The Morning View, Far and Near

The sun rose on a very gray day, with a dense ground fog obscuring the view across the lake. It was thick enough that Mercer Island completely disappeared from view. The world outside the bedroom window took on the color of dryer lint, a mottled mat of wispy, twisted gray strands. The fog gradually thinned, drifting south on a light breeze, and within the hour The Mountain, Mt. Rainier, was visible again far away in the distance.

These two cormorants spent most of the day perched atop the piling; sleeping, preening and spreading their wings as if to catch the sun as it burned through the fog.This pair remained on those same piling from dawn until 3:00pm, without flying away or diving to fish. When do they eat? 

Eventually the sun broke through and Seattle enjoyed another blue sky day, but I missed most of it. The Seahawks game kept me indoors in front of the television. (Go Hawks!) Maybe tomorrow will bring another sunny day.

A Busy Week in the Neighborhood

There's never a good time to suffer through the flu, but this week was the best time to recover from Flu: Round Two. I had planned on hours of television time, watching Sochi Winter Olympic events, clicking from station to station on US and Canadian channels. I did some of that, but there's only so much curling I can view before dozing off.

No chance of dozing when the rumble of heavy equipment invades the neighborhood. Vroom, vroom! Thud! Crash! More vroom, vroom! Chunk by chunk a neighbor's house disappeared, knocked down by one man with a tracked Komatsu machine with a toothed bucket. Demolition is noisy and exciting. 

The next day the world outside my window turned black and white, blanketed by a light dusting of snow. Such a lovely visual gift, though not appreciated by anyone who had to traverse Seattle's hills on that day. It was a good day to stay inside and enjoy the view, in between naps and Olympic events. 

Later in the week I thought it curious that a group of crows kept doing power dives past the upstairs window, flashing by close to my reading chair. Local crows are known to pester osprey and eagles in flight, just for fun or hoping to steal something edible. It's hard to ignore large, winged objects hurtling past your head just feet away so I stepped to the window to check out the action. What a circus as crow after crow swooped down to harass an osprey that had landed in a neighboring yard. Oops! one young crow might have misjudged his approach and was now captured - osprey prey - soon to be osprey dinner.  

This was quite an interesting week in the neighborhood. Flu recovery wasn't at all boring.  

Fall Color at Coulon Park

The lure of a warm, blue-sky Fall day was irresistible, so we headed out for a sunny walk through Gene Coulon Park. This impromptu visit to a favorite waterfront park might have been our last opportunity to enjoy 2013's changing colors since, WHAM! Mother Nature is switching gears tonight. At least we had a glimpse of that Autumn display, before the last of those colorful leaves blow away in the upcoming storm. There's no way most of those fluttering leafy bits will hang on after the next few days of wet, windy, cold weather. I know, I know... it happens every November, but I hate to trade this vivid leafy beauty for the drama of storms and stark tree silhouettes. At least until a wonderful Winter walk reminds me how much I love the quiet beauty of that season.

Photo: Green leaves turn to gold...

Photo: Yellow leaves shine like spotlights in the landscape...

Photo: Neon colors are show-stoppers in the landscape...

Photo: Coulon Parks's buildings are wonderfully eye-catching

Photo: The park's sailing fleet is put away for the winter.

Photo: Bare tree limbs reveal an interesting nest - I wonder whose home?

Photo: Year-round resident Canadian geese look well-fed and content 

Photo: Local gulls are quite fearless and cheeky as they beg for food

Photo: Ivar's fish and chips plus seafood chowder is a traditional stop at the end of a park visit... unless we are tempted by neighboring Kidd Valley's burgers instead.

Coulon Park in January, 2011

Coulon Park in November, 2008

Osprey in the Yard

More precisely, the osprey was in a tree, but just barely. How DID that large bird balance all of its bulk on the slender, flexible, topmost leader branch of our cedar tree? and WHY was he in the area? Neighbor Marcie reports that osprey are common around the lake, sighting them frequently near the Rowing Center. How is it that this is the first osprey we have ever seen or heard locally?  An osprey's call is distinctive, loud and piercing enough to draw the attention of even non-birding humans. It was this repeated high-pitched call (link) that prompted us to stop and look up. The bird remained in place for ages, perched comfortably atop a 65-foot tree, long enough for us to grab the cameras and snap off a series of shots to use for identification. 

