Yes, this sentence is a twist from the usual phrase “Don’t forget to stop and smell the roses” and a worthy reminder from Walter Hagen. In the two months since I visited the Ford Estate, the Lilacs are long gone and the roses in the massive Rose Garden, which once boasted 10,000 rosebushes, likely have their sweet scent diminished by the shroud of smoke from the 500 active Canadian wildfires.
It has been incredible to listen to weather reports stating that at times here in Southeast Michigan we were rated second in not only the nation, but the world, for poor air quality, so much so that even healthy residents were encouraged to don an N95 mask before going outside.
This trek on that lovely Spring day encompassed three venues: a path with woodsy vibes along the Rouge Gateway Trail, then off to meander around Henry and Clara Ford’s Estate and finally my first visit to the University of Michigan’s Environmental Interpretive Center, only to retrace my steps to head back to the car. I logged six miles and took a slew of photos that day. I’ve already written about the Environmental Interpretive Center and next week I’ll focus on the Ford Estate, but today ….
It is all about the Lilacs.
The primary reason for going to the Ford Estate was because I knew it was “peak week” for the lovely Lilacs. Clara Ford (Henry’s wife) had a huge Lilac garden and flagstone walkway. I spoke to a gardener who told me the Lilacs had their best blooming year since 2018, seemingly having overcome the disease called “Oystershell Scale” which, in 2020, nearly decimated 38 of the 150 Persian Lilac Bushes.
I entered the courtyard …
… and Lilacs lined the perimeter from the Tea House to the Fords’ residence where a Potentilla had burst into bright-yellow blooms.
Standing in the courtyard and walking along the flagstone path, the sight was exquisite and the scent was heavenly. Lilacs were cascading down …
… protruding around corners and …
… forming lovely arches along that fragrant flagstone path.
You may recall from prior posts that the lovely wrought-iron gate that graces the courtyard area was a gift from Henry Ford to his beloved Clara, after a 1930 visit to England whereby Clara admired the gate and asked Henry if he thought that estate’s owner would sell it to them for her garden. Henry said it was unlikely they would part with it, so Clara forgot about it, until two weeks later when they returned from their trip abroad, only to see that very same gate rising majestically parallel to her courtyard garden. Almost a century later, it is still a showpiece.
This year I contacted the administrator of the Ford Estate’s Facebook page to pinpoint when the peak blooming time would be since I was too early last time and missed a lot of the beauty.
I was alone in the Lilac gardens for a while until a group of young people showed up, all volunteers who were there to pull weeds, while this observer stood like a lady of leisure languishing among the showy blooms.
This Spring I missed seeing and smelling my Lilac tree and Miss Kim Lilac bush, lost in the downed wire fire on December 2, 2022 which burned my back garden and I lost everything. The Lilac tree was planted in the late 1960s and the rest of the garden I planted when I redid the landscaping in 1985. While I was sad to see my garden reduced to charred mulch and burned trees and bushes, I remain grateful that the downed wire and resulting large fire, a mere 25 feet from where I slept, did not damage my home and I was safe as well.
Next week, a hop, step and jump, er … jaunt through the rest of the Ford Estate which was aglow with Redbud trees and Spring flowers. I was excited to explore a new area of this massive properly I’d never known about!
Until then, I hope you enjoyed this peaceful post. Wouldn’t you like to while away an afternoon reading on this bench?
I hope you, like me, enjoy the quote from the July nature calendar – the locale is the Dolomites Mountains in northeastern Italy.
Although I cannot state that I have witnessed a thousand miracles in nature, I will say that this Spring I must have witnessed a thousand geese and goslings, so I hope you are not “goslinged out” yet because there will be a few more. In fact, this sentence will segue into my first family photo.
Cheaper by the Dozen.
Well, May 14th was Mother’s Day, so it was appropriate that I should step out of my car and see a family of Canada Geese with a dozen goslings surrounding them. I hustled over to take photos, despite knowing that the camera card was jam-packed with umpteen gosling shots already. [Of course there would be more geese and their offspring before I put the camera away and hopped back into the car to drive home.]
