Nestboxes for rent

While I'm away birding in West Virginia, I'm re-running some of my favorite posts from the past. I'll have lots to share when I get back, I'm sure. For now, though, enjoy these oldies but goodies.

Fieldside Realty -

providing safe nest boxes since 2006

It is our business at

Fieldside Realty

to offer clean, safe, and free housing

to Bluebirds and Tree Swallows each spring.

Each of our properties includes

* Handcrafted one-room oak box,

perfect for nest building and starting your family

* Stovepipe baffle for security against rodents and snakes

* Creekside access, just wingbeats away

* Free nesting material

* Some of the best bug hunting in town

* Excellent perching spots nearby

The properties are located in a friendly,

well-landscaped neighborhood.

Humans will check in on your dwellings periodically

to make sure that you are doing well

and to track the progress of your

growing family.

We hope you will consider renting from

Fieldside Realty today.

(Special appreciation given to multiple brood attempts.)

NEW LISTING: 1 duck box available for immediate occupancy

Waiting and resting

I haven't yet lamented about this winter season, which is really saying something for me. And I'm not going to start now. But that doesn't mean that I'm not thinking about spring, as I most certainly am. I am waiting.

There's a certain stillness about winter that starts to creep in right around February, a quite time that is necessary before the buzz of March and April. A proverbial calm before the storm - but a good storm, full of greenery and flowers and bird song and hope. Yes, we still need to rest some more before making that push toward vernal bliss. In that resting, I contemplate, looking at the bleak landscape, seeing it for textures, knowing it will become fertile soon enough.


For now, the landscape must rest, laying in the peaceful repose of dormancy. She is waiting, too.

The whisper of autumn

Crows - caw, caw, cawing... a melancholy song
Squirrels scamper amidst a carpet of crunching leaves
Crisp breezes slowly denude the trees and
Nuts randomly pelt the ground
Crickets chirp at midday -
Fields of corn and soy, brown and spent,
prepare to give of their fruit for the harvest -
Asters and pumpkins, cider and bonfires
Brilliant leaves offset by brooding skies -
Daylight fades sooner
Dawn shimmers with dew
Coolness set in
yet butterflies and dragonflies
still fill the fields
holding on as long as they can.
I, too, am holding on, clinging to summer -
The siren song of autumn is drawing me in,
enticing me.
It is my only choice -
to embrace and rejoice.

space available

Fieldside Realty -

providing safe nest boxes since 2006

It is our business at

Fieldside Realty

to offer clean, safe, and free housing

to Bluebirds and Tree Swallows each spring.

Each of our properties includes

* Handcrafted one-room oak box,

perfect for nest building and starting your family

* Stovepipe baffle for security against rodents and snakes

* Creekside access, just wingbeats away

* Free nesting material

* Some of the best bug hunting in town

* Excellent perching spots nearby

The properties are located in a friendly,

well-landscaped neighborhood.

Humans will check in on your dwellings periodically

to make sure that you are doing well

and to track the progress of your

growing family.

We hope you will consider renting from

Fieldside Realty today.

(Special appreciation given to multiple brood attempts.)

NEW LISTING: 1 duck box available for immediate occupancy

I stole this one straight from my writing blog. I thought you all would get a kick out of it. National Poetry Writing Month is almost over, and I'm secretly glad because it has pulled me away from this blog more than I would have liked. However, come May, new time challenges will present themselves as I start taking classes to become an Ohio Certified Volunteer Naturalist (OCVN for short). In case you're wondering what it means to be an OCVN, here is an explanation from their website:

An Ohio Certified Volunteer Naturalist is an individual with a passion for the natural world who wishes to attend training and use his or her knowledge by giving back to the community through volunteer service. The program has three components: training, volunteer service hours, and advanced education.

I hope to report on the experience as classes progress.

Speaking of progress, the baby Phoebes are getting stronger every day.  I'm pretty sure I've seen 4 little heads/beaks in there.  I'll try to get some videos posted soon.  Also, I watched a Tree Swallow pair contemplating moving into one of the nest boxes today.  They inspired that bit of writing above.

Oh, and Flora-Quest is next weekend!!!!  I'll get to spend an entire day (at least) photographing flowers.  I cannot wait!

Take care, everyone!

Spring meditation

The crocuses lift their faces skyward, bringing the first riot of color of the year to the yard. Morning still breaks with a chill, but the dawn chorus has already begun. The early bird gets the worm, and maybe a lady to carry on his line if he's lucky.


The days blaze warmer, and sunshine falls from the sky, bringing with it the promise of new life, energy, and fresh starts. Although the calendar has not marked it yet, spring has wrapped its arms around us. It came in tentatively, dropping hints here and there. Winter wanted to stay in our hearts, and held on for dear life, like fingers clinging to a crumbling cliff. But then, like a flash flood, the vernal time was upon us and the warmth and the rain and the sun and the song rushed in.


Evening beckons us to don jackets, and the smell of coolness hangs in the air. The frogs trill and the creeks flow, ceaseless sounds providing a perfect backdrop for meditation. It is a good time for slowing down. A good time to sit - to watch, to listen, to be.

Springtime S.O.S.

Last day of February, 32 degrees and snow on the ground.
The air is crisp and clean -
sound travels far.

The birds sing a song in Morse code.
Nuthatches, drumming woodpeckers, chipping titmice and chickadees -
they provide the dots,
While the plaintive "coo's" of the Mourning Doves simulate the dashes.

