WALKING

The morning walks take different forms, thinking and sauntering, brisk and purposeful,  interval training, and the observational stop and go walk like the one I took this morning.  It was gorgeous this morning, which led to all sorts of looking.
First, I was able to confirm that there is at least twin eaglets in the nest by the river.  There could be the rare triplet breeding, and I just saw two, but I am sticking to the belief that we will see only two fledge from this years pairing.  One little one was sitting up high on the wall of the nest revealing almost the entire body, the other was tucked down further in the nest so that just the neck and head were revealed. It is so nice to have the nest located where I can observe without breeching the interior of the woods and bringing alarm screeches from the parents.
Off we went, continuing along the river stopping briefly to watch a pair of Herons vying for territory,  as if the river wasn't big enough for all.
Rounding the corner starting up the west hedgerow, we and I mean all of us, were starteled by a Turkey, hidden in the alfalfa suddenly launching itself into the air.  Zoe and Parker hardly knew what to do, and I let out a little scream.  We recovered and were off again.
A very faint noise came up from the glen where the creek runs, slight, but Parker and I heard it.  Then nothing.  Parker, soon bored and distracted,  ran off to join Zoe who was checking out some scent in the grass, I moved closer to edge, and stood for a moment, on the far side of the ravine a doe emerged and ran fast away.  The other two members of the walking party were oblivious to the occurrence.
At the upper end of the walk along the gully before we turned towards the lane, I could not help but stop and hunt the tree tops for a sign of the Bobolinks.  Two years ago a very large flock joined the Red Wings dipping and diving over the fields, taking refuge in the tree tops, then spreading out over the fields again.  So far there is no sign of these colorful little birds joining in the arial display.
Just about home, a little bird sat above me in the ginkgo tree singing.  I know that song.  Looking up I spotted him right away.  He was hard to miss with the sun shinning on his under belly and chest, turning it almost crimson, the male Orchard Orioles have arrived.  There will soon be great chases at fast speeds through the back yard trees as the males fight for territory and the attention of their mates.
Almost home, but one quick look in the Robin's nest by the garage, a forth blue egg has been added to the nest tucked in the spruce tree.  I will be able to watch the progress in the easily accessible cup.

EAGLE'S NEST

Dangling from the talons a fish freshly plucked after a fleeting hover and a stealthy swoop, from the calm river waters, the eagle headed straight for the nest, dropping into the giant twig bowl, the mate landed on branch close by.
It is clear that the egg(eggs?) has released it contents into the world.  I wish I could jump really high and just peer into the mossy, feather lined  home to see the tiny downy chick. It must look dwarfed by this nest that it will grow into over the months.  The eggs were no longer being attended to, I would see an eagle sitting on the edge of the nest, or on a nearby branch often, so I had a idea the babies were out of the egg, but this was confirmation.  I am sure that when the chill of night comes on, or rain is pouring down the adult spreads itself over the young for shelter and warmth, but mostly they are on their own now as the parents search for food to fuel this giant growth spurt.  I will see the heads in a few weeks and if lucky, I will witness the first flight.

EDITING

Warm days are starting to pile up and with that increase in temperature the plants are responding quickly.  Not just the plants that I want in the garden, but the unwelcome intruders as well.  The yearly ritual of yanking these uninvited guests out of the soil and carting them off to a place where their seeds will not add to next years stock is in high gear.  I have to admit, I do love these first days being out on the ground cleaning the soil.  There is so much to see and hear.
The birds are really active now, the swallows and blue birds are racing against their biological clocks to get the job done.  Nests must be built, territories established and eggs need producing.  They all swoop and dive in and out of the trees, hyperactive and chatty.
Down on the ground as I move along, pulling, and discarding, there is the pleasure of finding the green of one of my favorite plants beginning to poke up through the soil, or the joy of seeing infantile buds beginning to take form.  Satisfying, that yet again the renewal is going according to schedule,  unhappy that perhaps some did not survive.  There is always the internal dialog that goes on. "Oh, yes the Peruvian Lilly I transplanted two years ago is  ready to start blooming again" or "I doubt that Salvia 'red neck girl' survived, what a pity".  I start to catalog and make lists, in my head, of what needs to be transplanted, replaced, what new beauties will I bring into the sanctuary, what needs to be remove to regain balance.  It is so exciting to think about all of this, with sun beaming, sky blue and the smell of soil, oregano, thyme. lavendar  and artemisia diffusing in the air around me.
Parker is huddled far to long over there by brown dry grass clumps, what is he up to,  let me see, oh yes a little garden snake,  how fun for him, not so much for the snake.  I pick the light green spotted snake up, most likely a common garter, distract the pup and then guide the slithering 2 foot rope into a thicket of much denser grass cover.  Game over.