I changed things up a bit.
I usually begin my walks on the other side of Lake Erie Metropark, with a visit with Luc, but given the dredging and heavy machinery mess from April, I planned to walk the three-mile shoreline along Cove Point instead. It was a chilly, grayish day and very windy.
But first, I headed around the bend to the path that takes me to the wooden overlook that crosses one of many marshes at this park.
Sometimes there are people fishing off that walkway/deck but that day I had the overlook to myself. The marsh area is where the Barn Swallows hang out and I hoped to get some photos of them swooping and diving or chattering away to each other, but … they must have been sleeping in or building nests beneath the overlook.
The marsh had not greened up and was still dull and lifeless looking.
Do you remember this tree with its unusual “design” which I learned from several of you was “beetle graffiti” – well it remains near the overlook and a regal-looking Red-winged Blackbird perched on top and posed just for me. (Ya, right – I was just lucky that he happened by and needed a perch.)
In the distance, this bedraggled-looking heron was standing knee-deep in the lagoon. Though I didn’t see it spear any fish, it was studying the water very intently.
A beautiful Mute Swan paddled by, a graceful touch of color, albeit white, in the lagoon.
I began my trek along Cove Point where by mid-July through August the American Water Lotuses will be at peak blooming time so I will return to capture that beauty.
This tree looks a little forlorn doesn’t it?
The picnic tables were in place but evidently Mom was dining in a restaurant and hopefully not cooking a meal on her special day. I actually saw no people on my entire 90-minute walk along Cove Point.
The trees along Cove Point had already leafed out and the grass was green, so it was a little more colorful here. The wooden walkway/overlook you see in the background of the second photo was where I just left.
These Canada Geese were relaxing and seemingly unmindful of my presence. (Or maybe they just chose to ignore me.)
I doubled back onto that path, then peered into this waterlogged gulley for Spring Peepers, but had no luck today.
Perhaps the Peepers, like the Swallows, were visiting their moms today?
The Trenton Channel Power Plant and its smokestacks, a/k/a the “Trenton Stacks” continue to mar the view of any of my roams along the Detroit River and Lake Erie. The phasing out of this coal-burning plant began in the Summer of 2022 and by the end of last year, the coal reserves were finally depleted. The power plant and its striped stacks will remain for now as no plans have been made for the land.
The waves were very choppy, not from the wake of any freighters or pleasure boats, but simply from the wind. These were my favorite shots of those big waves. …
I got a kick out of two Mallards surfing the waves like pros, despite getting submerged a couple of times.
I arrived at the Marina and … you guessed it … there were more geese.
Birds behaving badly.
These geese and their offspring were having a sit-down across from the Marina until I encroached on their space. Soon Papa Goose was herding his offspring over to the marsh and lagoon, with Mama Goose bringing up the rear. They left in such a hurry, at one point Papa Goose turned around to count beaks. One gosling glared at me, clearly miffed I had interrupted its nap.
They paddled away so quickly that soon they were just a blur behind this fallen tree in the lagoon. Really? I was sorry I had that effect on them!
While I was gawking at the geese, a Robin was singing away. When I looked up at my cheery feathered friend, it gave me a side-eye glare as if to say “so now that the geese are gone, I am good enough to photograph?” and quickly gave me the cold shoulder.
A pair of miserable-looking Mallards didn’t give off any friendly vibes to me … or to each other, for that matter.
Likewise, an egret took to the skies. I vowed not to take this bad bird behavior personally.
At the Marina I searched for some unusual boat names, but found none. The sailboats were lined up in rows awaiting their owners and an afternoon trip on Lake Erie, but it was not to be.
I turned around and headed back to the car. As I drove out of Lake Erie Metropark, I thought I glimpsed a pair of Sandhill Cranes. So perhaps the trio of Sandhill Cranes I saw last year were not an anomaly after all. I parked the car at the offshore fishing lot and hurried toward them. There was a large field that separated the Cranes from me, a field growing wild with untamed grass and tangled brush. I did not want to risk returning with ticks, so I captured the pair from afar. Those photos will be in this week’s Wordless Wednesday post because this is already so picture-laden.
