Cabin Fever

This endless winter seems to be finally nearing its end. We've had several beautiful almost-spring days in a row; even today, which was supposed to be drizzly, has been relatively pleasant.

At last, birds are singing in the morning, and the Mockingbird and his mate have apparently staked out their territory. I saw him sitting on a high wire pouring out his usual torrent of mixed-up birdsong, effortlessly moving from the Cardinal to the Robin's song, followed by a few scraps of other birds' songs that weren't quite recognizable. The Mockingbird is the only bird I know of in this area that actually sings in the middle of the night. I've often heard him at 1 or 2 a.m. during the breeding season.

Another morning when we were walking the dog we heard, far overhead, the sounds of Canada Geese honking. No, they weren't the usual non-migrating New Jersey geese just going from one office park to another. These were serious geese. There were two big long lines of them, high above, which gradually managed to come together and start forming the requisite V. They were clearly headed north and in it for the long haul.

The snow has all melted except for a few lumps here and there where the plows had piled it up; now it has changed into that crunchy icy stuff, flecked with black. (I always wonder where the black comes from. The road? The air? The snow itself?).

I've seen buds on one or two of the early shrubs and trees. We even managed to sit outside on our deck on a couple of afternoons when the temperatures hovered around 60 degrees.

But the grass is still brown and the trees are still bare and the next four days are supposed to be chilly and rainy. We are still stuck in the house. That is one form of "cabin fever" from which we are suffering.

The other form of cabin fever we have is that urge to get away from it all and go to our cabin in the Adirondacks. Unfortunately spring up there is 2-3 weeks behind New Jersey. I'm sure there is still plenty of snow on the ground and it will still be cold enough at night to freeze pipes for a few weeks yet, so we are still stuck in New Jersey for another month or so.

In the meantime, my days are filled with errands and visits to my mother in the nursing home, where she is still getting rehabilitation. It's amazing how the days fly by when they are all so similar.

Unfortunately, my mother seems to be developing dementia as time goes by. At first I thought it was due to her lung condition, but as it turns out her blood gas levels are all normal, so it isn't due to that. Interestingly, I just read an article about nicotine containing compounds that may actually be beneficial in preventing or mitigating Alzheimer's Disease. There are a number of recent studies that back up this possible connection, although of course it is far from a cure.

My mother, a lifelong smoker, smoked until she went into the hospital. She has now been nicotine-free for over a month and her congition has declined markedly. I realize it could be the result of her recent illness, stress, or hospitalization, but I am wondering if she would have done better if she'd had the nicotine patch as she did the last time she was hospitalized. I wish I had asked for it, in retrospect. Hindsight is always 20-20, as the saying goes.

I hope to talk to the doctor about her condition and see if Aricept or another drug might have the same beneficial effects without her having to go on the nicotine patch. Of course, I know that it may be too late to bring her back to the way she was, and I may need to accept that and just enjoy the time we have left together in whatever condition she may be in.

Thinking of the migrating birds, and my mother's long life, now closing in on its end, reminds me of the Sandy Denny song, "Who Knows Where the Time Goes." I first knew this song as it was sung by Judy Collins, and her bell-like voice is just unmatched by anyone. So I will post a video of her singing the song in concert in 2000.

Back From the North

Sorry I haven't been out and about in the Blog World this past weekend. We spent the weekend up in the Adirondacks visiting our cabin and dropping off a bunch of appliances we bought so the contractor can have them installed for us: a propane-run instant hot water heater, a propane wall heater, propane lights (they're like gaslights, and will likely be a good way to get light without needing electricity), and a shower apparatus to install in the bathroom.

When we first made our way up the gravel road to the cabin, we were surprised to find that a fairly large tree had fallen across the road - directly before the driveway to our property. So we had to cart all the heavy boxes up the side of the hill to reach the cabin instead of parking directly next to it! It wasn't until we'd gotten everything up there that we realized the obvious solution: We should have driven the Jeep up the hill. Sure enough, it went right up with no problem, even though it was a steep hill and had no gravel or anything to make it easier. We are still not thinking like Jeep owners, I guess!

