Fall's feathered friends

As summer flowers fade away, nature compensates. The garden, along with trees and feeders, is atwitter with more birds than we've seen in months. Some had traveled north for the summer (a  tradition shared by many Minnesota humans). Many who stay find their own food sources in summer. And for a time an aggressive house sparrow was patrolling "his" territory, chasing away any bird that ventured in. More about him later.

Anyway, we looked out one September day and began to notice feathered friends we hadn't seen for a while, and we were happy to welcome them back.

Mourning dove in hiding

* Mourning doves--five or six of them--gather here every day. They roost in the big horse chestnut tree, scavenge under the main feeder, and occasionally perch--one or two at a time--on the feeder itself. They seem too large to fit comfortably, yet there they sit.

* Goldfinches are back in large number, mostly showing their winter olive drab. On sunny afternoons a few bustle among the seedheads of the coneflowers outside my office window, and each day our finch feeder is busy.

* Woodpeckers, both downy and hairy, have returned to the feeders and at least one is busy tapping on metal drainpipes. I wonder whether they ever shake loose a tasty insect.

Nuthatch being gymnastic

* Nuthatches have reappeared; when they're gone we miss the graceful arc of their heads as they peer from their upside-down perch.

* Black-capped chickadees are announcing their return, though they should never have left. Our nesting box was intended for them, and last spring a pair seemed about to move in. That's when a house sparrow, as they are wont to do, chased them off and began nest-building with his female partner. We watched for days as they brought grass, string, and bits of paper (he repeatedly brought one too-large piece and she repeatedly tossed it out). Our attention to this soap opera (The Young and the Nestless, of course) was interrupted by a weekend away, and when we returned, things were quiet. Too quiet. Then at mid-day a handful of crows visited, nosing around the nesting box and being loudly reprimanded by one mad sparrow. We think they had come before and had gotten the female sparrow just before she laid her eggs. When we opened the box later to check, there was a clean, empty nest. That's why during much of the summer we had one male sparrow and virtually no chickadees.   

Cardinal pair last winter

* Cardinals, in the neighborhood all summer, brought wonderful surprises. We have seen several sets of fledglings in our yard, sometimes accompanied by an adult who seemed to be teaching them to find food. One day we watched as an adult and fledgling came together for a moment, beak to beak. "Awww," I said, touched by this moment of seeming tenderness. I immediately told myself not to anthropomorphize them, but when I saw it happen weeks later, with a different parent and fledgling, I said "Awww" again. 

Last week I heard the characteristic "tsk" that tells me an adult cardinal is nearby with its young. When I looked up from my desk, a bright red male was on the fence looking directly toward me, repeating its "tsk" as if to warn me away--or invite me to watch? Moments later 10 or 12 small brownish birds were sitting all along the fence. I wondered whether they were some kind of sparrow.

Young house sparrows

I grabbed the nearest camera and shot--through the screen, into harsh light and shadow, the camera refusing to auto-focus on the tiny figures and the good camera out of reach. More than a good photo, I needed an image I could enlarge in order to identify these birds. Twice they returned in smaller numbers, and I got this better photo. When I published this two days ago, I was looking at their beaks and thinking they were baby cardinals.

Then I realized there is no trace of a crest, so I edited the post to say they were probably finches. But the observant Willow has pointed out in a comment that they are, in fact, house sparrows. Which is ironic, because it was a house sparrow--maybe their dad?--that chased away other birds this summer. We know they are typically aggressive, and they aren't the neighbors we hope for. But they were here at least twice in the presence of adult cardinals, so maybe we really did have multiple families on hand.

In any event, I hope nature is bringing you a few pleasant surprises.

P.S. The day I saw these guys drinking water that had cycled through the planter I drained it and put out a separate pan of fresh water.

Pearly days

We are in the midst of at least two weeks of glorious weather in Saint Paul, Minnesota. Sunny, pleasantly warm, highs in the 70s and low 80s--a string of ideal late-September pearls. 

This is the kind of day that inspires hope for a long, mild, blazing-orange autumn. The kind of day that starts us planning a long drive in the countryside to admire the fall colors--which will be a little late this year, we're told. The kind of day that makes us think maybe this year we'll get the whole garden properly put to bed before the ground freezes. The kind of day that prompts me to make another batch of iced tea and to put off thoughts of making soup, or chili.

Things don't look spectacular--summer flowers are about gone, greenery is turning brown, fall colors, as I mentioned, will be late. But sunshine and warmth are everything. Sleeping with the windows wide open? Amazing. Sitting here at the computer with summer-like breezes wafting in? Totally seductive.