I promised myself I would return next month and I did, on Father’s Day this time. I had a wonderful encounter with a deer and saw an Osprey and its nest, some egrets and a new bird, one from my Birdie Bucket List! I did not see the latter in real time, but only saw it on the screen and I did a double-take. Those will be Monday/Wednesday posts the first week of August, so please stay tuned.
… I embraced the warmish morning that finally felt like Spring.
While driving to Elizabeth Park, in between sound bites of the ongoing UK Coronation festivities and sports reports about the projected winner of the Kentucky Derby later that day, the WWJ news anchor gave a resounding “woo-hoo” after the weatherman said the temperature had finally reached 50 degrees. Clearly I was overdressed, but I needed my coat as it had pockets for my keys and camera since lazy me had not yet dug out my fanny pack from wherever I stored it after migrating to coat-wearing back in October.
It was mid-morning and already my second venue on May 6th, having stopped at Council Point Park first to feed my furry and feathered friends, then take a slew of gosling shots to use for my virtual March of Dimes 5K (and indeed walk the equivalent of a 5K/3.2 miles for that event).
I picked a parking spot and glimpsed the Detroit River past the big bridge …
… but also admired the small bridge that spanned the Canal, as the sun’s rays were casting some gorgeous reflections on the water. You will recall from last week’s post, that a portion of today’s mission at this beautiful island park was to collect Canada Geese family photos to use in my Father’s Day post.
It ended up being a prolific day of photos for me, so I was glad I had packed my extra camera battery, though surprisingly I never needed it, despite taking tons of shots. By the time I returned to the car, although I had intended to head to Humbug Marsh to visit with the plein air painting group, as the saying goes “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak” which described me to a “T” as I plopped down onto the car seat and cranked up the AC.
Before I began capturing those sweet shots that were the subject of my prior post, a pair of geese sipping water greeted me as I began my trek …
The Canal has a lot of dead and misshapen trees, some bent over so their branches tickle the water. I mused to myself that this tree seemed to make a statement, perhaps directed to Mother Nature who had pelted us with five straight days of rain, only to make us endure three weeks with no rain in late May/early June.
And this gnarly looking tree always reminds me of the old Timex commercial “takes a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’” … it appears to be dead, yet its root area is green, while the rest of the tree has fallen across the Canal.
There were pools of water where there shouldn’t be, i.e. across the pathway and filling up the grassy areas – I figured portions of my trek might be a sogfest.
After spending an hour photographing the family of geese, I saw a flash of color in a still somewhat-drab landscape. It was a Red-winged Blackbird that gave me a sneer as it sat there, puffed up with importance, displaying those red and yellow epaulets, like a military guardian of the gate as I neared the big bridge.
Enroute to the Boardwalk I had hoped some of the Willow trees had leafed out to get a shot of them and was happy to see they had. That is the header image of this post. Happily, there was a bonus for me as I glanced over to this tiny island that is usually laden with ducks. I searched the shoreline for ducks, but since I saw none, I suspected many were sitting on nests hidden in the marsh or along the Canal with their mates hovering nearby. The bonus for me was seeing a Mama and Papa Goose with tiny goslings clustered together …
I took this photo of the goslings. Unfortunately, they are not really clear as I was across the Canal from this small island.
I was so fixated on this latest family, I almost missed this kayaker with pedal power who was going pretty quickly.
Following him was his pal whom he was trying to have a conversation with (unsuccessfully).
There were other fisherman out on boats or standing along the Boardwalk. I looked for my groundhog friend and had no sweets, just a small bag of Goldfish crackers for him … he wasn’t around, so I ate them. The beautiful Oak trees still had not leafed out, so the Boardwalk was not as beautiful as usual.