The wicked-looking curved beak indicated the bird was a flesh-eating raptor, but it definitely was not an eagle or a hawk. A comparison of our shots with some bird book photos and several on-line images indicated it was an osprey (Pandion haliaetus). Click here for a brief but interesting article about osprey. 

For some impressive still images of osprey in flight, visit Graham Owen's website, or check out this brief BBC YouTube video of an osprey fishing (link). These birds are impressive, sitting still or in motion. Capturing an image of an airborne osprey might become a new photo challenge, paired with my ongoing effort for improved eagle action images (link). 

Fast Pheasant Footwork

In recent weeks I've caught a brief glimpse of some long-tailed, two-legged critter dashing along the fence line, infrequent sightings that were more a blur of motion rather than a real sighting. What was that quick-darting thing? Today a pair of squabbling squirrels must have distracted the bird, causing it to pay less attention to me as I sneaked outside with iPhone in hand, trying to capture an image. 

My motion made him cautious, nervous about the antics of the squirrels and wary of my approach. He darted under the rhododendrons, turned toward the squirrels, reversed and headed back toward the lake and finally took flight, clearing the fence and landing two yards away. 

The photos are blurry, but they definitely show a common or ring-necked pheasant (link) racing toward the lake. Now I'm curious to know more about this species, unusual in my immediate neighborhood but common throughout the Pacific Northwest. Did this guy escape from a penned or netted enclosure? Does he live in nearby Seward Park? Will he ever return now that I have startled him? 

Signs... and sounds... of Spring

Spring made an official appearance yesterday, accompanied by sunshine and mild weather. My daffodils are in full-bloom, a few early tulips add their vibrant color to the yard, and the fruit trees are in full-flower. All of that adds sunshine to the soul and puts a smile on my face... even though it's tax season. Today Seattle wears a misty gray cloak and Mt. Rainier is hidden by rainclouds, a typically changeable weather pattern for March in Seattle, but the colors of Spring still decorate the landscape.

The sounds of Spring are another story. The tap-tap-tap of hammers and the buzz of an air compressor greet us at 8:00 a.m. five days a week. Yes, the remodel next door continues, filling our usually quiet neighborhood with construction activity... and trucks... and dumpsters... and a bright green port-a-potty. The crew is efficient, the jobsite is tidy, and it is interesting to watch the structure change.

Spring must have a sense of humor, though I'm not laughing. For several years now Spring has sent us visitors, unwelcome guests who attempt to move into the house via an exterior opening for the clothes dryer vent! The spring that closes the small flapper door must be a weak design, because the birds seem to have easy access every year. 

Noisy bird chirps, very noisy and very nearby, are the first clue as the adults explore the opening. Next comes the scritching and scraping sounds of swallows hopping along the flexible six-inch diameter plastic tube. If ignored for just a day or two, the final clue would be strings and strands of grasses, nest-building supplies, hanging down the outside wall. You can laugh, but it's not funny to me. I have bad dreams imagining the swallows pecking through the plastic pipe and invading the house to nest in comfort somewhere inside. So I turn on the dryer and blast them out whenever I hear bird noises. Tiny bird brains must not remember that exciting event from year to year. I also pester the husband a lot until he drags out the big extension ladder and tacks an square of chicken wire over the dryer vent opening - unsightly but not as messy as a bird's nest would be.     

A New Year's Walk in the Park

2011 began with a series of cold, clear days. This weather felt like a gift; no one in Seattle takes January sunshine for granted. I appreciated the timing too, having recently added walking to my PT exercises for a new knee. We usually walk in the neighborhood or at a local park. The recent sunshine prompted a drive to Coulon Park at the south end of Lake Washington, a favorite, scenic location. (see previous post)


We had a lot of company on Sunday. The park was full of people out jogging, strolling, biking, heading for the shoreside restaurants, taking photos, sailing model boats or just enjoying the sunshine. Our intended 30-minute walk turned into a full hour of walking plus 30 more minutes for photography. Brrrrr, it was chilly but a terrific way to begin the year. Check out a few of the sights...


