About This Winter

Only dustings of snow. Only brief intermittent frozen rains here, not enough to endanger us (downstate was a different story). It's as if (so far) winter here has hesitated to speak, out of politeness, so as not to interrupt our important activities.

Yesterday I led our "spiritual group" on the topic of raising our vibrations to attract our "perfect mate." We had fun listing the many fine qualities of the him or her just about to arrive, who is looking for someone just like us. I brought unicorn and princess valentines enough for all and wished everyone Happy Valentine's day.

Only one sprinkling of salt has been necessary on the concrete steps this winter. And. . . already the bluebirds are back, very active, and they love to have families in my bluebird box and I can hardly wait. Happy Valentine's Day. Happy day every day. Love is everywhere and spring is gaining momentum.

Moving Into His New House

When a tall person visited on March 9, I got his help taking down the old bluebird house, all weatherbeaten and cracked top to bottom, and mounting a brand-new one. Then, with an eye out for those house wrens who load up bluebird houses with sticks and thorns just to be ornery, I watched for a week, then two weeks, and was finally rewarded this morning as I sat in the spring sun drinking tea. Male bluebirds sit atop a bluebird house and flap their wings to attract their mates' attention. If she approves of the dwelling, she creates the nest and they go for it. Bluebirds are shy, so when this one saw me he fled the bluebird house and perched in a tree. I dream all year of this moment when the first bluebirds first nest in the bluebird house and I am the host and witness. This new bluebird box has a hinged side secured with a hook and eye--good design for box cleaning or nest viewing. It's raw pine. You can see it on the right, on the  old wooden post, which is 7 feet high. The downward-curved thing on the post is chicken wire to keep critters from crawling up the post to feast on bluebirds or their eggs. During previous birdhouse cleanings I've found lifeless blacksnakes and live bees in the box. I don't visit or handle the box very often, because that leaves a scent trail that might attract predators.

Three Kinds of Prairie Blue

Nature news from the Shaw Nature Reserve, where I took a morning walk yesterday with a group called Wednesday Walkers, a self-selected group of people with time for about a two-mile walk, led by a nature instructor, along one of the many paths in the Reserve's 2800 acres of mixed prairie, forest, wetlands, rocky cliffs and glades. We chatted and asked questions as we walked. I heard that 2013 had been an excellent year for bluebirds. Volunteers maintain the Reserve's many birdhouses (pictured: Apartment #74) and count the eggs and babies. In 2013, exactly 203 chicks were hatched in the Reserve's bluebird boxes; 180 of them were bluebirds. "What were the rest?" I asked. "Finches and sparrows," was the answer.

As we walked, sun beating down on a shadeless path cut through stiffly waving five-foot native prairie grasses, someone asked, "What kind of grass is this?"

"Bluestem. If you look way down the stem, toward the ground, the stems are blue." Wow! (Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) is, by the way, the state grass of Missouri.)

"And what are these?" I asked when I saw strange but somehow familiar black walnut-sized pods among the five-foot prairie grasses.
"Wild indigo." Snapping the stem when the wild indigo is young yields blue juice that can be used to dye cloth, a discovery the Indians shared with the European settlers. The seed pods aren't really black; they're dark blue, and they look familiar because florists use them in autumn arrangements and wreaths.

Fledge

A curious young being, so young it isn't blue yet, peeks out of my bluebird box. I would love to know its thoughts about the green and blue world outside the box. Tomorrow I will try for another photo.

Photographing Bluebirds

When I see a blue streak and flutter out of the corners of my eyes, I will neglect all else in life to let you know the bluebirds are raising their second brood of the 2013 season in my bluebird box.

At a day course taught by a Missouri state nature photographer I learned that to photograph wild creatures I should make myself inconspicuous. Animals are threatened by the human shape, so he used to shoot photos from his truck with a huge telephoto lens. With my simpler equipment all I did was put on a hat and baggy clothes of that greenish-brown worn-out sort, and set up my tripod. "What's the difference between an amateur and a professional photographer?" he asked rhetorically. "A tripod." And -- as he advised us -- I waited. He said "If the animal was there before, it'll come back again. So just wait." Sweat  and wait, sweat (94 degrees; but how hot must it be inside the bluebird box?) and wait. This, my best bluebird photo yet, was fortuitiously taken on the day of summer solstice. Happy summer solstice!

