Watching the Gardener

   As I was on my hands and knees transplanting cauliflower into the garden rows, a sudden feeling overcame me.  Eerily it felt as if someone (or something) was watching me.  Hmmm?  Where is that goofy cat?  Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, has a sneaky way of creeping up on you and silently watching your every move.  He just sits and stares, then, suddenly darts out of his hiding spot to nearly knock you off your feet.  I am sure he is just being playful but, I have to admit, he has caught me off guard on several occasions.  A 16lb cat can really pack a wallop when it wants.  Anyway, no cat could be seen lurking nearby nor was any snoopy person in the area so I went back to my planting.

  Then...the feeling returned.  Something had to be watching me!  I usually get gut-feelings and tend to follow them.  This gut-feeling was not leaving so I needed to find the "watcher".  My search took me outside the garden gate and down the hill where I could get a better view of the garden perimeter.  Still...nothing.  I was just about to shrug off the feeling as a fluke when a loud "Kee-aah" followed by four more of the same came from the top of the dead oak tree.  Ahh, there is my watcher!  A beautiful, red shouldered hawk was perched on the tiptop of the tree and had the perfect view of this old lady in her garden.

  The sighting of the hawk pleased me as I know that my plants will be protected from varmints.  These hawks are agile hunters that can drop silently from a treetop to the garden without a rodent ever being aware of their presence.  Red shouldered hawks will eat most any small mammal, bird or reptile that they can catch but I am in hopes that this one will merely catch whatever munches my cauliflower plants!  I welcomed the hawk to the garden and I went back to work with my transplanting.  My garden is late as I was sidelined by a brief bout of sickness.  It is past time to get those plants to growing!

The Blue Dot

   Earlier, the sun hit one of the prisms in the window at an odd spot and, instead of the normal rainbow of colors produced, a single blue dot of brilliance hit the wall.  I was at the right angle to see the dot whereas Son sitting across the room could not.  Why did this blue dot strike a chord with me?  Simply because over the past few days I witnessed some pretty spectacular events yet no one else could "see" them.  No one cared.  Even when I tried to share the experiences, I was met with blank stares, no responses whatsoever or "So?".  To be honest, it hurt.  I am not sure why but it did.  Perhaps that bit about being alone is not bad but loneliness is terrible has come to settle in around me.  No one understands.

  First, there was the tiny ribbon snake that lives near Puddle Pond.  It is no secret that the tiny snake is there as it can often be seen slithering through the hyacinths in search of baby frogs.  What made the sighting meaningful was that the snake was the prey not the predator and it sought my help.  A black racer was also at the pond and had spied the ribbon snake.  Had the smaller snake not wormed its way next to my foot, it would have surely met its end.  The black snake was not as confident about being next to a human as the ribbon snake was so the chase ended rather quickly.  I gently moved the tiny snake to the hanging plant on the arbor and shooed the larger critter along its way.  Just knowing the wee thing trusted me was thrilling...at least to me.

  Next, a hawk alit on a limb just a few feet from my head while I was out watering the dying plants this morning. The poor bird was looking longingly at the droplets.  I ever so slowly turned the spray toward the limb and thus on the bird.  The hawk was not afraid and actually started fluffing its feathers as if to soak up each droplet.  The heat and drought was obviously being harsh on the bird and it needed cooling as much as the plants.  After a few moments, the hawk flew to a nearby oak tree and watched as I continued my chores with my heart aflutter with excitement.

  Then, that blue dot of light which meant nothing other than the insight it gave me into how others cannot see what I do.  The brilliance aptly depicted my enthusiasm over the other events and the fact that Son could not even see it from his position nailed the attitudes of those not caring about the simple yet exquisite things around us at any given time.  Son and I discussed the reasoning behind the lack of response from people.  Either it has come to the point where others have lost the ability to marvel in the simple things in life or I have gotten to the point where each event (no matter how mundane) is extraordinary.  Perhaps this is due to the fact that life is short and becoming shorter with each day.  I am determined to cram as much "life" into what remains of my time here on this earth.  Folks, never...ever...lose the enthusiasm.  Live in wonder.  Take each day and view it in awe.  Trust me when I say there is never enough time. 

"Bad" Bat! Bad Hawk?