“Mind the gap” is an expression used when boarding a subway car and that was my mindset as I noticed the boardwalk railing was either missing a rail or had this odd gap …
… which was dangerous as lots of little kids roam along the Boardwalk. Dogs must be leashed, but kids run up and down the Boardwalk all the time. I saw something in the distance on the railing – some new kind of shore bird? With the sun glinting off the River and my dark glasses, I wasn’t sure. I got closer and speaking of kids, it was a kid’s Keds that had led me over there in a hurry. Yes, good thing I have an upcoming eye doctor appointment. 🙂
Around the bend, fisherpersons baited hooks and cast out …
… and it appeared someone’s bored kid was “having some fun on the Boardwalk” with chalk.
I passed umpteen soccer games in progress and still another tree in this park’s collection of trees that have seen better days.
I still had about a half mile to reach the car and it was getting mighty warm. This scooter is one of many that the City of Trenton provides for people to roll around their city.
The park always has a few no matter where you wander.
They all looked inviting, except I’d likely break my neck riding one, unlike this young man who whizzed by me.
There were Spring Beauties wildflowers under all the trees, perhaps the inspiration for the aforementioned chalk art?
I watched a car stop, the window was rolled down and a hand snaked out and tossed several handfuls of peanuts toward a mound of rocks. I had to smile as this would be the same scenario as me, obviously a regular stopping/feeding point and squirrels and birds came in rapid succession. The driver left having seen his benefactors race over. I was left with the opportunity to get a few squirrel and bird pics, including a White-breasted Nuthatch and Blue Jay. A few squirrels will be featured on this week’s Wordless Wednesday post.
There were goslings galore this Spring of 2023. I admit I was shutter happy and you’ll see some today, next week as I continue my roam along the River and finally, there will be a post from when I mixed, mingled and photographed the Council Point Park goslings for my virtual March of Dimes 5K Walk.
Today’s post is about a walk taken May 6th at beautiful Elizabeth Park. Many of my prior posts at this venue include geese – lots of geese. In fact, I can’t even estimate how many Canada Geese live at this 162-acre island park and then the annual baby boom occurs when the goslings arrive, thus multiplying the geese population even more.
The goslings who toddled after their parents in these photos are grown up now. They have lost their lemon-yellow baby fuzz and sweet faces. But, even though the goslings may stand shoulder to shoulder with their parents, if someone were to step too close to any of them, the gander a/k/a Papa, would intercept, flap his wings and hiss with that pink tongue, so you best be “gettin’ out of Dodge” pronto or risk an attack by him.
Yes, the gander’s histrionics would be akin to how a human father protects his offspring, no matter how old they are.
On a quest for Dad and babies shots.
I didn’t have to look too hard to find the first family.
I stepped out of the car and peered into the distance at one of the two smaller bridges that cross the canal. I aimed to go there to hopefully get some shots of goslings from above.
Because we had had a lot of rain the prior five days, I suspected the canal likely had flooded its banks and the walking path would be saturated in some places. I was not eager to get wet feet, despite having an extra pair of shoes in the trunk of the car for mud and/or goose poop issues.
I was delighted to see this family up close. The light was perfect … not too sunny, not too gray, so I decided to focus on these geese for my Father’s Day post.
Unlike most birds, where it is easy to distinguish between male and female, Canada Geese look the same at a glance. The males are generally larger and more aggressive and territorial in their behavior. They are pretty vocal as well. Female Canada Geese are docile and have high-pitched voices. I admit I can’t tell them apart, unless the male is hyped up about something.
Through the years on my nature walks, I’ve had plenty of time to study geese. I give them wide berth at Council Point Park, especially when they have their goslings in tow. Once the goslings arrive, they may gather together to graze or paddle down the Creek, however, when it is time to leave, it is the male that escorts his family to or from the water, with the female bringing up the rear behind their goslings.
Having caught sight of me, Papa Goose guided his family away from the water’s edge and left with a flourish, neck outstretched, head raised to the sky and he let out a large honk.
