Hope is the thing with feathers.

As it's been warm enough lately to sleep with both the windows and the back porch door open, I've been getting woken up early (like 4:00 am ish) by the birds. Often it's cardinals working at establishing territory. Sometimes it's house finch chatter. Every now and again, it'll be a little white-throated sparrow singing a matin.*

Thank goodness for Spring! Thank heavens for those bird-songs!

When there's enough light (and it's not too damp, of course), I've been taking to sitting out on the balcony with a cup of coffee, the cats and a knitting project. The knitting's a great soul-soother; don't know why, but it seems that when my hands are moving, my mind gets calmer and I can think more clearly.

Lately, my fingers have been itching to swatch bits of lace. Sometimes they stay swatches, other times they grow into projects. Here's a little pattern for something I whipped up recently based on the Gull Lace Stitch made popular by the legendary Elizabeth Zimmermann.

Hopeful Neckwarmer (Pattern Available Here.)





***

* Sparrow is moineau in French, so we like to say that it's un petit moineau-moine qui chante ses matins. Have also decided that he's a Franciscan, since he dresses in brown and that's the big animal-friendly order.

Surprise!

Had a rather unexpected visitor at the Awesome Yew Diner this afternoon:



Apologies for the poor image quality. The kitchen window works well for Kitty TV, but it's an awful place for photography. Shot this through a dirty window and screen. This time of day, whatever I want to photograph is generally pretty badly backlit. Buddy didn't want to wait around for me to open the screen and position my camera better, either.

Springtime, there's normally a peregrine nest in the Norway Maple a couple yards over. We've picked up the remains of pigeons all over the place here and have even seen blue jays mob these guys out of our yard. This is the closest, though, that I've been to one in a while. He looked like an immature male.

***

Update: Scared him/her away when I opened the screen, but noted that s/he was still keeping watch from a safe distance.



Keeping an eye out from the Norway Maple in our backyard.

S/he swooped down about a half an hour later, clearing the sparrows out of the yew and allowing us a better look. The topside was so gray as to be almost blue, the beak was hooked and we noted bold stripes on the tail. The lack of "mutton chops" on the face and the smaller size than what one normally sees in Peregrines around here led us to change our minds on what exactly the bird was. Perhaps our visitor was a wayward Sharp-shinned hawk.

Hopefully they'll come back again today so that we can get another look. (I'm thinking that they might be around, actually, as the seed and suet I put out yesterday haven't been touched. Normally the sparrows, finches and chickadees would have gone through at least half of it by now.)

The weather's been glorious lately, so I've been taking in as much sun as possible. Really does wonders for the mood, the muscles, the joints. Am looking forward to a weekend of being outside, if possible.

Anyway, can try to catch up in one area of the life.

Bird Log:

Thursday, 21 October - Fresh Pond, Cambridge.

3-4 coots
+20 ring-necked ducks



A Flotilla. I'd say that this was probably 1/2 mallards, 1/2 ringnecks with a few coots thrown in for good measure.

3 nuthatches (heard)
1 downy woodpecker (heard)

Roughly two dozen cormorants perched in trees near the shore.



Just one guy. Branches made it hard to take a picture to the gaggle of these birds in the trees, too. Some had orange beaks, others had black ones. They were also vocalizing quite a bit, too. Pavel read later that they talked a lot when they were roosting. Funny, never saw these birds in trees before. Only on lower perches like rocks, buoys and rafts.

Saturday, 23 October - Plum Island, MA

Large quantities of three types of birds:

-Gulls (black-backed, herring, ring-billed, common terns)
-Sea-Ducks (mainly common eiders, but I think I saw a juvenile scoter.)
-Waders (Plovers: 1 black-bellied in Winter colors, several semipalmated. Two types of sandpipers.)



Sandpipers! Lots of em!

Monday, 25 October - Lexington, MA

Another trip out to Great Meadows. This was kind of a spur of the moment thing at the end of the day. We were grocery shopping in Arlington, so decided to get a quick walk in before sunset. When we got there, started chatting with an older gentleman who visited daily. Talked about birds and favorite places to look at birds of course; learned a fair bit as well (namely what the little black and yellow birds were that we saw darting around in proliferation. I thought they were winter-colored goldfinches or yellow warblers. He said that those had gone away since about September and that those we were seeing were actually yellow rumped warblers).

