Posts Tagged ‘wild bird eggs’
Slowly Expanding
On a walk back toward the house from the labyrinth, I spotted this remnant in the trail, but no visible nest in the immediate vicinity. I imagine there could be multiple explanations for how it ended up here. I’m hoping for one that includes the successful hatch of a baby bird.
I like how the mottled shadows of emerging leaves made it look like there was a spotlight on the shell.
I don’t know why, but this made me think to check on our patch of trillium we transported from the lake place up in Hayward, WI. Over a series of years, we were bringing back batches of these wonderful flowering forest plants after Memorial Day weekend.
They are so prevalent up there that the white flowers carpet the forest floor this time of year, creating a mesmerizing scene. It’s hard to imagine we would ever reach that level here at home, but even a small patch is rewarding. In this spot, I counted twice and came up with 19 plants, but I knew I wasn’t getting them all. The longer I looked, the more I noticed.
Final count: 24. I’m pretty sure that’s more than we planted. It will be most rewarding to find they are now spreading naturally in their new home.
It’s not always easy to keep track of where things are in the woods. I know we tried starting an establishment in at least two other areas, but they didn’t take. After a couple of seasons, I figured out we will be better off focusing our attention on one main spot. Still, I thought there was another grouping just a few feet away from this one.
I eventually spotted it.
There weren’t many flowers yet, and a tree branch had fallen into the area, but there’s trillium there. It looks like a bit of competition from trout lilies, which are the most widespread ground cover we have here, followed closely by jewelweed.
I look forward to a day when these two trillium groups merge into one as the transplants slowly expand their new Wintervale establishment and take command over all other contenders in this area. We may have brought them here, but I leave it up to nature to decide the eventual outcome.
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Beautiful Adventures
It was another beautiful day in Wintervale-be-gone yesterday where the dog and cat are strong, the horses are good-looking, and the scenery is above average. I was able to get out for a short bike ride into the wind in a test of my bike with no battery installed. I finally purchased the cover that replaces the battery on the down tube. It required a call to Trek to learn it was only available from the distributor QBP (Quality Bicycle Products) and only able to be ordered by bike shops.
I kept telling myself the bike was so much lighter, that it would be noticeably less effort to pedal it up the hills without electric assist. I think it almost was.
Cyndie has done an absolutely heroic job of working to stop the spread of leaf rust fungus on our wild black raspberry plants lately. Inspired by success from the daunting project last summer, she set out to continue this year, fighting the spread of this highly infectious threat, diligently bagging infected plants she digs up and then cleaning and disinfecting her tools, boots, and clothes afterward.
While she was busy finding a nest of eggs nestled in the middle of the bushes, I set out to cut one last trail that had been passed by the last time I was out with the power trimmer. Just a small distance that wouldn’t take very much time. Was that why I may have been less attentive to every step I was taking?
My foot landed on a protruding root and my ankle rolled severely enough to drop me in a heap of anguish and pain. I have strained my ankles so many times in my life that this was an all-too-familiar predicament.
I stayed flat on my back for a long time, holding my foot in the air above me while waiting for the initial sharp pain to calm and trying to think through my options. It felt like a medium level of severity but I wanted to be overcautious in hope of recovering from this little misstep as soon as physically possible.
I phoned Cyndie but she didn’t answer. I tried texting. I propped my boot on the trunk of a tree and stayed on my back to ponder my next move. I could wait for her to find me. I tried my loud shrill whistle to see if it would trigger her to look at her phone. I thought she could bring down an ankle brace or crutches or, worst case, help me get back up to the house if it seemed so bad when I finally stood up that I didn’t want to put weight on it.
I laid long enough for the pain to calm and the mosquitos to find me so I decided it was time to stand up and make an assessment. I could put weight on it but walking was quite a hobbling limp. All part of the adventure in this beautiful place that is our home.
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Relative Something 