Giggles over at Wits and Wiggles was talking about getting back in touch with her inner "nature girl" and I must say that I am feeling the same way whenever we go up to the Adirondacks. When I was young I was very into birdwatching and my mother was always showing me wildflowers in the woods. Living in semi-urban New Jersey for my whole adult life, it was harder and harder to find anything worth looking at. Now that I'm able to go to a location that is rich with wildlife, I'm getting back into what I enjoyed so much when I was younger.

This was another good visit in terms of seeing and hearing interesting wildlife. On our way up the main road, we saw an actual porcupine waddling along the side of the road! He looked up at us and started to head into the woods before I could get out my camera. He must have been somewhat alarmed by our presence because his quills started to rise on his back. Neither of us had ever seen a real porcupine before!

Then while we were sitting out on our deck having lunch we heard a strange call in the woods. It went on for quite awhile. We couldn't tell if it was an animal or a bird. After Googling "coyote calls" and "wolf howls" on the Blackberry I decided it was neither of those. When we got home I was able to do a more thorough search and found that the spooky sound was a Barred Owl. Go here to listen to what we heard. (Go to the Barred Owl and click on the link called "typical"). I was surprised because it was still daylight and I didn't realize owls were out during the day.

I also came across some great wildflowers - I saw a Jack in the Pulpit and also a whole bunch of Trillium. I even managed to take some pictures of it without them turning out all blurry. Here is one of them:

Here is another attempt at nature photography - the new ferns popping up among the leaves around the pond:

While I was walking along the roadway, I saw an Ovenbird, but didn't get a picture of that. I am amazed that anyone can manage to get great pictures of birds. It is a real skill. Of course, they probably have better cameras with very close-up lenses, unlike my point and shoot variety.

Speaking of Nature, we discovered that Something has been destroying trees around our cabin. Check this out:
This was a perfectly good tree. Now it has three huge holes in it. There are also several farther up in the tree on the other side. After seeing this, we noticed a bunch of other trees in the woods with similar damage, some done recently and some that was obviously from previous years. We can only conclude that it is caused by our friends, the impressive, beautiful, Pileated Woodpeckers, which I decided after Googling "Pileated Woodpecker Damage." (See below - note pile of wood chips like ours).

I was so thrilled to see them when we were up there last fall. Now I'm starting to think of them as a menace to the forest!

So much for Nature! Now I'll move on to our other adventures.

During this visit we also put the Jeep to another test. First we took it around to the other end of the Jeep trail that runs past our cabin again. Since we'd done it last time, I was feeling very brave. I even got out and took a picture of one of the somewhat challenging parts of the road. Here is the stretch of road, followed by the Jeep making its way up:

We then decided to do something even more daring. We turned down a side trail off of that road, and headed toward Lake George. We didn't even know whether it went all the way through. As we went along, it got less and less like a road and more and more like a bunch of rocks strewn along a narrow ledge; the hill sloped steeply away from the edge of the trail. At any moment I expected the trail to end abruptly with a bunch of trees and couldn't even imagine trying to back up! I also envisioned tumbling over the side of the cliff to my right if the Jeep tipped too much going over a rock.

I didn't get any pictures of this road. I was too busy holding on for dear life, closing my eyes and calling on the Diety to protect us. Even Diva was nervous - she was panting the whole time!

We did finally make it through to the road that goes along Lake George - and lived to tell the tale. And, the Jeep made it through with no problem! I guess that's what they're made for! I even made up a new motto for Jeep, based on the fact that the GPS map was showing no road where we were driving. "Just because the road ends doesn't mean you have to stop!"

I'll end with a few more pictures of the cabin and the surroundings. It was wonderful to be away from it all. We didn't even watch television while we were up there this time. However, we still got our newspapers and learned that Souter plans to retire from the Supreme Court. In the next post, it is Baxter's turn to do a news roundup so we'll get back into current events then.