And then they were on their way.
Hmm – was this a warning honk for me who stood about 15 feet away, camera ready to capture some photos, or, was it a warning honk to the goslings to beware of the looming human?
Well, I respected their privacy, backed off and walked along the soggy path parallel to the canal and I was still able to get some shots of the obedient goslings trailing behind in a neat queue. Mama Goose similarly was mindful of The Intruder.
In a cove-like area Papa Goose guided his goslings toward shore, but ultimately he would steer the family away, as if having second thoughts after the first gosling set its webbed feet onto land.
And off they went, headed toward the bridge and I pondered whether I should race ahead to the bridge, or just stay on the soggy path.
Perhaps Papa Goose worried the goslings were getting tired, or he decided the annoying lady with the camera pointed at his family truly meant no harm, so they approached the shoreline…
… and Papa stepped onto land and began to ascend the hill.
The goslings obediently headed up the hill following in their father’s footsteps and now gathered before him.
Then a little poking and prodding to get them to graze.
In this last shot, I think there was a final beak count to ensure all five goslings were present and accounted for – time to eat!!
I watched and clicked, fascinated as I always am. Lots of squeaks and peeps from these tiny goslings and they seemed to drip-dry in minutes and began to look for grass to graze on.
Finally, an hour later, I was on my way, where I saw another family to focus on as I roamed along the Detroit River, Elizabeth Drive and the canal, but I’ll share those cutie pies in next week’s post.
In the final paragraph of my May 22nd post “Learning on my Terms” I teased about discovering a Cardinal’s nest in my barberry bush. For several years I have had a pair of Cardinals bopping around the backyard. Here are some photos of the female taken one Winter.
Since they were visiting more often lately, I offered a few peanuts on the sidewalk, then put a handful of sunflower seeds down. But that seed-dispensing generosity came to a rapid halt after I returned from walking to find a couple of mice contentedly nibbling on those seeds way too close to the door – a mouse in the house would freak me out!
This post is somewhat long; first will be a backstory, followed by the Diaries and pics.
I have had a lifelong affinity for domestic and wild birds.
Growing up and as an adult, parakeets and canaries were much-loved members of my family. And who doesn’t enjoy the cheery warble of a songbird, no matter the season? As much disdain as I have for Robins building their mud-packed nests in the crook of my porch coach light, then retaliating with huge splats on the front door and siding when I remove said nest, I love to hear a Robin’s cheery birdsong.
I fed and watered the backyard birds in all seasons for many years, usually just filling the feeders or birdbaths before dashing off to catch the bus for my job in Downtown Detroit. When I suddenly became “Yard Master” er … “Yard Mistress” in 1984 after my father’s abrupt departure, suddenly I was logging many outside hours, especially in Summer.
In 1985 I ripped out about 90% of my father’s landscaping efforts, most which had become grossly overgrown and created a more natural habitat, including a large butterfly garden. During this yard revitalization period, I had a backyard bird following of feathered friends who perched on the fence each morning while awaiting fresh seeds at the bird feeder and clean water as I hand-watered the garden before leaving for work.
During this time period, I befriended a female Cardinal and knew it wasn’t just my imagination that she would sit on the fence and sweetly tweet at me while I worked. I always whistled back at the songbirds and tried to keep up with them whistle for whistle, note for note.
Well Mrs. Cardinal filled my heart with joy and I treated her extra-special, i.e. I would place some peanuts on a partially hidden flat rock. It only took me a few times to point to her, then to the peanuts on the rock for her to see that treat. Her mate always waited in the tree or perched on the fence allowing her to partake in the peanuts first.
My mom, also a feathered-friend devotee, was just as delighted as me to see what we assumed to be a mated pair and she often watched them from her back bedroom window. In an issue of the magazine Birds and Blooms we learned that safflower seeds were a special treat enjoyed by Cardinals and, believe it or not, are one of very few foods squirrels do not like. So I bought a five-pound bag of safflower seeds to see if our Cardinals would like them.
