Avian Life

Finally, a lovely day with real, honest to goodness sun.  A good day to drive over to Van Patten Road. 

Gary and I count the days of a season by the wildlife that flits through them.  Today, we found the blue-winged teal had flown into the marshes beside the road.  They'll stick around through the summer and with luck, will escape the fall duck hunters.   

The yellow-headed blackbirds were back, early for them, though their red-winged brethren have been around for a least three weeks.  It is not a good survival strategy, this arriving late.  By the time the blonds show up the best nesting sites have been taken.  

Finally, there was the ruddy duck.  This little guy's spiky, upright tail is a dead giveaway.  They are one of the cutest additions to my annual bird list.  

I wondered why they're called ruddy ducks.  Gary suggested that the first person who saw one was an Englishman who blurted out, "It's a ruddy duck!"  He's such a fount of knowledge, that man.    

Next we went over to check out the eagle's nest on Kringle Road.  No one can get close to the tree they use, it's set in a watery swamp, but using binoculars, we could see the two eagles watching their nest from an adjacent tree, then one of them flew over to the nest.  We assume that the chicks have already hatched.  We'll  look in on them from time to time.  

The Library Book Sale

"Let books be your dining table, and you shall be full of delights.
Let them be your mattress and you shall sleep restful nights."
                                -- St. Ephrem the Syrian  (303-373 AD)

The Friends of the Muehl Public Library in Seymour are holding their annual spring book sale.  My job is to count the books and charge the customers.  With Easter Sunday approaching, people are coming in to buy books for their children's baskets.  What a clever idea for those with low incomes.

Paperback books are twenty five cents, hardcovers fifty cents. There are videos, audios and DVDs for the low price of $1 each.  There's a bake sale as well.  Colette, who runs an Anime film series for the teenagers, brought Japanese bakery shaped like fish.  I don't know what it's called but it's delicious.

In these days of budget cuts, the work of volunteers is absolutely essential.  In addition to the book sales, the Friends sell candy bars, hold raffles, and hold a yearly wine tasting event in November.  With the money earned, they decorate the library, host movie nights, bring in authors, and help with the children's summer reading program.

I volunteer some hours for the sales and put up posters around town -- though they forgot to ask me this time around and I'm afraid the sale is not being well attended.

Any money earned is helpful when local and state taxes are being cut.  There's a poster I saw in Madison that said "Cutting library services during bad economic times is like closing hospitals during a plague."  Here at our little library struggling people can learn how to use computers, how to write resumes, how to search the internet for possible jobs.  They can open a free e-mail accounts and use them in their queries.

A library is an excellent civic service, well worth our tax money.  I'm glad to help out.

The Brown Headed Cowbird

Yesterday there was a cowbird at our deck feeder. When the cowbirds arrive, we know the robins are nesting.  Those brood parasites come flying in to lay their eggs in robin nests, then they skedaddle, leaving the others to hatch their eggs.  Cowbirds often lay a dozen in various nests (including other species besides robins) during the season.  The cowbird chicks are bigger and more voracious than their foster siblings.  Eventually they push them out.  The frantic foster parents work to raise that last ugly baby.

Many birders find the cowbirds nasty.  Some make a point of destroying their eggs when they run across them.  Me, I don't much mind.  This is a system that works well for that species.  It certainly has done the robins no harm.   These days, humans have surrogate parents, so why criticize cowbirds?

There is a morality that humans try to attach to critters.  Once I was training our Australian shepherd by rewarding him for good behavior with treats.  My mother pointed out that he was getting rewarded for good behavior and that instead, he should be punished when he was bad.

"He's not a Lutheran," I told her.  "He's not going to Heaven, according to the church so why not reward him on earth."   My training system worked.  

The cowbirds aren't Christian either.  I leave them alone.

Spring Comes Back

Yesterday over nine inches of snow were dumped on Wisconsin, covering my gardens.

Today, the snow is rapidly melting.  The sound of water slipping off roofs is like the sound of a rushing river, making me think of the days of summer camping.

And in my garden, the daffodils, covered completely last night, are already lifting their heads, ready to bloom in the days ahead.

White Easter

Up to eight inches of snow will be dumped on northeast Wisconsin by tomorrow night.  As it falls, Gary sings, "I'm dreaming of a white Easter."  This is not a good thing to do to someone who has been aching to get into her garden.  Just before the snow started, I went out and picked the first three daffodils.  They are now here in my office, the only spring I'll have for a while.

Lifeguards

The lifeguards at the aquatic center are an interesting bunch of kids. Because I select odd hours, I am often the only person in the water.   While I do aerobic exercises to work out kinks in my knee I chat with the guards.  Exercise is boring but conversation makes it less so.  Some of them are still in high school.  I know many of their teachers so we talk about their classes.  We talk about their college plans and I give them tips about applying for universities and scholarships.

Others are already in college.  With one, I discuss economic theory, with another philosophy.  How amusing to discuss Aristotle or Hegel while I am paddling in a pool!  Politics are a rousing topic.  Some know exactly where they are going, others are still searching out paths.

I tell them about my work in the forests, trying to get them to explore nature, to have experiences  beyond what a small town can offer.  This week, I told them about the work of the International Crane Foundation in Baraboo who are bringing the whooping crane back from extinction.   Maybe in another year, I'll convince one or two of them to join me on a crane count.

One of them wants to be a writer.  We have that in common.  Most of them want to travel.

What adventures lie ahead if they open their minds to the possibilities!

Van Patten Road

For three days, we had rain, sleet and high winds.  I was stuck inside, other than the drive to count cranes in the rain yesterday and Sunday church services.  

Worse, the temperature in the Wolf River went down instead of up. That means that the female sturgeon have backed off on their spawning plans.  Gary and I were scheduled to guard tonight and tomorrow night, but our shifts were canceled.  Gary is going to Illinois to help his 90 year old aunt with her yard work, so it looks like we'll miss our yearly date with the giants.  It can't be helped, but I am not happy about it.

By today, I was badly out of sorts, grumpy and complaining.  Church was so-so, couldn't find any inspiration.  I came home to take a nap, but Rascal has his feline opinions.  My bed is his for napping in the afternoon.  He nudged me out.  Finally, I went to my sure mood cure for what ails me, Van Patten Road.

Van Patten is a mile long road between State Highway 54 and County Highway P, between Black Creek and Shiocton.  Both sides of the road are swampland, a mini Horicon Marsh, with the same migratory birds.  In the spring, the area is flooded.  This year, the water is lapping on the road, but it's still passable.

The first swans in our area come to Van Patten Road.  Here we spot the first red-winged blackbirds, and their competition, the yellow headed blackbird.  A variety of migratory water fowl stop there for a rest before heading  to Canada. In the fall, the process goes in reverse.  Even in the winter, we might find northern harriers scouting for foolish mice and voles.

Today, there were geese, scaup, grebes, coots and mallards, along with a red-tailed hawk, red-winged blackbirds, and a few gulls.  Best of all, the first flock of tree swallows arrived.  These aerial acrobats only come when the flying insects emerge.  They swoop around, passing each other by inches.  Gary claims he once saw two swallows collide, but I've never seen it and I've watched them for hours.  How do they do it with no air traffic controllers?

When I came home, the sun was out, the wind died down and my mood changed from dour to happy. I'd like to give the swallows credit for all three, but I suppose they can only claim responsibility for the latter.