Now I Ask You Very Confidentially,

Ain't he nice? Patrick's mowed my lawn now twice. He does it to perfection, doesn't cut any corners on these complicated, sloping grounds, uses a weed trimmer for those hard-to-reach places like beneath the hickory tree's hanging branches and around the satellite post, and today brought me a bag of blackberries picked on his farm. The bluebirds love him. Bluebirds can hunt only in short grass because they eat by pinning their insect or worm prey to the earth. Patrick is my neighbor's son, and he mows her lawn too, although mine's the bigger job, about an acre. He said next time he will bring along his own son.

As The Sun Slowly Sinks into the Mud. . .

I aint complaining! It's the January thaw about three weeks late; 74 degrees today. Holy to hear the rush of water through the property's waterfalls Number 1, 2, and 3 (there are five). Yesterday in the woods, the snow parted to reveal patches of chives on a north-facing slope. To me they are the second real sign of spring. So today, slipping and sliding in inch-deep mud, I harvested some chives and scissored them into a bowl of carrot soup dolloped with yogurt and eaten with homemade rye bread.

Even better news: A bluebird pair has inspected and approved my bluebird box. I saw them this morning for the first time and my heart became a big bouquet of roses.

And at 5:30 p.m., as I turned away from photographing this mango-colored sunset, I saw in the east a big beautiful pearly full moon. What a wonderful world.

Vitamin D

Doc said, “You’re low on Vitamin D.” Me??! Just combine sunscreen, long pants and sleeves, a solidly rainy October, shorter daylight, aging, drinking rice milk not dairy milk, being too busy, and days too dark or too wet to hike or chop weeds. He prescribed 5000-unit capsules, one weekly for 6 weeks. Also I’d better quit runnin’ ‘round and get more sun and rest. So I sat outside in the sun to drink coffee this morning and saw my bluebird pair. Maybe the box looks like a nice place to spend winter. Recent migrants: white-throated sparrow (I heard it) and yellow-rumped warbler (I saw it). And juncos have arrived. Don't be like me; take time out to sun yourself and live life.

Bluebird Box Mystery Solved

A bluebird pair flitted back and forth and checked out my bluebird box. But they didn't settle. By now they should have lived there a month. But no.

I'd cleaned the box in early March but decided to take it down off the pole to see if a snake might be coiled in there (as there once was) or if it might be filled with thorny sticks, courtesy of a jealous house wren. As I picked the box off the pole I heard a faint buzzing.

Strange. I listened. More buzzing, like a very faint dial tone. If I'd been carrying a cellphone I would have thought that might be it.

Opened the box top and teased out a partially completed yellow-teacup bluebird nest -- topped by wads of tangly moss, still green. This I poked all apart, finding nothing.

Went and planted some spinach. Returned to spot and saw a fat, fuzzy, good-sized bumblebee dazedly crawling out of the moss, getting its bearings and then finally feeling good enough to lift off into the universe.

Look Who's Here to Cheer

In these dreary days counting down to the Solstice (not so far away) some vivid color is thrilling. Today I saw -- the bluebird pair! They often winter here, but not in the box. Maybe this year?

Bluebirds

Lady Bluebird has accepted her mate's choice of dwelling -- fortunately it's the one in the meadow right outside my dwelling -- and now they're flying back and forth, selecting yellow grasses and bringing them into the box to build their always-exquisite teacup-sized nest. Here she is, in a picture just taken 20 minutes ago, catching a breath between shopping trips. First Bluebird Sighting is a joyous landmark in the year -- a living greeting card from Nature.

About 4 weeks from now this box will overflow with baby bluebirds. Last week I finished cutting away all tall brush from the area to discourage predators. Now I should mow the grass down to a crew-cut, because bluebirds do their best hunting in short grass, and they'll need to hunt all day every day when the babies hatch.