Anyway:

+-10 yellow rumps
1 great blue heron
1 hawk - smaller than a redtail, but not a harrier.
3-4 dozen swamp sparrows
Lots of mallards, lots of canadas.



Quite a few canada rumps, too.

3 red-winged blackbirds (males)
2-3 nuthatches (heard)
2+ downy woodpeckers (heard)

The fellow we were talking to mentioned that he saw a couple bluebirds that day. Sadly, we missed them.

Tuesday, 26 October - Somerville/Medford, MA

Wandered around the Mystic. Did not see much aside from a couple chickadees, several song sparrows and a whole lot of starlings. Was disappointed to see that my crabapple trees didn't bear fruit this year.

Wednesday, 27 October - Medford, MA

Visited another part of the Mystic. Paul was hoping to see the mergansers, but I think it was a bit too hot out for their liking.

Thursday, 28 October - Revere, MA

Large quantities of three types of gulls (black-backed, herring, ring-billed)
Two large trans-Atlantic migratory types (Think both were Airbus types? That's the Frenchie's department, not mine. One was an Alitalia bird, the other was British Airways.)

Great Meadows.

This is becoming the default walk when we're slightly west of here and exercise time is limited. Like with the Mystic Preserve and the reservoir over near Alewife, it's always worth it to visit often, all year round.

Now's the time for greater contrasts and longer shadows due to the obliqueness of the sun's rays.



Local vegetation, already going out in a blaze of glory, seems further warmed by that gold light that one only sees this time of year.*



Saw a few birds: some coots, mallards and Canadas on the water. A crow, some swallows and (it was hard to tell) either yellow warblers or goldfinches with winter coloring in flight. We heard a downy woodpecker laughing at a joke that was clearly offending a mallard somewhere. Also, an odd call from what I thought to be a nuthatch**. Oh, saw a heron in the distance as well as some marsh wrens scritching around in the reeds.



Funny, but whenever I see a pair of geese in flight, I can't help but think of this poem.

***

* Here, it's gold in the Fall. Winter and Spring are pastels. Summer's primaries.

** Pavel said that it was too high pitched. Pitch aside, I think that it was the right cadence for a nuthatch.

Pavel tells me that the hamburglers are out again by the Mystic. He heard the high-pitched calling, approached a blueberry bush and scared a half dozen or so out.

Hooray!

Afternoon Feeding.



A male housefinch feeding a baby. It's a pity my camera doesn't have sound; the babies' squeaks are so incredibly high-pitched and loud that, really, only hearing is believing. Also, note the little one flapping just one wing: it knows full well how to feed itself, but if it can scam a free meal, it will.

Too Hot.

End of May in New England, the temperature should not be in the 90s!

Poor cats are dealing as well as they can:



Le Pauvre Trouble.



Langour.

Even noted that the fledglings are doing an awful lot of mouth-breathing. Do they not have sweat glands either? We put some ice cubes in the bird bath in the hopes that that would help some.

Weather breaks by the end of the week (hopefully!).

Tentative Takeoff.



The first sparrow fledgling of the season paid a visit to the yew yesterday. This morning, we saw at least three perched on branches taking in data and begging. Early evening, one little dope flew smack into the kitchen window, bounced off and managed to gain a foothold on one of the dead branches. Shook the kinks out of its head, then immediately started flapping its wings and begging from a house finch.

Harbinger of Spring:

We've had a ton of Goldfinches and House Finches out back for the past month-or-so that I've been back; is interesting in that they weren't around last year, or anything.

Have become kind of ordinary, these little ones:



Goldies flocking on the feeders last week. Get a load of that particularly Gold bee-hind on the top level!

Have to say that I'm surprised with how accustomed to the bright flashes of primary colors have become; sometimes even find myself looking beyond the birds to other things. Still, changes in the routine do surprise. The other day, observed something subtle, lovely, totally Springlike: a male Red Head tenderly passing a sunflower seed to a brown headed, stripy-breasted girlfriend. (sigh.) Spring is *almost* here.