   When Son named the rescued kitten last year, he took the "b" from black and the "at" from cat and squished them together to make "Bat".  He said that it could fit in so many instances from black cat to beautiful cat to big cat to bad cat.  Well, he could have stopped before he got to that last one but it slipped out.  Thus, we have Bat, the cat.  The descriptions fit well.  He is definitely one large, beautiful, black cat but that bad...that bad...oh, geez!

  Actually, Bat is not truly a bad cat.  He is just a cat being a cat.  This morning, that "being a cat" got him a good scolding.  Bat proudly led us to a bird...not just any bird...he brought us right to a dead rail.  Oh, my.  Bat, did you kill that bird??  How in the world could he catch a rail?  Never before have any of our outdoor cats gone hunting in the marsh to find a rail but, well, Bat is not any of our other cats.  He is different, to say the least.  He is definitely a hunter and in just a year's time of teaching himself, he has mastered the art of blending in with his surroundings.  He has the silent walk down pat and can leap far beyond what seems logical.  And...did I mention...he is large...very large...not fat...just one big, muscle-bound cat.  Critters do not stand a chance against him if he takes a notion of smacking them.  

  The photo above is not of the bird that was killed as it was from several years ago.  It was the same type and perhaps one of this one's brood. The killing of any rail saddens me as they are some of my critter friends...thus the scolding.  I cannot be 100% certain that Bat caught the bird but he was suspiciously happy with the "finding" of the...ummm...dead bird.  I buried the little bird in the garden and was returning the shovel to the greenhouse when I heard a ruckus down behind the canebrake.  THAT BAT!!!  I scurried down to the marsh edge to hear yet another rail in distress.  I was ready to smack a cat when a hawk flew up from the mudflat with a bird in its clutches!  Oh, my.  Maybe I scolded Bat to quickly?  Maybe Bat had just found the bird after the hawk dropped it?  Maybe the hawk was the culprit all along?  Well...perhaps the scolding will make Bat think twice about catching a bird.  Probably not.  Bad Cat!!!  Bad Hawk!!  

The "Bird Hotel" Has No Vacancies!

  The arbor around the french doors has a canvas awning cover.  I hang a few potted ferns on either side of the front steps and then always have large plants on stands under the ferns.  Last year, a tiny wren loved the fern so much that she made her nest there twice.  She survived a tropical storm without ever leaving her nest.  I had tied the fern from all sides to keep it from swinging too much so she was safe and sound.  Since then, she has returned to the nest and her broods come to roost on the beams and some nestle down in the fern with her.  The sweet little family is welcome to stay as long as they like, however, this spring, they may have company.

  On the opposite side (about six feet from the fern nest), a pair of doves have taken a liking to the other fern.  Another nest is in the process of being made.  Doves, like wrens, seek out places that are near humans that they trust.  It makes me feel good to know that my critter friends feel safe around me.  I am in hopes that both birds will nest near the door and be at ease with each other.  Both wrens and doves are not overly territorial so it should all work out fine.

  The pair of doves come to the plant stand that now serves as a feeder.  I had taken down the other feeders when the hawk was visiting (but not for sunflower seeds).  Several birds were snatched before I realized what was happening.  The plant stand was beneath the broad leaves of an avocado tree which provided a blind for the songbirds.  Since our hard freeze, the leaves are slowly dropping.  The feeder protection is almost naught now and I noticed the hawk has returned.  Son and I were pondering how to devise another shelter for the birds.  Hopefully, tomorrow will find us with some suitable deterrent.  While I love the hawk, it needs to leave my sweet songbirds and search for a nice fat rat!

The "Down Under" Birds

   I love feeding the songbirds that are fulltime residents or are migrating visitors to the Bayou.  I consider the birds among my friends so  why wouldn't I share a meal with them?  You can imagine how it wounded me to see that I was fattening them up for the small hawk that is also a resident here.  The Cooper's Hawk found that the birds were easy pickings from the feeders as it sat in the nearby hickory tree.  After finding the telltale feathers of a recent kill, I decided to stop putting seeds in the feeders.  I just could not...would not enable a hawk to have easy access by my doings.  If the hawk caught a bird anywhere else, so be it but I would not make them "sitting ducks", so to speak.  The songbirds did not understand this sudden lack of foodstuffs and often scolded me if I was nearby.  It was a quandary.  Do I neglect the songbirds?  Do I allow the hawk to feed?  Puzzlements.