And so began an evening ritual that lasted from Spring through Fall for several years … BUT, with Mrs. Cardinal only.
When I returned home from work every night, as I walked up the sidewalk leading to the door, Mrs. Cardinal acknowledged my arrival by flying down to the patio floor. I would step inside the house, put down my tote bag and emerge with a small Dixie cup of safflower seeds which I’d pour on the cement, then go into the house for dinner. You could set a clock to my arrival time and, obviously Mrs. Cardinal did not wear a watch, but there she was. Suffice it to say, we never disappointed one another. I stuck to that timetable on weekends and holidays if possible.
Sadly, that delightful routine was broken, likely after West Nile virus affected our area. My mom and I spent a long weekend in Toronto visiting my grandmother and when we returned home, I immediately went into the backyard to feed my feathered and furry friends and fill the four birdbaths. I was horrified to find about a dozen Blue Jay bodies in my backyard. As West Nile virus was ravaging Southeast Michigan, the Department of Natural Resources (“DNR”) had directed residents to notify them of any dead birds, even one bird, unless the bird evidently met its fate, having been mauled by a predator. The DNR picked up the bird bodies the following day and contacted us to say that all the Jays had West Nile virus and we should immediately discontinue watering and feeding the birds until the following year ONLY if the virus had abated. Sadly, I washed out the birdbaths and stored them in the garage. I never saw Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal again and assumed they also perished from the West Nile virus, thankfully not in my yard, where I would see them.
But, surely, not ALL my Cardinals’ extended family perished – they could have descendants, right?
Thank you for reading the backstory and now I give you The Cardinal Diaries.
The Cardinal Diaries 2023.
Wednesday, May 10th – I returned home from walking and as I came up the walk, a female Cardinal zoomed into the barberry bushes. Since I wasn’t near, I hadn’t spooked her, so I wondered if there was a nest. Later that day, I went outside and a male Cardinal flitted by. Sure enough, a rather flimsy nest, with a few leaves making up the bottom portion, was resting inside the prickly barberry bush.
I wondered aloud if they were descendants of my original Cardinal pair and could I recreate the magic in 2023?
Friday, May 12th – I took a vacation day as I wanted to visit the Ford Estate Lilac garden and the Environmental Interpretive Center. Before I left, I checked on Mama-to-be, Mrs. Cardinal who was sitting on the nest. I spoke softly to her, though she looked at me intently – I hoped she wasn’t scared.
That evening when I got online, I checked the incubation period for Cardinal eggs and learned it was 11-13 days. I also learned incubation does not begin until all the eggs are laid.
Saturday, May 13th – I thought of the realtor tagline “location, location, location” as Mama and Papa Cardinal likely thought this was a great spot to build a nest and nurture their hatchlings until fledging. It was chilly and Mama could not have been comfortable, nor warm. Here she was giving me “the tail” … guess she showed me.
Sunday, May 14th – It was Mother’s Day and I momentarily mused about the “Legend of the Cardinal” wherein a deceased loved one comes to visit you in the form of a beautiful red (male) Cardinal. Well, Mama Cardinal, who was looking a bit frowsy from embedding herself deep into that nest was the next best thing to perpetuating that myth, as Papa was nowhere to be found.
Monday, May 15th – We began an uncharacteristic cold snap, the coldest May in 115 years. A few evenings there were frost advisories. My “morning gawk” at Mama Cardinal found her hunkered deep down …
… in that flimsy nest protecting those eggs. I gave her words of encouragement before heading off on my walk.
Wednesday, May 17th – I began to suspect that the in-shell peanuts left on the patio, intended for the Cardinals …
… likely were ending up in the tummy of this nursing Mama Squirrel. Who would deny this little Mama a few peanuts? So I compromised and put out extra peanuts on the patio and out front.
Thursday, May 18th – After studying the habits of the Cardinals and noting Mama rarely left the nest, I ordered some safflower seeds, mealworms and two small hanging feeders to place in nearby bushes. They were delivered the next day, so I stopped by and informed Mama she had a new food source.