Finch Brunch.

This morning, we counted six goldfinches (three males - I think, three females) and four house finches (two males, two females) on the seed feeders. Mealtime was civil save for a bit of a dogfight between two of the male goldfinches.

The sparrows kept their distance for a while.

Pavel was so pleased, as he'd feared not seeing any goldfinches at all this year.

-Wouldn't it be nice, he asked, if we'd just get a bluejay in for the color? He could come swooping in yelling "global warming! Global warming!" at everyone and the regular working class finches would continue eating and try to ignore him best as possible. Kind of like everyone else around here does.

(snort)

Did get our wish: a bluejay swooped in a bit after, but kept silent and to himself. Saw him grab himself a good bit of suet (takeout?) and settle down to eat on a fencepost on the other side of the yard.

Good things.

Okay, there were a few. Had one life line which turned into a major accomplishment: school and finishing a degree. If it had not been for the routine of getting up, getting into school, thinking about something other than what was going on in my life, then going home to prepare for the next classes, I would have fallen apart far more spectacularly than I did. I also found a new love in all this.

With the new framework provided by the History courses (all but cleared out the local community college's catalog), I've been going back to what I'd studied and loved in a past life. How much richer is Stendhal with a better knowledge of the conflicts between Jansenists and Jesuits; between the liberals of the time and absolutists; between the nobles, the bourgeoisie and peasant classes. I don't claim to get *all* his jokes; what I do see is that I'm starting to develop a crush on the protagonist of the story, Julien Sorel. He reminds me an awful lot of me: hyper intelligent but immature, emotionally confused and stunted from a childhood of abuse. Not handsome in a standard way, though striking. All I can hope for is to not come to the same end as he did. (So far, so good.)

I can't talk about school without mentioning at least in passing birds. Again, they've provided respite and comfort when I couldn't see through the gray cloud that envelops me sometimes. I'd taken up sitting in the kitchen to do my reading and writing; it was the warmest and brightest room in the house at the time (we've since fixed up the dining room - oh, the light we have there in the mornings now!), plus there was a decent surface for me to spread out my books, papers, computer. Noted that Tony was spending an awful lot of time at my side - found that he was actually not there for my company, but rather to watch the birds and the squirrels in the yew right out the window. A cheap feeder and suet cage scaled up to a thistle sock, a squirrel-proof seed feeder and a couple cages (not to mention a birdbath and a house that Pavel made himself). We now buy seed in 50 lb bags and suet cakes in quantity. There are several different editions of the Petersen guide floating around for quick reference if one of us sees anyone new. I am always amazed at what incredible things I find if I just take a few moments out to be quiet, to be still, to observe.

Thanks to Ravelry, my knitting's through the roof. Though am on Facebook and look at Twitter from time to time, to be honest, I'm not sure if I care for either so much. Ravelry isn't a social networking site per se, more of an online Alexandria for needleworkers. There's an awful lot of nice people there, though. Some, too, that I'd not mind meeting in person (and this is saying a lot, as I generally don't care much for people). Three cheers to the folks who created it and maintain it! It's an incredible resource.

Though I've yet to get myself back into good, strenuous exercise like I used to do, have managed to get a control on the eating. Since about May of last year, have managed to take off roughly 20 lbs. This has helped the knee and ankles considerably, not to mention energy (most of the weight loss has been thanks to South Beach - the closest thing, it seems, to the old Weight Watchers plan I remember from 20 years ago that I lost something like 60 lbs with - always felt good on that, too). I still have a bit to go, but if I just stick to it and get back either into swimming or running (don't know if the latter is possible), I'm sure I'll get to where I want to be.

So, not all has been bad. Thank heavens for that.

Cash is out, stocks are out. Commodities are in.



Black Gold.

***

Mentioned to Pavel that this looked like some sort of remake of a scene from Stroheim's Greed. He was all like, "been thinking that all day, myself." Cosmic.

At least, that's what Pavel's telling me (and he ought to know).

