown off instantly, so I’m guessing there are eggs in the nest now.
Mama Bird is on watch. I sat down nearby and the male immediately came over and perched on the rain gutter next to the nest. I’m guessing any attempt to get closer would have been met with an attempted eye gouging. I saw what happened to Tippi Hedron & Rod Taylor – I kept my distance.
Here it is, your standard issue, dimestore model male Northern Mockingbird, found year-around almost anywhere in North America except for the very most northern tier of states, Washington to Minnesota.
That jaunty tail, the grey stripes, the flash of white under the wings when it’s in flight… Common and unmistakable.
But most recognizeable of all is its song(s). They have a standard repertoire which is easily recognizeable, but they’re also incredible mimics and can learn to imitate everything from the local stray cats to car alarms.
And the males almost never shut up.
I’ve almost always loved hearing them and they’ve never before bothered me at night, even though they drove my first wife crazy. But now, there’s one in particular that sits outside of our bedroom all freakin’ night long EVERY NIGHT and goes on and on and on and on… This means it’s probably a young male trying to find a mate, and I can understand the desire. But at this point I wonder what I can do to help move the process along.
Can I hire a mockingbird matchmaker? Can I hire a mockingbird prostitute? I’m open to options!
We Love The Stars Too Fondly 