Saturday, March 20th – Because I wanted to take photos of the happenings at the nest and feeders, I waited until the weekend to fill the feeders.
These feeders had powder-coated perches, so a “fly-by” to eat on the run was not necessary – the Cardinals could perch and fill up on treats. I hung them strategically inside the barberry bushes and a Mock Orange which is looking a bit bare.
I returned from my walk anxious to see if the food was gone and found ants glommed onto the mealworms. I grumbled bigtime and dumped them in the street, rinsed out the dish at the outside tap and pondered my next move.
Sunday, May 21st – I Googled “how to serve mealworms and avoid ants?” Well I was supposed to rehydrate the mealworms before serving them. Really? Admittedly I didn’t read the package info and thought mealworms came “ready-to-eat” … who knew? I filled a disposable cup with mealworms and sloshed warm water over them. Ugh – it looked like some instant noodle dish. The mealworms were buoyant little fellas. I stirred and swirled them around until they were moist and juicy, then spooned them into the feeder, topped off the safflower seeds and left on my walk.
I returned to find ants crawling on the mealworms, so I dumped them again and was done with mealworms. I got a small ceramic custard dish and filled it with water and placed it in that feeder.
I decided Mama Cardinal was overdue hatching those babies. By my calculations, those beaks should be upturned, waiting for grubs to be dropped into their mouths. I hopped onto Google where I learned that Mama Cardinals often sit on the hatchlings when they are newly hatched and most vulnerable. So was she sitting on the babies to keep them warm? What a revelation!
Monday, May 22nd – The HVAC tech was here doing a wellness check on the A/C. In shepherding the tech to the backyard, I decided to show her Mama Cardinal sitting on the nest. Alana peeked in, then whipped out her phone, scrolled through some pics and showed me HER Mama Cardinal which was leucistic (all white) with her mate hanging out by Alana’s sunflower seed feeder. Nothing like trading Cardinal stories like two doting, if not dotty, aunts. 🙂
Tuesday, May 23rd – Our cold spell lingered with near freezing temps. If those chicks had hatched, I hoped Mama wouldn’t smother them trying to keep them warm.
Wednesday, May 24th – Patience was a virtue: I saw Mama Cardinal zoom out of the nest, so I zoomed into the house for the camera. She saw me near the nest and returned pronto. For all my efforts, I only got a few halfway decent photos of Mama feeding her babies. She was so embedded in the barberry bush that zooming in too much made it blurry. I saw just how big those babies were, so I was convinced they had hatched longer ago than originally thought.
Memorial Day weekend from May 27th through 29th – The Saturday of the long holiday was “Female Bird Day” so I was busy checking out Mama Cardinal while I spent two days doing yardwork, I squeezed in some “me time” too, on tiptoes, to scope out the nest. I’m sure I could have been in the house earlier both days rather than beating a path over to the barberry bush. Mama and Papa were hovering about. Mama’s tail was bobbing as she fed bug bits to her little ones. Every so often Papa did the same, gaining entry into the barberry bush, then dropping down to a branch near the nest. I got one photo of him, albeit far away.
Mama seemed to be the best hunter and gatherer of the two. She’s looking a bit frowsy here, having lost some of her feathers either scooting in and out of the prickly barberry bush, or slinking down in that nest, but on each expedition she returned with bugs; one was still wiggling. This picture below on the patio wrought iron railing was my favorite of the bunch.
The next day, I went for my morning gawk and walk and discovered the entire clan had flown the coop and not a moment too soon – the nest was literally in tatters. I’ve only gotten one photo of Mama since then …
… though they both watch me laying down peanuts and drop by for safflower seeds. I’ve not seen any of the youngsters. I’ve also got Chickadees interested in those safflower seeds, though I’ve yet to get a photo of one.
I’m disappointed I didn’t get better shots, but it was a fun learning experience. If the pair was undaunted by this wannabe paparazzo and return to nest again, hopefully I have better luck next time.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 