  Well, things always have a way of working out for the best.  The constant scolding from the cardinals, chickadees and titmice finally convinced me to buy more birdseed.  To semi-protect the little birds I had to come up with a new plan.  I had to outsmart the hawk or, at least, make it more difficult for the predator to feast upon the songbirds.  Now, the birds have gone "down under".  No, I did not send them to Australia.  I simply put the seed under the flower benches next to Puddle Pond.   The smaller birds eat in peace and drink safely from the Pebble Creek under the cover of overhanging plants.  In fact, the hawk seems to have gotten the idea that it would be simpler to look elsewhere for prey.  It has not been visiting as often as it had in the past.  Maybe the birds are tad safer now.

The Wily Hunter

  Early this afternoon, Mark and I were enjoying the warm sunshine when he suddenly pointed out a hawk that had landed in the yon oak tree.  He was in the wicker chair and I was on the front step.  My view of the bird was blocked by the arbor and the side of the house.  I eased off the step and searched the trees for the bird.  Mark kept telling me to look in the oak tree.  Well, there are dozens and dozens of oak trees in the yard.  Which one??  Which oak tree??  Mark knew if he moved too much the hawk would take flight so he described things around the tree.  I found it!  Right at that moment, the bird took flight down the hill to the dead pine.  Well, that just meant that I needed to hike a bit.

  I slipped around to the side of the garden and down behind the grape arbor.  Ok, bird.  Sit still!  Don't you go gliding down over the Bayou.  Wait for me!  The hawk only scanned the marsh.  The head swiveled back and forth as it searched for any movement.  Since the hawk was facing away from me, I was able to get relatively near before it was aware that I was approaching.  It seemed unperturbed that I was edging nearer and nearer.  Suddenly, the bird perked up and stared at the marsh.  It stretched its head forward and stared.  Then, those broad wings stretched and down went the bird!  The attempt was futile, however, as it came up with empty talons.  Whatever it had found lived for another day and perhaps learned a lesson in survival....Watch for hawks!  

  This particular hawk does not seem to fear us as it comes to the yard often.  A few days ago, Mark was shucking oysters down near the marsh edge when the bird decided to visit him.  It perched itself on the top of yet another broken pine and settled in to watch the man at work.  Later, I am sure the bird returned in hopes that mice, rats or some other small rodent would be lured to the empty (yet, smelly) shells. 

 

   This bird is a wily hunter!  It is welcome to stay around the place even though it means I have to feed the songbirds on the ground BENEATH the flower bench.  The hawk is doing its part in keeping the place free of rodents.  Besides, I need a new friend!  (And this one is great at that social distancing thing that is required.)

Hiding The Birds!

  Since my days are limited to the small gardens, I have become quite acquainted with the few critters that visit daily.  In the recreated "Puddle Pond", a few tiny frogs are happy to provide chirps, six fat squirrels raid the bird feeder and dozens of birds come to visit.  I consider all of them to be my friends and they do not seem to mind my prattle.  They sit and stare while I hold conversations with them pretending they can answer.  (Yes, life with limits is boring but, at least, it is still life! Life is good.)

  It is not often that a large predator makes its way into the small gardens.  Most are quite dubious about the fences.  Birds of prey, however, are not bound by fences.  One visited.  It broke my heart.  On an early morning stroll in the east side of the small gardens, I noticed something white fluttering in the soft breeze.  On closer inspection, that "something white" turned out to be a small feather.  Then, I stumbled upon a mound of feathers.  These belonged at one time to a mourning dove.  My heart was breaking as I knew that the pair had just fledged their two little ones.  The family of four was now down to three.  One of the adults fell prey to a hawk.

  Doves have a funny (and useless) defense when threatened by a predator.  The birds, being mostly ground feeders, simply squat in place.  They do not seek shelter among the brambles as the cardinals do nor do they put up a collective fight like the blue jays.  They sit. They simply sit.  They are literally "sitting doves"...a play on the old saying "sitting ducks".  This sitting makes them prime targets for hawks.   A hawk can swoop down, grab the dove and never miss a wing beat.  It is that easy for them. Hawks pluck the feathers of a captured songbird before eating it.

