Waiting with Wildlife for Spring's Return

We are all patiently waiting for spring to arrive here in Western Massachusetts.  Flower Hill Farm has no buds a bloom in the trees or scattered about the snow covered grounds, and though I may be a bit weary of this winter, I can see signs of spring in the arrival and behavior of some of our wildlife.  I have seen turkey vultures soaring high over the hills and do note more song filling the rawness of early morning.  Also, sap is flowing within the sugar maples, while stacks from sugar shacks are ushering plumes of sweet steam into the chilly air.

A Red-shouldered Hawk woos me with his strikingly patterned wing span and full tail fan, as he flies from Michael's Black Cherry tree towards the forest below.  More ephemeral than a spring flower but what a warm rush of awe I feel in witnessing this flight.

The bluebirds are ready for spring to finally spread our way too.  I cannot help but think he is trying to tell me something coming in out of the bright sunshine, to perch in the cooler shade closer to my door.

 I am curious why the bluebirds never eat the crabapples, when so many other birds find them tasty.

Cedar Waxwings are seemingly content harvesting American Cranberry bush Viburnum and crabapple fruit.  I am seeing them through a studio sliding door and screen which gives a more pastel feel to the image.  The bright yellow tips of their tails remind me of daffodils that must be stirring a bit beneath the snow.

Waxwings filled the naked trees like large buds.  They will perch for awhile and then suddenly all will dive like a small cloud into the crabapple orchard and feast on the apples.  There is a flock of waxwings out in the crabapple orchard as I write this, but they are mostly still, taking in the warmth of the sun, on this 18 degrees Fahrenheit frigid morn.

On the ground there are hundreds of animal tracks crisscrossing around the snowy gardens and fields.  Here a white-tailed doe gracefully displays her namesake as she walks through the middle garden mirroring the white landscape.

 In the crabapple orchard, could they be munching on the tiny fallen fruit.  It has been a very long winter and all the wildlife must be longing for a heartier meal.

I startle the deer, when I open the door to have a closer look and they quickly flee into the north field.

I have always wanted horses and find them beautiful to see out in fields.  Seeing deer bounding through the snow covered scenery adds cheer to the still clinging winter day.

White-tailed Deer do very little damage here but this critter is an entirely different matter.  She chomps off-shoots of shrubberies as if they were celery sticks.  Clearly some beasts are more compatible for waiting out spring's return.  To be fair to the Eastern Cottontail, I could add that most shrubs do recover from this pruning.

Wild turkeys, however, bring such fun into the gardens.  When they fill the scene their liveliness is so comical and uplifting.  I sense they are very winter weary too, as they literally leap and lift themselves up into the trees.  This hen is not leaping for joy here but for the tiny crabapples that are abundant in the canopies of the small trees.

A hen harvests apples from up in the crabapple tree, while a few toms skid and slip about below picking up what she drops in the slippery snow. 

Sunlight is perfect lighting — illustrating the bronze-green iridescent wild turkey plumage.  This male displays his long beard or tuft of hair.  I have yet to find an explanation for this odd detail that only males don.

Such colors brighten spirits still longing for spring.  All these visits come within a day except for the Red-shouldered Hawk, who visited one day earlier.  These beautiful creatures simply take each day as it comes and in observing their grace and patience, this human can bear the wait for spring's return with gratitude and good faith too.  

A Bestiary ~ Warblers ~ Northern Parula

Over two years have passed since my monthly posts featuring Warblers began over at Native Plants and Wildlife Gardens.  The next to the last warbler in the series, and as always sighted in the gardens at Flower Hill Farm, is presented this month in 'A Bestiary — Tales from a Wildlife Garden.'  The Northern Parula perches in an old apple tree and darts about searching for insects inside flower buds as I capture photos.  If you would like to see more images and learn about these unique, small warblers please do visit — A Bestiary.

The feisty Redstart will be the last of this series of Warblers and then onto other songbirds that share this land and habitat. I so look forward to their return this spring.  It has been a joy to recall the numerous encounters I have had over the years through writing the Bestiary.  I hope to sight more species here this coming season. 

Perhaps you can match the names to the bouquet of birds above  — Yellow Warbler, Magnolia Warbler, Northern Parula, Common Yellowthroat, Chestnut Sided Warblers, Black-throated Blue Warbler, Black-throated Green Warbler, Palm Warbler, Black-and-white Warbler, Yellow-rumped Warbler, Nashville Warbler. There is a Redstart there too. 

I am still working hard on my new website, and missing posting here. I will hopefully have it going by April. 

Monarch Migration Milkweed & Monsanto

It is hard to imagine that the words Monarch, Migration and Milkweed would have anything in common with a multinational chemical and biotech corporation like Monsanto. To see and hear the word Monsanto conjures up images of poisons, lies, manipulation, and now the possible loss of a momentous migration is added to the list of onslaughts to our environment, personal health and sacred connections to nature.  

Monarch Butterfies are just one of the insects that fall prey to Monsanto made pesticides and herbicides. Many other important and treasured pollinators are killed as well.  Consider a diverse community of wildlife living within a stand of milkweed. 

It is sad to visualize a dense wet toxic veil of poison stealing across huge swaths of wildlife habitat growing alongside mono gmo crops and highways. Hundreds of species of milkweed have been killed by the insidious manipulations of Monsanto. For years farmer's allowed native plants to grow along corridors bordering their crop fields, but things have changed. GMO crops need more and more sprayings (where they promised there would be less need) and are threatening one of the wonders of our natural world. Droughts and cold fronts play a role in the demise of the Monarch Butterfly migration too. Monsanto carries most all of the blame for the killing of the essential host plants — milkweed.

Fragile life is wiped out or not ever allowed to begin when their host plant milkweed is absent.

Caterpillars never become instars or butterflies without milkweed.

Milkweed is more than just a host plant for the Monarch Butterfly. The dainty falling florets are important sources of nectar for the monarch and many other creatures. We need to recreate the lost habitat for all the life that depends on milkweed, and for the rights of the plants to live as well.

Hummingbirds are great pollinators too. Milkweed is ever giving.

Let's all plant more milkweed by all means, but also we need to call, write and sign petitions to our representatives in Congress and the Secretary of Agriculture, Tom Vilsack, demanding they stop supporting gmo crops and the outrageous use of poisons poured and sprayed over our food and  landscapes.

Perhaps even more importantly, we could act against giants like Monsanto in how we spend our dollars in our daily lives. By asking questions and following our convictions in what we purchase, we can make changes one dollar at a time. One person at a time eventually adds up to millions of dollars not supporting harmful chemical corporations.

I hope we heed this warning of our beloved Monarch Butterflies, and that the decline that has been happening over the last decade will see a turnaround soon. I am fearful, but will persist in hoping that children and adults alike, along the migration route, continue to enjoy observing both the joyous metamorphosis and the incredible migration of the Monarch Butterflies.

Taking Time to Observe Divided White Light

Taking time to observe gifts of light . . . how they stretch and morph. 

 Divided white light creating full spectrum shooting rainbows. 

While outside is a colder white. Happy School Vacation to many of you heading to warm beaches and family fun. We are up to our necks in snow, writing deadlines and building a new website. Butterflies are fluttering waiting to get out of my external hard drive and on to this page too. Much to do!