Actually, Job Lots had a sale on sunflower seed a couple weeks ago: $19 for a 50 lb bag. Loaded up as much of it as poor Speed Racer could handle (five bags) and ground home. Found that, since Trouble has a territory marking problem, we'd need something more sturdy than paper bags to hold the stuff. Cheap trash bins from Home Depot seem to have done the trick.

At the rate we use this stuff, 250 lbs should last until the end of February.

Pattern Recognition III



House Sparrow mating dance.



Pavel's impression of the House Sparrow mating dance. The hand striking out from the left is my impression of what an uninterested girl sparrow will do to get rid of the unwanted suitor.

Two reasons why Pavel's line would die out if he were a male house sparrow:

1.) He's doing the dance during the wrong season.
2.) He's not persevering enough. I didn't even touch him. Have seen girl sparrows peck the bejeezus out of the males they weren't interested in.

Better luck next year. Or with a different species, perhaps.

In flux.

Took a wander out to Great Meadows today. Decided to leave the camera home for a change so as to really get a good look at things. Noted that the swamps had been drained and some of the greenery had been cleared away. In others areas, it was left to grow beyond what I'd ever seen before.

As always, the area was teeming with birds and other animals. This time around, though, their activity seem almost frenzied. Noted more snowy egrets than we'd ever seen there in all our visits. Saw and heard at least two blue herons. Ducks and geese could be seen in the reeds, nurturing what seemed the last broods before migration. In the newly-drained areas, we could see (and hear) what looked like common snipe chicks and possibly some yellow-legs. Also heard marsh wrens and (I'm pretty sure) the cries of fish hawks, both young and mature.

The main causeway was nearly covered with at least three different types of frogs. Caught one slow one and gave it to Pavel to hold for a while. Marveled at sunfish leaping out of the water to catch gnats.

Oh, and the plant life: tasted some wild grapes. Wished I could get close enough to sample a lotus pod. Were amazed to find what looked like a couple different types of dogwood (?). Decided that maybe, just maybe, a bouquet of loose strife (bad, bad loose strife) and goldenrod might not be such a bad thing. Over all, the setting sun was gradually changing the variegated sky from different shades of gunmetal to golds, purples and pinks, all while drenching the rest of the landscape with gold.

Chatted for a bit with one man on his evening constitutional. He'd noted the draining of the swamps and the decision to cut some areas while leaving others overgrown; was perplexed a bit by this. I mentioned that, though there was always a lot of bird activity, this seemed like the richest I'd ever seen things. Pondered on the politics of managing the wetlands area.

At that point, the sun's rays shifted, both changing the colors of the cloud kaleidoscope above and highlighting a (until that point unnoticed) band of early-changing sugar maples.

"We're in flux," he said. "The seasons are changing and this is a wild time for everyone. It's all happening so fast."

Airplane Knitting.



Storks nests aren't covered in Audubon's survey. Figured the lace pattern inspired by their nests looked good against the book cover art anyway. The scarf's being worked in Green Mountain Spinnery's Sylvan Spirit, color Antique Brass.

When I fly, I generally plan for little if any human interaction. There's so much technology available on planes nowadays for shutting one's neighbor's out. (Doesn't help matters that am pretty painfully shy; shy to the point of looking rude.)

For the last trip, packed two sink-one's-teeth-into lace patterns and a couple of books I've really been savoring lately. Didn't make much headway into anything, as both flights were filled with much more social interaction than I'd have expected.

Was a bit surprised to see a familiar face in the security line at Logan: turned out that an old friend from school was heading out to wherever his company outsources their manoeuvre to nowadays. Since it was a jam-packed 747, about the only place we could go to catch up on things was in one of the emergency exit doorways in front of a toilet. Somehow we managed during our chat to not annoy anyone too much (I hope) and to not get cricks in our backs from standing hunched over for as long as we did.

Returned to my seat to the gentleman next to me rousing from a nap. "You're getting home late. Where were you all this time, Young Lady?" Told him that I ran into someone I'd not seen in like 15 years. He expressed (complimentary) surprise that I'd be old enough to know someone for that length of time. His wife, the graceful, egret-looking French lady next to him, laughed.