  With the realization that I was fattening the songbirds for a hawk's dining pleasure, I have amended my ways.  Instead of overfilling the feeder, I now put enough there to satisfy the squirrels but sprinkle lots of seeds under the benches, large leafed plants and vine arbors.  Small birds can easily scavenge the brambles but a hawk's wings cannot navigate there.  The birds are safer there.  My friends sometimes need a bit of protection and I am happy to provide it for them.

My "Spirit Animal"

  Just about daybreak, I heard the telltale scream of a red-tailed hawk just outside the back door.  That was enough for me to brave the chill and head out to find my friend.  This bird has been hanging about the Bayou for the past few months and has become quite familiar with me.  At times, the bird will even follow me about the yard as I do chores.  I am good with it as I have always held a fondness for hawks and this one is a beauty!  This morning, however, I could not find my friend.  I heard its screams but was at a loss as to where it was.  As I headed past the compost pile, the bird screamed again letting me know that it was in an oak tree behind the canebrake.  Ok...lets slip down that way. Rounding the canebrake, I heard the soft whirring of wings as the bird headed toward the Bay.  Oh, shoot!  Now I had to make my way through the garden and down the hillside.  Not that this is hard but I was barefoot and the temperature was in the 40s!  From the top of a pine tree, the bird screamed and headed back toward me.  I stopped.  The bird flew to the top of an oak nearby.  Ok...my feet were freezing!  Time to head back in and get my shoes.  

  Well once inside, I realized that the old dog needed to go out.  With camera slung on my shoulder, I hoisted the dog and headed out the front door.  My hawk had better be hanging around because it was going to take a few more moments before I could get back to it!  While Mr. PJ was doing his business, I, again, heard the whirring of wings and realized that the hawk had come to the tree behind me.  Oh, sweet!  After a few quick photographs, the session was over.  The old dog had to be toted back inside.  I bid my bird friend farewell for the time being.

  There are some legends that say red-tailed hawks are protectors of the world and that those who can befriend them (in any form) share their duties.  These folks also share the intuitiveness, the braveness and the fairness that the hawk represents.  I am not sure about all of that but I do feel that I have obtained a certain connection with this hawk. There is a mutual sense of respect between the two of us.  My "spirit animal" is a red-tailed hawk!  (Odd thing is...several years ago, one of those social media "tests" proclaimed that very same bird as my spirit animal.  According to that test, we both shared a keen insight into all that is around us.)  Sounds good to me.

Flying High!!

  Yesterday, Mark and I watched as a large bird flew overhead.  This bird was huge!  Ok, so as you probably already guessed, the camera was ever ready.  Our bird made a huge circle and then swooped low, low above us.  The only thought going through my head was the sheer magnificence of the sight before me.  Wow!  What beauty!

  The bird was a Red-tailed Hawk and was one of a pair that was circling overhead and then moved to over the Bayou.  This pair was on the hunt.  Watching them, started me thinking about hawks and other raptors.  Red-tailed Hawks have exceptional eyesight and can spy a tiny, field mouse from about 100 feet above ground.  They can swoop down, catch the mouse and be out of there in the blink of an eye.  Like all other raptors, even though they have excellent vision, they cannot move their eyes.  Raptors have to move their heads from side to side if they wish to see something other than what is in their immediate line of vision.  This is most obvious in owls who can turn their heads a full 270 degrees.  It makes me ponder if turning the head actually helps to focus???

  The Red-tailed hawk pair circled the Bayou and hillside for most of the afternoon. They were riding on the stiff south winds while hunting for their supper.  Hopefully, this pair will nest on the property and help with thinning the massive Grey Squirrel population that has been dumped in our laps by the clearing of nearby property.  

Something New On The Bayou

  About noon, I decided that the old dog needed a bit of exercise.  Lately, he wants to sleep.  Nothing else.  Sleep.  If he had his way, he would sleep 20 out of the 24 hours in a day.  I know he is ailing but too much sleep cannot be good.  So, a gentle walk with lots of rests may be what he needed.  At least, I would try.  It took nigh on a half hour to walk to the back of the house.  The path we took was only about 500 feet so it was definitely a slow-paced hike.  At one point, he plopped to the ground to nap.  This let me wander a bit without feeling like he was being pushed beyond his limit.  