They heard my S.O.S message: "Tired of winter. Stop."

Their reply:
"Spring is coming. Stop.
Be patient. Stop.
Keep feeding us. Don't stop."

Ice: An Intimate Portrait

Two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom,
multiplied by millions and frozen -
fused together to create a masterpiece.

Sheets, diamonds, bubbles,
Edgy and fluid, jagged and round -
shape shifter.

Flowing, rippling, dripping -
Pulsing, breathing, living.
Water drops like heart beats.

Thawing and freezing,
Expand and contract.

Inhale.
Exhale.

Words on the wind

Fierce wind has been with us all day, and as I was driving home from work, words started nagging in my brain, saying that I should tell the story of the wind....

---

Savage wind is nature, raw and elemental -
full of bluster and muster and might.

Heavy sighs toss and twirl debris like confetti,
sending it hither and yon.

Burning breath of anger and wrath ushers in destruction -
tackling those too fragile to stand,
trees crashing to the ground.

Leaving confusion and chaos in its wake, its biting breezes withdraw,
slowly...
silently.

Hush.

---

P.S. For any of the writers among you who might happen to be reading this, I would appreciate any constructive criticism you might be willing to share on this piece. I had a hard time getting the timing and tempo right, and I'm still not entirely happy with it. Since I'm actively trying to work on my writing chops, it would be nice to know how this falls on ears other than my own. You can leave your response in the comments, or email me directly (see my profile for the address). Thank you.

Evening symphony

Even though I am not a fan of the shorter days that accompany fall and winter, I do enjoy spending time outside at dusk during this time of year. It's a nice way to wrap up the day, and it really quiets my mind. As with the gold-hued light that shows itself at dawn and dusk during this season, there is a special quality to the sounds at this time of year. It's hard to explain, but the difference is tangible in my mind. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that there is less vegetation around to dampen the sound. In the spring, birders have the dawn chorus to look forward to. In the fall and winter, I look forward to the evening symphony.

The players in this pastoral symphony are few, but the lack of diversity is made up for by the richness of the sound. At dusk the Cardinals and White-throated Sparrows come out to play. The Cardinals announce their presence with heavy wing beats, and their vrit vrit call that reminds me so much of the sound of corduroy pant legs rubbing together. The sparrows sing out their high chip note, and make such a racket as they dart in and out of the brush and leaf piles on the ground. Polite dinner conversation among friends is how I like to think of it. At present, I still await the sweet callings of the Towhee, saying it's name and foraging among the leaf litter with it's odd but effective hop-back style of scratching the ground.

From time to time a Barred Owl will let out out a bellowing "WHOOOOOOawwwwl" from deep in the woods. I try to call it in with my meager imitation of the owl's signature song of "Who cooks for you, who cooks for you alllll," but my attempts are usually met with silence. I've got to figure out how to make my voice more resonant when I do that one.

If I'm lucky, a flock of Canada Geese sounds off in the distance, no doubt heading to a pond or plowed corn field in search of their evening meal. If I'm really lucky, the flock flies right overhead and I hear the whistle of their wings while they honk alternately amongst themselves.

The air is crisp and clean, and a breeze causes the rattling of dry beech leaves which cling so tenaciously to their branches. Nature's own version of wind chimes, perhaps? Off in the neighboring valleys, cows moo and dogs bark. The dull hum of traffic drones softly from the not-so-distant highway. The report of a shotgun echos from hilltop to hilltop, sometimes a signal of target practice, other times telling of a hunt in progress.

And sometimes, briefly, there is quiet and stillness. I breathe it in deeply, happy to be an audience of one to it all. And the cost of admission? Free.

Acknowleding the season

This is a bit of creative writing that I've debated whether to share or not. I finally decided to go for it. I've embellished it with a few photo illustrations I made in Photoshop years ago. Please let me know what you think (criticisms are always welcome here). Thank you.

---

When spring migration kicks off in April, I get so excited. After months of cold temperatures and gray skies, the sweet singing of the arriving migrants begins. These avian friends, who finally see fit to leave their warm wintering grounds to grace our still chilled woods, put pep in my step for weeks on end with their melodies. It's easy to get excited about spring for lots of reasons. Longer days, shorter nights, warmer temperatures, blooming flowers and trees, brightly colored birds... everything is waking up after months of dormancy.

Getting excited about fall, however, takes a little more effort. I'm reluctant to part with summer and its long-lingering daylight (true, parting is such sweet sorrow). The heat and humidity I have no problem bidding farewell, but the shortening days just break my heart. And so I have to look to other aspects of the changing season to find its true worth.

For example...
I love the fog that settles in the valleys overnight, and the way it diffuses the day's first light and illuminates every cobweb.
I love the unmistakable smell in the air - a combination of newly fallen leaves and the intensified perfume of damp earth.
I love the changing landscape as the trees melt into their finest colors before disrobing for their long winter's nap.
And I love the smell of smoke as the human inhabitants of these hills put their first logs on the fire to ward off the cool northwest winds.


While spring is a time of newness and excitement, with bright life around every corner, the waning days of autumn bring a sense of slowing down, of contemplation. There is a renewed sense of appreciation for the cycle of life as plants go dormant and animals hibernate, and a sense of peace unknown during other seasons. The rustle of walking through crisp leaves will eventually give way to quiet padding over snow-covered ground. Quiet. Stillness. In the air, and in my mind.

After such consideration, I am ready for fall.