Here is the cabin with its new green metal roof:

The new slate underneath the woodstove, and the new pine flooring that was installed. Now it just needs to be stained.

Birches reflecting in the pond.

Scenery along the Jeep trail.Views of Lake George.The little public beach on Lake George that is nearest to our cabin.

The Woodpecker

I started watching birds when I was just nine years old. We had moved out of suburban New Jersey to a more rural (although still suburban) area, outside of Rochester, New York, that year. The house, more modern than the one we'd left, had a huge picture window in the living room, framing a back yard that overlooked a creek and some woods. Unlike my native New Jersey, where the birds were pretty basic, this area had a lot of interesting birds, both native and migratory, and my mother placed a birdfeeder outside the back door where it could be viewed from the picture window.

We had always had a bird book around, and I started trying to identify the various birds we saw from the window. That first winter we had a whole flock of dull olive colored birds with black and white wings. We weren't sure what they were since there were so many drab little olive-colored birds in the book. Then, lo and behold, spring came, and some of the birds developed bright yellow feathers and saucy black caps! It turned out they were hardy little Goldfinches who wintered in our woods, and had shed their bright feathers for their winter garb.

My mother and I would go walking in the woods with our binoculars, and over the years made a lot of exciting discoveries, including various migrating warblers. Once we even saw a Rose-Breasted Grosbeak, singing in a tree. I'd always wanted to see one of those birds, and I recognized him at first from his song. I had a record back then called "Bird Songs in Your Garden," which familiarized me with a myriad of calls and songs of birds of all kinds, both common and uncommon. To this day I can still whistle a fairly credible imitation of the song of the Rose-Breasted Grosbeak.

Now that I'm back in New Jersey, we don't see a lot of "good" birds, but once in awhile something more unusual does stray into our yard. One time we saw several Golden-Fronted Woodpeckers sitting on our fence, which I'd never seen before - or since.

One woodpecker I'd always been fascinated with was the Pileated Woodpecker. It was pictured in my bird book right next to the extremely rare (until recently thought extinct) Ivory-Billed Woodpecker, and looked almost like it.

Neither of these species are ordinary woodpeckers. They are huge, larger than crows (in fact, the Ivory-Billed is so big and spectacular it is known as the "Lord God Bird" - because when people used to see it they'd exclaim, "Lord God, what was that?!").

Naturally the only woodpeckers I ever saw were the most common ones - the Downy Woodpecker and the Hairy Woodpecker.

These are two almost identical woodpeckers whose biggest difference is size. They should be called the "Lesser Speckly Black-and-White Woodpecker with a Red Patch on the Back of its Head" and the "Greater Speckly Black-and-White Woodpecker with a Red Patch on the Back of its Head."

Downy (left)

Hairy (right)








Well, this past weekend in the Adirondacks I finally saw a Pileated Woodpecker. We had been visiting our property (which we're closing on this Friday, finally!) and were just driving down the road after exiting the unpaved gravel road that leads to the cabin.

Suddenly, up ahead, I saw a huge black and white bird with white wing patches and a bright red head fly across the road. "Holy shit! Did you see that?!" I said to DH. (Does this mean this bird should be nicknamed "The Holy Shit Bird"?)

We saw the bird fly up into a tree as we went by, and there was no doubt about it. It was a Pileated Woodpecker.
(Picture courtesy of Whatbird.com)

We continued our drive down the road, and ultimately, home to New Jersey.

But all last week, throughout the financial chaos and all the negativity, every once in awhile my mind returned to that moment, the flap of the wings, the flash of black and white, the bright head, and I'd feel a quick burst of joy.

I'd forgotten the happiness that the mere sight of an unusual bird can provide, a feeling of gladness that I can hold close inside, like an ember, to keep me warm in the cold days ahead.

Biobigotry in my Back Yard

Yes, I admit it. I am a Bio Bigot when it comes to birds.