  Suddenly, a high-pitched whistle sounded above my head.  High in an oak tree, I spied two nice sized birds.  The whistle was not familiar so, after checking the dog, I pushed through the underbrush to get a closer look.  Two hawks sat in the top of the tree.  As I neared, one flew to the creek bed while the other just eyed me curiously.  I did not recognize these two.  I am used to the Red-tailed Hawks and the Cooper's Hawks but this fine fellow was different.  I spent the next ten minutes trying to get a clear photo of the bird but the sunshine worked against me.  All I could get was shadows.

  The bird tired of me and flew off to find its mate and I headed back to retrieve the dog. (He was still napping and never missed me!)  Once inside, I examined my photos only to be disappointed with their quality.  The identity of the hawk was still up in the air.  Then, doing research, I came across a site that had the calls of certain hawks.  My fine feathered friends had a distinctive whistling call unlike the shrieking of the red-tails.  Tentatively, I have identified my new friends as Broad-winged Hawks!  This is exciting to me as I have not seen them in the area before.  I sure hope they decide to make the Bayou their home.  At least, this may give me the opportunity to get better photos and a sure-fire identity!  Also, if there are any experts out there that wish to give me a positive identity, I would definitely appreciate it!

Scared Stiff!

  Early this morning while I was outside painting the new screen doors, I heard a familiar sort of "cackle".  Ahh, yes, Friend Hawk was visiting.  It stands to reason that the hawk would be nearby because I had filled the squirrel...uh..bird feeders yesterday and a good dozen or so squirrels were munching the sunflower seeds.  Occasionally, a bird would get a chance to grab a morsel but, more oft than not, the squirrels would chase the birds.  A few birds had gotten smart and were searching the ground under the feeders for errant seeds from the squirrels' foraging.  (Squirrels are not the neatest diners.)  One smart bird was the Red-bellied Woodpecker.  The bird would hunt for a seed on the ground then poke it in a hole in the post to crack it.  

  Not only was the bird smart for finding food in this way, it was far wiser in another way.  As I heard the hawk cry, I turned to check the feeders.  I really did not want to have set the doves up for an easy massacre even though I love the little Cooper's Hawk.  Let that hawk catch a squirrel!  We have far too many of those rascally rodents.

  Nope, there was nary a bird in the feeder nor on the ground.  Even the squirrels had scampered to safety.  The only bird near the feeders was that woodpecker and it was playing it safe.  The hawk was on the south side of the feeders in an oak tree.  The woodpecker was on the north side of the post and was being as still and quiet as a church mouse.  I watched as the bird hunkered down close to the feeder's post.  Hmm?  I eased my way down the board path toward the feeder.  This movement made the hawk a bit skittish and it flew back toward the canebrake.  The woodpecker, however, was not moving a muscle!  It was scared stiff...or just being overly cautious.  If the technique worked against a hawk, perhaps it would work against this intruder (me), as well!

  I decided to let the woodpecker be and headed back to my painting.  After a bit, there was a bit of a skirmish in the feeders as the squirrels had returned and the woodpecker tried to chase them!  Smart bird.

Not The Most Pleasant

  Not every hike about the hillside is pleasant.  Sometimes, a find along the way can be saddening.  This morning, a pile of feathers meant that another songbird met its untimely death in the clutches of the Cooper's Hawk.  These hawks are amazingly agile hunters and can swoop in and out of tree branches without ever making contact with any.  This gives the hawk and almost unfair advantage over other birds.  A Cooper's Hawk rarely ever misses its target.  Besides using the speed and agility, the bird also relies upon stealth in its quest for a meal.   Just last year, I watched as a young hawk fly into the hickory tree just above the feeders.  Before dawn, it would take its station in the tree to await the songbirds that would come for breakfast.  Then, at daybreak, it would choose its prey and swoop down for an easy meal.

