NO WORDS

OLD FRIENDS

The air has movement, not quite reaching the level of wind.  With the overcast sky the air is close and  even small gestures cause my skin to be damp.  There is much to accomplish, and deciding where to start so as not to be overwhelmed and start nowhere is the task of the morning.  It can not all be finished in a day, and truly it can never be finished at all.
I see the birds in the garden, because the trees are not so dense as the woods along the edges, where I see movement but more often just hear the chatter of the inhabitants.  The corn that Frank planted a little over a week ago is pushing up in straight little rows in the fields, and the alfalfa is growing back rapidly after the harvest.  The Bobolinks are gone.
We had a visitor to the farm the past week, my dear friend Karen.  It was lovely on many levels, but seeing the land and the gardens through the eyes of another is always inspirational.  Parker, Zoe and I feel her absence this morning.

THE ART OF THE GARDEN

This afternoon a sharp shinned hawk flew into the contorted mulberry tree(Morus Unryu), sitting contently on a lower branch, not moving until I roused him about 30 min latter. It was great having him so close and being able to observe him, observing the garden.
The robin babies are large, stuffed into the nest like sausage, you are no longer able to really see separation, just a pile of feathers and 4 beaks.
The Kingbirds, Phoebes and Orchard Orioles were concentrated in the scrub at the edge of the woods. Lots of activity, in particular with the Kingbirds, darting out low in the grass, retreating to low branches then back out again.

Much is happening in the garden, many trees are still sparely leafed, the spring bulbs and wild dogwoods have faded, but now the show of pèrienials begins to paint the landscape. The tree Peoney is in full bloom and the herbatious cousins following The gas plant (dictamnus Albus) can hardly wait to open and the bush salvia are pushing out the tubes of red and pink that the newly arrive hummingbird visits every morning. Antirrhinum and the extremely exuberant Centaurea Montana are already in full show needing dead heading. There is another plant that is also in full brilliant clear blue bloom. I bought it at the Target store many years ago as a house plant, when it had run its course I stuck it in the ground, it has now been divided and spread around the garden. The identity of this plant has not been determined, but it is lovely in the early spring garden. The California and red Poppies are opening, as are the Clematis and Primrose. There has been hours of work involved clearing the winter weeds from the beds, and there is much more to do to get the gardens nourished and groomed, but I wander the little pathways daily looking at the bloom and watching the plethora of various birds, feeling pretty sure it was well worth the investment. This is a place of peace and beauty, an ever changing  art installation, mostly run by nature.

AND ANOTHER

The start of the walk was later than usual, grass still wet from the condensation, but the sun was high on the eastern horizon.  It was, however, a very event filled walk.
The first sightings came just as the path jogs  right heading to the river.  High in the Sycamore tree was an unfamiliar profile, training my glasses on it, I could see a male Blue Grosbeak, just as he came into focus, 2 more flew in and landed close by.  Really one of my favorite birds.  They nest in the under brush close to the house, but are elusive.  The female is evident, but I seldom get to see the male.
All was quiet at the eagles nest.  The young must be oh so bored, waiting patiently for their parents to bring them food and otherwise having not much else to do, or can birds get  bored?
Parker grabbed a baby Killdeer out of the grass, but lucky for that little bird, he listened to my command to "drop it", this time.
On we went, listening to the sounds from deep within the glen. Half way up the hedgerow, there was flittering movements high in a sparsely leafed oak.  My identification skills for warblers is not finely honed, but my best guess is it was a bouquet of Common Yellowthroats.  There was so much activity, and then slowly it became less so,  then nothing, they had all moved on.
Zoe, Parker and I walked on towards home, reaching the road leading to the house. I saw some birds on the ground up ahead, thinking them to be killdeer or perhaps swallows.  Some of them flew up to the top of the tree and something caught my eye.   Could it possibly be that the Bobolinks that I had been waiting for all spring had return?  Yes it was true, I watched as they passed from the tree out over the alfalfa, and back again.  Those that remained in the trees, flew forward on mass to the next ginkgo, and the next, marching slowly down the drive as the three of us walked towards them, finally leaving the trees to fly off over the fields as well.
Home just in time to help Frank hook up the large field cultivator to the tractor.
The day has now officially started.