I became interested in birdwatching when I was about 9 years old and we moved to Penfield, New York, in the rural suburbs of Rochester, from Nutley, New Jersey. In our town of Penfield we lived at the edge of a cul-de-sac that bordered a stream (always called "The Creek") and a wooded area that led, after a mile or so of woods, into a park.

Because of the location, we were able to see many unsual birds. During the migratory season we had many different kinds of warblers passing through, as well as some full-time residents that were uncommon (such as Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks). My mother and I went on many birdwatching expeditions in the little woods with our binoculars, and I took to drawing and coloring in pictures of the birds. My mother put them in a booklet and submitted the drawings to an Audobon contest. I actually won a prize - a week at an Audubon day camp in the area!

Each spring was heralded by the arrival, not of Robins (they were actually latecomers in that northern area), but of the Redwinged Blackbird. These blackbirds arrived on schedule at around the beginning of March - perching at the top of our little maple tree and announcing their arrival with a joyous bubbly call. And the little Goldfinches, which did winter over up there, turned a neon yellow as the Spring arrived.

As a result of this experience, I got spoiled. We saw so many "good" birds up there, that I expected to continue the experience wherever I lived.

When DH and I moved into our house, we started feeding the birds. But being in a very urban area of suburbia, we don't get the "good" birds. We get city birds. Oh yes, we do have Cardinals, and they do count as "good." But they are relatively common as well. We have English Sparrows, a few Juncoes, Chickadees, Mockingbirds, some Nuthatches and an occasional common type of woodpecker. Oh, and Blue Jays. Once in a blue moon a "good" bird will pass through but it isn't usual.

As a result, I realize I have become a "biobigot." When a "good" bird does arrive in our yard, it is an Event. And if something happens to that bird, I am bereft.

My neighbor has cats - lots of cats. I am a huge cat lover so I don't usually worry about them wandering into our yard. But a few years ago, my whole family underwent the traumatic experience of seeing one of them grab a baby Cardinal. Of course it had to be a Cardinal, not a sparrow.

The father Cardinal was helping to teach the baby to fly, and the little one was flying all over our back yard while we sat out having a barbecue. All of a sudden, the baby bird lost its bearings and flew right into the back of our neighbor's garage and fell to the earth like a stone - RIGHT in front of a waiting cat that had been hiding in the bushes. It was like manna from heaven, as far as the cat was concerned. It immediately pounced, grabbed the bird and ran off, with the father Cardinal - and me - chasing it. Our efforts were to no avail. The father bird spent the rest of the day flitting around in the bushes calling desperately for the baby. It was so sad. But would we have been as sad if it was "just" an English Sparrow?

The reason I bring this up today, is that we have a Good Bird living in our yard; in fact, two of them. They are wrens, and they have taken up residence in an old bird house we had hung on my neighbor's garage years ago. No bird has ever bothered to use it - until now.

The other day I heard the sound of an unfamiliar bird song in our yard, and finally was able to see it through the binoculars and identified it as a wren, a common House Wren, to be sure, but still unusual for OUR yard. It was flitting in and out of the bird house. Then yesterday, after three days of singing, the wren apparently attracted a lady of his same subspecies! So there are now two of them.

But they not only sit up in the tree and sing, they also flutter around temptingly on the ground in the bushes. I don't know what they do there - catch bugs? Pick up twigs for the nest? - but it doesn't seem wise. All those cats are just waiting. Luckily we have a fence between the neighbor's yard and ours, but of course the birds don't realize the situation and could just as easily start flitting about in the neighbor's bushes.

So now I worry. Every day I get up and listen carefully to make sure I still hear that wren's song. If I don't hear it one day I will be neurotic and worry that the cats have had their way with the wrens.

It just doesn't pay to get emotionally invested in wildlife. I know this. But nevertheless, I worry.

If I just didn't care whether a bird was "good" or "ordinary," it wouldn't be as worrisome. But I can't help it, biobigot that I am!

(Here is a picture stolen from the Internet that shows a wren on top of a bird house very similar to ours:)