  I used to enjoy watching the birds come to the feeders but since the hawks have moved into the area, that is not an option.  It is not up to me to fatten the doves for a hawk's meal.  Now, the feeders sit empty and my songbirds have moved to other areas.  Perhaps, if the food source is removed, the hawks will find another breeding ground, as well.   My yard is not their diner!

  Finding the feathers this morning made me sad for the songbird but, in a weird (almost morbid) way, glad for the hawk.  If the hawk is able to catch prey, then it is healthy. I do enjoy watching the hawks but wish they would eat the voles that plague the garden instead of the songbirds that visit the feeders. 

Flying Monkeys and Redtail Hawks!

  I am always on the lookout for new friends....especially new critter friends.  The Bayou is great about having an endless supply of these critters, some familiar, some unknown.  The marshes, woods, waters and treetops are all homes for the animals.  This afternoon, my cousin and I were able to find many new friends but one in particular stood out as pretty spectacular.  

  It was late afternoon when we heard a loud screeching coming from the treetops beyond the Bayou.  From the west we could see a pair of very large birds fly above the pines.  It was not long before one of the pair decided to alight in one of the tall pines near the pier.  Aha!  A hawk was settling in for a bit and I was able to get a couple of photographs.  I tentatively identified the bird as a Red-tailed Hawk (mainly by the call as I could not see him well).  We watched the bird for some time as he watched us.  

  Later when I looked at the photographs, I noticed something a tad strange.  In the first picture, my hawk appeared to have a "monkey" face!  Wow!  My sweet cousin made the remark that it reminded her of the "flying monkeys" from the movie, "The Wizard of Oz".  Well, I promise that we do not have monkeys...flying or otherwise here on the Bayou!  

  I was a bit relieved to see that the oddity was nothing but a weird camera angle.  The rest of the photographs were fine.  The hawk seemed like an ordinary bird with an ordinary hawk face. I do have to admit that, though disconcerting at first glance, it may have been a bit interesting to have a flying monkey on the Bayou!

The Visitor

I occasionally write about my cousin, Michelle.  I stand in awe of her ability to befriend most any animal. She not only feeds a multitude of ducks and geese but, also, the squirrels, bluebirds, hummingbirds and any other critter that finds itself hungry. Why..she even holds the feeders for the hummers!  Critters just seem to know that she would never harm a one of them. 

A beautiful hawk that came to visit my cousin, Michelle.

Today, she took pictures of a hawk that visited her yard.  The bird flew around her while she was out walking as if begging to be her pal!  The hawk had no fear as it landed on her fence and even on the ground.  Whether this bird actually wanted to become friends or whether it was scouting for a free meal is anybody's guess. Perhaps it realized that with all of the other critters coming in for a meal, its quest for prey would be simple!  I am quite sure that the hawk would make quick work of one of the grey squirrels that raid the bird feeders!

A hawk visiting my cousin, Michelle's yard.  Notice the mockingbird that is sitting next to the hawk!  Such a great picture!

Still..knowing Michelle, it won't be long before she is holding the hawk.  Never one to fear any critter, she will most likely be friends with the bird by the end of the week!  What I want to see is how in the world she will make it understand that the other critters are off limits.  Will it be possible for her to convince a hawk to eat from the feeders side by side with the geese?  With Michelle..I would not put it past her.  If anyone can do it..she can! Keep in mind that she will pick up a copperhead snake or hand feed an alligator!  Yep, she does, indeed, have a way with the critters!

The pictures in this post were taken by Michelle Hengen and belong to her.  She was very kind to let me borrow them for your enjoyment.

Friends in High Places!

I had a visitor!  Yesterday morning, I was on the pier as usual.  I fished for a bit then headed back up toward the Little Bayou House.  As I neared the end of the pier, a large bird swooped down right in front of me!  At first, this startled me..not that I feared the bird but just the fact that something flew so close to me without warning.  The bird landed in a pine tree just about fifty feet in front of me.  A hawk!  There sat the most beautiful hawk!  It turned its head to watch my every move.  After a few pictures with an ornery camera (for some reason my lens kept clouding), I decided to leave the bird be and try to fix the contrary piece of equipment!