In fact, something about this better-than-seasonable weather has made me put aside most of my to-do list and just soak it in. We have picked up the kids after school a couple of times each week and sat at the playground while they run and climb and laugh, and each time we think, "This could be the last time they go barefoot this season." We sip iced tea in the garden and think, "This could be the end of tee-shirt weather."

So that's the other side of the conflict that takes place in the mind of a Minnesotan. Enjoy today, because tomorrow will be cold and horrible. Or maybe, just maybe, this lovely weather will last a while.

In any case I've been enjoying it, and my to-do list has come up a bit short. Which is my excuse for not posting in almost three weeks. Some people get spring fever; I think I have fall fever.

Oh, and my computer malfunctioned last week and had to be repaired. I just realized I can't post any pictures until I move my files around again. So I'm limited to words for a while.

I hope whatever season you're in is an enjoyable one.

Quack! Bawk! It's a kindergartener!

Last week, proud of climbing

Peter's cell phone quacked at about 7:15 this morning. That's his ringtone for calls from Abby, and as he reached for the phone I guessed, correctly, "It's ViMae checking in before her first day of kindergarten."

She was calling via FaceTime, giving us a view of a bright smiling face and giving her a view of two doting grandparents looking a bit sleepy. She immediately volunteered that she was nervous. I asked if she was excited, and she replied emphatically, "No, nervous." I told her it was okay to be nervous because starting school is a big new thing, and we both assured her she'd be fine.

A quick cuddle with Pa

A while later, Abby (who took a day off from work to accompany Vi to school on her first day) sent us a couple of photos (see one of them below). In them I see the girl who has grown from a wailing infant to a supremely self-confident kid. She's a girly-girl who loves pink and princesses and who hurtles around playground equipment with astonishing strength and stamina. The other photos here are from last week, when we actually went to two playgrounds in one day (and shared a malt with lunch).

She has grown up knowing that her brother is a champion early reader and who decided she was not interested in competing, so she still doesn't read much. But she has the same amazing command of vocabulary and excellent recall of the many complex stories their parents have read to them including Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings (plus Star Wars and other movies). She also has her own highly developed original story-telling skill. Where Augie is shy and reticent, she rushes to meet any potential new friend and instantly establishes a bond. While he always hated crafts, she revels in them and even recently got him involved in "decorating for a party."

Her preschool teachers told her parents that Vi was a great student--quick to learn, cooperative, cheerful, observant. I have no reason to think she won't bring all those traits to kindergarten. She, however, is busy lowering expectations. Last week I asked what she was looking forward to most. "Recess," she deadpanned like a pro, "and lunch."

Ready for school!

Some time this past summer, Vi picked up a couple of new habits. She squints in a look of disapproval...what we call the "stinkeye." Other times she bawks like a chicken. Sometimes she uses that as a way to avoid a conversation that is either uncomfortable or boring.

Last week, Pa talked with her about not using the stinkeye on her kindergarten teacher. During our FaceTime conversation this morning, he began to remind her of that. ViMae's reply: "Bawk."

We laughed and she laughed. We wished her well and said we loved her. She said, "Me, too, bye," and ended the call.

When we checked in at the end of the day she reported she'd already made a new friend named Annabelle, who is also pretty good at bawking. Tomorrow we get to deliver both Vi and Augie to school, and neither one will be nervous.

Mad dogs and Englishmen

I’m enjoying the display put on by the phlox in my garden and decided to share some more photos.

Meanwhile, we’ve been planning lots of activities for the two weeks the grandkids are with us for daycare before they start school. That time is here…and so is the heat. And humidity. And we all know “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity,” right?

Both kids will be with us this week, and Vi next week. They need activity out of doors, but it’s mostly going to be in the mornings, before the temps reach 100 and the heat index goes higher than that. After all, as Noel Coward said, “Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.” The rest of us, at least here in Minnesota, are delicate flowers who wilt easily and drop our petals.

So instead of heading to the State Fair right away on Monday, we’ll hold off until Wednesday or Thursday, when the highs should only be around 90. We’ll visit Hidden Falls Park on the Mississippi River one day, and go indoors to the Maya exhibit at the Science Museum one day. We have a couple of other surprises in mind, plus our usual trip to China Restaurant, where the kids devour steamed dumplings and lo mein and we order enough to bring home leftovers.

Even with all that, we’ll have lots of time just to play here at home. The kids will be happy to be reunited with their toys, and Peter and I will be happy for our air conditioning, even as we hate its effect on the environment.

I’m going to experiment with recording these activities using the Camera+ app for my iPhone, which I learned about from my blog friend DJan, I’ve been complaining about the quality of my iPhone photos, and this app seems to address many of the problems. I’ll let you see what I learn.

I notice that I once wrote about the finality that the end of August brings. At this moment, I don’t seem to mind the coming transition to September and autumn. How about you?