Woods Wanderer

In the thick of winter, we have lots of visitors to our backyard feeders. I think of them as visitors, but most of them live in the surrounding trees. Robins and crows suddenly appear whenever the ground is free of snow, and migrators pass through the area in fall and spring. But this time of year, the denizens of the forest stay with us: woodpeckers, nuthatches, chickadees, etc. And goldfinches, of course. They’ve been coming around by the dozen ever since Judy hit upon the kind of food that they like: black oil sunflower seeds.

Credit where credit is due: Judy is the one who has developed our rather elaborate feeding stations. If it had been up to me, there would be one lousy feeder full of cheap bird food out there and the occasional visitor. But through research, along with trial and error, she has figured out what works best. As a result, we have birds in our backyard every day throughout the winter months.

Mourning doves forage on the ground beneath the feeders, accompanied by squirrels. The squirrels would get up into the feeders and clean them out if they could, but we’ve installed baffles on the poles that keep our feeders seven feet off the ground. One incredibly acrobatic squirrel managed to get up into the feeders anyhow, but he was the exception to the rule. So the squirrels, like the doves, are limited to what gets knocked to the ground. Or what we throw down there. Curiously enough, the squirrels and doves usually feed side-by-side without either party caring about the other. Go figure.

I’m partial to the woodpeckers, especially the red-bellied woodpeckers that feed on the suet we have hanging out there. I often whip out my binoculars to see them better whenever they come around, even though I’ve seen them a thousand times before. Their woodpecker nonchalance fascinates me. Unlike the skittish goldfinches, they aren’t easily spooked – short of us stepping outside. Even then…

The wild comes to me this time of year, even as I stay inside for the most part, doing my literary work. I love it. Yesterday I found deer tracks in the snow leading up to our feeders. Every once in a while, some other critter will stop by. Every wild creature is a welcome sight this time of year, even the sharp-shinned hawk who preys on the not-so-swift mourning doves. The birds and animals keep me entertained this time of year. They keep me from feeling disconnected, until I get out of the house on a regular basis in the spring. And Judy gets more photos of these birds than she can ever possibly use.

Tags: backyard nature, bird watching, wild birds, winter

A few days ago Judy and I lingered in the Northeast Kingdom after visiting family at Lake Wallace, clear up in the northeast corner of Vermont. We drove past the small town of Island Pond to the Wenlock Wildlife Management Area. Then we walked the trail to Moose Bog Pond. We had encountered some interesting birds there during a visit last year and hoped to do so again.

The trail is a short, easy, nearly flat path winding through a spruce/fir forest that’s home to the ever-elusive spruce grouse. I caught a glimpse of that bird last year but it disappeared before Judy could get a photo. No matter. There were plenty of friendly red-breasted nuthatches and grey jays to entertain us at Moose Bog Pond back then.

But that was last year. This year the grey jays were nowhere to be seen, and the nuthatches were skittish. A great blue heron was feeding at the pond, but it was too far away for Judy to get a good shot. So she photographed northern pitcher plants as we hung out for a while on the boardwalk jutting into the bog surrounding the pond. It was a beautiful summer day in the woods so we were happy just being there. All the same, I could tell that Judy was a tad disappointed.

On the way out, Judy took pictures of some interesting mushrooms while I crept ahead. That’s when I caught a little movement out of the side of my eye. I looked over and, sure enough, there was a spruce grouse half-hidden in the dense understory. I froze in place then signaled to Judy. She was looking down at the time and didn’t see me at first, but I didn’t dare say a word. Remarkably, the grouse didn’t move away. Then Judy saw me gesturing wildly and slowly moved in to photograph the bird. Even more remarkably, the grouse turned around giving Judy an even better view. She took a bunch of pictures.

Isn’t that the way it goes when dealing with wildlife? How many times have I gone looking for a creature only to come up empty-handed? How many times have they popped up, taking me completely by surprise? It’s all very serendipitous.

Tags: boreal forest, hiking, Northeast Kingdom, Vermont, wild birds

Earlier this week my granddaughter, Kaylee, and I found a couple crayfish in a sinkhole next to a stream.  While sitting on our porch, my wife and I spotted a yellow flicker in nearby trees – a bird I haven’t seen in years. I saw some kind of blue orchid in full bloom while hiking Jay Peak the other day.  A barred owl suddenly appeared a few yards off trail while I was hiking Aldis Hill a few weeks ago.  I saw a red fox and her two kits there once.  I want to say that such sightings are uncommon but that’s not the case.  They occur on a regular basis.  It’s just that they always catch me off guard.  Why is that?

Often I venture into the woods with binoculars or a field guide in hand, looking for the rare and beautiful.  I am usually disappointed.  Nearly every attempt I’ve made to track down large animals – bear, moose, or deer – has come to nothing.  Yet I bump into wildlife frequently enough.  I’ve never been able to see a mink on cue, but I see them every once in a while as I’m fishing.  Same goes for eagles, otters and pine martens.  I can spot a chipmunk or squirrel a few minutes after stepping into the woods, but running into a coyote is always a fluke.  It’s almost as if I see more of the wild when I’m not looking for it.

Why are these encounters so unexpected?  I’m not sure but I suspect it has something to do with the assumptions that we make.  We go about our business, immersed in a world of our own making, going in and out of buildings, negotiating a complex network of streets and roads, entertaining ourselves electronically, and it appears that existence is all about us.  Everything else is peripheral.  Everything else is, well, inconsequential – there only to meet our needs.  The whole universe revolves around us.  Isn’t it obvious?  In this context, it’s hard to imagine plants and animals having a life of their own.

We go to zoos to see animals, and gardens to see plants.  But we venture into the wild to be surprised.  Sometimes we are surprised by what we don’t find there.  Almost always something pops up that we haven’t anticipated.  Remarkably, we often miss the unexpected because our thoughts are elsewhere.  This is the curse of having so much gray matter between the ears.  Our lives are more abstract than we realize.

As a philosopher – a ponderer of things to the point of absurdity – I am more guilty than most of missing what’s right in front of me.  Consequently, when I’m in the woods I am more surprised.  The wild never ceases to amaze me.  Waterfalls, rainbows, red efts on the trail, and bizarre-looking mushrooms arising overnight – all this should be expected.  Yet I’m surprised.  Oddly enough, encounters such as these are what I live for. Go figure.

Tags: awareness, the wild, wild animals, wild birds, wildflowers