I walked up the board path while tinkering with the lens.  The bird followed!  I was a tad confused at its antics but at the same time secretly thrilled to know that it was not frightened by my presence.   As I headed into the Rose Garden where my comfy chairs are, the hawk continued to follow!  What is with this bird???  I wondered if it was in distress and was seeking aid.  Perhaps it knew that I would be happy to help it if necessary.  Just outside of the Rose Garden fence, there stands a dying Black Gum Tree.  I do not have the heart to cut it down since it houses a good many critters.  Today, this tree served as a perch for the hawk.  It sat staring down at me from its perch about twenty feet away.  Again, I was thrilled!

Tinkering with the camera and cleaning the lens seemed to do the trick.  With the bird now so close to me, I had to remove the zoom lens.  I was amazed that no matter how much I moved around the Rose Garden, the hawk never flinched..never acted skittish in the least.  I decided to see if it would follow me further around the yard.  My walk took me to the back side of the house.  Here were a number of citrus trees that would make maneuvering a bit difficult for the hawk.  The overhanging limbs were loaded with fruit and in places there was just a narrow pathway.  To my surprise (and delight!), the hawk followed.  Swooping in and out of the trees like a pro!  When I neared the canebrake, a number of Blue Jays noticed the hawk and let up a rousing round of squawks.  This called all of the other birds in the general area and soon there was such an uproar in the backyard that the hawk, after one last circle around me, flew off into the wooded area by the creek.  Wow!  What an experience!  Perhaps a once in a lifetime event!

Then come this morning..I was out preparing for the upcoming hurricane when I heard the whoosh of something above my head!  Oh, my goodness!  The hawk was back!  Again, it acted as if it was my friend!  It stayed close by as I gathered up the windchimes and hummingbird feeders.  Several times it sort of cocked its head and, for lack of a better word..chortled at me!  I began to wonder if it was hungry.  Being as this seems to be an immature Red-tailed Hawk, maybe it has not mastered the art of catching prey..surely it has..surely!  Anyway, the bird stayed near until once again, the Blue Jays started their raucous attack.  Go away, Blue Jays!  I want this bird as my friend!  Hope to see you tomorrow, Friend Hawk!

The Stakeout!

As I was filling the bird feeders yesterday morning, I made a morbid discovery. There scattered on the ground were feathers. At first, I thought perhaps the birds were moulting in the same manner that chickens do. This was sure a lot of feathers and all appeared to be from the same bird, a dove. Then the most disturbing find..a beak and a few bones. Ms Put! I was just recently noticing how she would pick a spot under the feeders to take a nap! A sleeping cat would not appear to be a threat to birds coming in for a meal. Still, this had happened sometime during the night..doubtful..or very early in the morning..most likely. Ms Put had spent the night inside and was still sound asleep on my daughter's bed. I hung the feeders and mulled over the possibilities of the culprit. A murder had been committed and I had almost falsely accused my kitty! A murder had been committed and I, by filling the feeders, had unwittingly lured a bird to its death. I grieved for my little friend.

I watched the feeders as I worked in the yard but nothing disturbed the birds. Of course, Ezzy, the dog kept a vigilant eye on the feeders as well. She does love her birds! All sorts of birds visited the feeders and the water dish. All seemed well in the avian world. Not one of them noticed that one of their own was missing. Or at least, it did not seem to upset any of the birds to the point that they lost their appetites. They cleaned the feeders! I thought to myself..perhaps (hopefully!) this was a one-time incident and the birds would not have to fear a serial killer. Darkness fell and I figured the birds would be safe enough during the night as none would be feeding.

This morning, I arose before daybreak to find a spot to position myself so I could view the feeders without being noticed by the marauding killer. I hoped that nothing would occur and I would not witness any disturbing scenes. I waited. The sky started to lighten in the East giving fair warning that a new day was about to debut. I waited. The songbirds were greeting the day with their usual happy songs. No sign of any trouble. I waited. One by one, birds flew to the feeding station. All seemed to be well, it was just another ordinary morning on the Bayou.

Then in the Hickory tree, I noticed a slight movement. The shape of a small hawk could be seen against the palely lit sky. Ahh, not Ms Put..but a much more dangerous villain. I could not make out enough detail to identify the raptor but I could tell that it was definitely watching for its breakfast. I sat still and waited. Should I watch as another bird falls prey to this hunter? Should I chase it away? The hawk is a natural predator to all birds but I do feel a tad guilty that I am fattening up doves just to have them slaughtered. I realize that the hawk must eat and later it must feed its brood, still..