Over the course of the rest of the flight, learned an awful lot about them: where they worked, where they lived. How they met,* why they chose Boston for settling down, why they went back to France every year, etc. The lady seemed fascinated with what I was knitting, so showed her the pattern and talked about the yarn I was using, which came from a mill in Vermont. (Later learned that she had more than just a passing interest in Rudolf Steiner's educational theory; knitting's a major component of the curriculum.)

Of course, given that this was an Air France flight, we talked about the two downed planes earlier in the Summer. That led to talk about 9/11: they'd actually flown one of the first AA flights out of Logan after the attacks; said that it was a strange, but generally positive (and surprisingly spiritual) experience. Talked about air rage**, fears of stuff falling from the sky, our worries about the world in general. The news was just coming out about one of the Lockerbie bombers being freed soon, something no one was happy about.

Made it to our destination early, though had a fair wait in immigration due to something like six other planes arriving from different parts of Africa. Got to introduce my new friends to the Frenchie, who offered them a ride to their hotel. Turned out that they were going in exactly the opposite direction from us, so said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.

***

* The Frenchie, who's a 68er himself in spite of his denials, told me that how they met is a classic scenario for that generation.

** Over the past six flights, have seen three particularly pointed incidents, all with European males losing their tempers. The Frenchie tells me that American airlines have a bad reputation in the French papers for their tough approach to these situations. I don't like to make sweeping generalizations on these sorts of things, but am not so sure that cause-and-effect or an understanding that the world outside one's day-to-day might be different from what one is accustomed to are particularly valued/nurtured in this part of the world.

Cambridgeport.

On leaving the doctor's office this afternoon, decided to turn in the opposite direction, partly for the sake of adventure, partly to lay up a stock of vitamin D for the upcoming days.



Always loved this sign; am glad that it didn't get torn down as was threatened some time ago. Does it still light up?



Orange Milkweed! The stuff that grows in my yard is a much more staid shade of mauve.



Okay, I'll bite: what the heck is "Educational Fairness?"



His Latin name is Mimus polyglottus, and what a polyglottal mime he was! We heard his impression of a robin, a titmouse, a cardinal, a couple bluejay calls, a catbird, a gull, a red winged blackbird and a flicker. (Those where the calls we could identify, anyway.)



Trash Day tomorrow (Somerville): Found Pavel standing over it, musing. "You know who'd really like this." "Do you want to carry it? If you'd like, I'll carry your groceries. Won't touch that. Oh, and you can't bring it into the house. Has bedbugs or fleas or God knows what written all over it." "Oh, I don't want to touch it. Why don't you just take a picture of it?"

The male cardinal has been coming out to sing his song to his lady lately. Seems always to happen at sunset.

Tonight, in spite of the miserable mist-rain, he sang for a full 20 minutes. Dragged my tired bones out to the porch to lose myself in it and perhaps find him. Didn't see him, though he was very close by.

Can you spot the hamburgler?

To change the subject somewhat:

Would really like to attract hummingbirds. Is this possible in Somerville? We bought a nectar feeder along with some red-dyed juice and two hanging pots of bright red blooms (geraniums and impatiens). I'm thinking of getting a butterfly bush if I can find a place to fit it, along with lots of petunias. Am growing sweet peas, morning glories and nasturtiums, as well. In any event, this all is going to look great by July or August. Just don't know if I should get my hopes up regarding the visitors I'm trying trying to entice.

Is amazing how such small animals can make such a racket. Normally, there's just the general cheerful chirping that goes on from about sunrise to sunset. From the inside, it's a nice background noise. When we're outside, sometimes we can hardly hear ourselves talking over it.

A couple times a day, there'll be a dispute over territory or food that leads to feathers flying and a general uproar in the yew. The best equivalents I can think of are a crowd of middle school aged kids chanting "fight!" around a couple of usually boys but sometimes girls intent on killing each other in an echo-y hallway or maybe the collective booing in the cafeteria after someone drops a tray*.

What's really notable, though, is the stillness and utter silence that overtakes the flock after some sort of warning call. We witness this maybe once a day and it even puts our hair on end.

***

* Yes, I was educated by wolves.