In reality, the yet unidentified hawk is rather smart. Obviously, it positions itself in the Hickory tree above the feeders late in the evening so it will be on the ready to catch its breakfast. There, it could sit motionless, unseen, as the birds gathered below. I will leave it be for now, until I can get a positive ID on the bird. It is a smallish hawk and I can tell it has markings on it undersides from the picture, but until I can see it in the light of day, identification is difficult. If any readers have suggestions of how to effectively protect the songbirds while not harming the hawk, I would love to hear them! Perhaps I should build a feeder with a large roof??? Until then, I suppose I will have to deal with an occasional mound of feathers and other body parts.

Now..onto the day's find in the sewing room! The picture just shows a small part of a massive quantity of ....rug yarn! Nice little bundles of three inch snippets of yarn in assorted colors. This would be a boon to find if I knew how to do latchhook but for someone that crochets, I view it as a waste of good thread! This is one of those.."just where did this come from" items that was stashed in a plastic storage box and forgotten. This is one of those."now what do I do with it" items that takes up a lot of space but is never used. Too good to discard..too "un-useful" to keep! Hmmmmm..

Nevermore!

Ok, so Edgar Allan Poe was writing about the lost love of Lenore and was supposedly talking to a raven but the word rather fit the photographs of today. Maybe not though, since this was redwing blackbirds, not ravens and there was not a dearly departed Lenore. But somehow, the scene reminded me of Poe's poem..odd? Yes, but the fact remains that it did and I have been reciting the poem in my head since this morning..

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary. Over many quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping. As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 'Tis some visitor', I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-only this and nothing more.' "

This has been going through my head all day..I do not ever remember actually having to learn the poem..it is just one of those weird things that pops in the head and is impossible to shake out! I do know that it is not exactly a poem that I would recite at Christmastime..Halloween, maybe..but Christmas?

I had just filled the feeders for the birds this morning and set a few pans of seed on the ground for the doves, when I heard the fluttering of wings. I was happy to think that the doves were already settling in for breakfast before I had even reached the house. I turned to look at the feeders...whoa! Not doves but blackbirds.. redwinged blackbirds.. everywhere! There was probably a good twenty-five or thirty of the ebony birds happily devouring every seed in sight. I stood watching them, snapping a few pictures.. so that is who has been stealing the birdseed before my doves could eat! A never-ending stream of blackbirds was fluttering out of the marsh.. all straight for my feeders. Then suddenly.. none.. they had made a hasty retreat to the oak trees. Confused by this behavior, I watched. What had happened? They were eating so happily one minute and the next they were sitting silently in the branches. Thinking maybe Ms Put had made an appearance or perhaps a raccoon wandered in, I peered through the rose bushes. I saw nothing..still the birds did not return. Then the shadow..ahh..that question was

answered! Just above the trees, a hawk circled round and round the feeders. It was hunting breakfast, too! The buffet had been set with blackbirds for a few minutes but was now bare. I stood admiring the hawk until it soared off over the Bayou searching for some other prey. It had missed its chance at the "Blackbird Buffet". As soon as it was "All Clear" the blackbirds were back with a vengeance! They stayed until all the feeders were empty and then back to the marsh! My poor doves had waited patiently but to their disappointment, nothing was left for them. I hastily refilled the feeders and pans and scooted back indoors as I was quickly getting chilled.

It was cold this morning, I have to admit that. The trek to the pier was one of frost and ice. All along the marsh edge was a thin layer of ice. Again, the north wind had pushed the tide out well past the pier leaving little frozen tide pools on the mudflats. Out on the flats, searching for their breakfast were several Killdeers. These small birds were running about screeching at each other and any other intruder..me! I have been hearing them at night doing the same screeching..it seems they never sleep! (Nor do they want me to sleep!) I like these little birds but I do wonder about their name..Killdeer. Hopefully, they are named after some guy that discovered them and not for some bizarre habit they have of going around killing hapless deer! Some cold, rainy day, that might be a good research project..find out how they got their names! Killdeer...hmmph!