How's this for a blue-sky view?

At first I focused on the sailboat fleet, winterized and idle until late Spring...

...and then gazed through the rigging and marveled at the peaks to the north.

This small, radio-controlled sailboat looked like he would crash into the dock...

...but the man with the controller box maneuvered it away just in time, again and again. That sailboat really flew over the water!

The shoreline always hold something of interest...

...like this fallen tree. Would the wind knock down just one tree?

No, not the wind, this looks like the work of a beaver. He was ambitious to tackle a tree of this size/length.

The park has a no-feeding policy for the ever-present birds, ducks and geese. They all look healthy and well-fed from natural sources. I'll bet the occasional  slice of bread or restaurant French Fry finds it's way into the water too.

The End. Corny, I know, I know, but I just couldn't resist.

More Hummingbird Action

It was too icy and slippery for me to venture outside in the yard, but I didn't miss it. I loved watching the bird feeder action from my perch on the stair landing or at the kitchen table. The temperature had dropped below freezing, the snow piled up and I wondered why hummingbirds with any sense remained in town when they could be basking in the SW sunshine and warmth. Then the sun came out and our two resident Rufous hummingbirds appeared pretty content, fluffed up for insulation against the cold wind, but as content as two irascible hummers ever look. 

Hummingbirds can be extremely territorial when it comes to protecting a food source and these two were no exception. I wish I had a video of their dive bombing runs and dizzying aerials as each bird sought to drive off the competition and claim the feeder for itself. There were brief moments when both birds paused, sipped from opposite sides of the feeder, and then resumed the battle. The dominant bird finally rested on a branch or rope, maintaining a vigilant guard against interlopers.

Bird Feeder Action

This morning's snowfall was a treat, especially since we didn't have to drive anywhere today. While I gazed out the kitchen window, marveling at the beauty and leisurely enjoying a cup of tea, a flurry of motion caught my eye. One of the resident hummingbirds did repeated fly-bys, checking out the empty branch where he expected a winter feeder. Oops! how could I forget my bird feeder duties?!

RL did the footwork on the snowy deck, and will have to do early morning duty for the rest of the week. The feeder will freeze overnight, and a backup container is ready to be swapped in. The problem? the birds wake up hours before we do, and they get a little noisy and aggressive when you keep them waiting. I know that feisty feeling, if my breakfast and that first cup of tea are delayed. 

The View from the Window

I have been home for two weeks with my brand new knee, spending most of my time exercising, applying ice, walking laps around the house, napping a lot and sitting in a chair for no more than 30 minutes at a time. Limited to one or two trips downstairs per day, I spend a lot of time gazing out the second story windows. This local eagle looks like a kindred spirit, favoring his right leg but ready to launch.

I may not be ready to fly for a while (or run or jump or dance), but I can hardly wait until I can drive! 

City Snow

What is it about winter weather that turns the kitchen into a comfort food prep station? The snowy cold weather this week triggered non-stop simmering of soups, stews, chili and the like. Then the fragrance of homemade bread, and even (gasp!) a cake or two perfumed the air and prompted numerous taste tests.  Hmmm, good… still good… even better with drizzles of honey butter. While we enjoyed every bite, we don't need the extra pounds or padding that are part of the comfort food package. Perhaps we’ll just get fluffy, and sleek down again in early spring. It works for our local hummingbirds, just check out the difference shown below in the winter and spring photos!

My primary outdoor exercise this week has been trudging across the snowy kitchen deck to refill the bird feeders. Hummer nectar freezes, so the feeder overnights inside in the kitchen. At 6:30 a.m. one hummingbird is usually perched on a branch waiting for his breakfast. If I don’t arrive until 7:00 a.m. the impatient bird lets me know I am late, buzzing my head and scolding with loud chitters. Let me sleep in and delay until 7:30 and the bird lands on the feeder base while I hang it up. I don’t understand birdspeak but I suspect it is a rude complaint.

Snow fell Tuesday from 4:00 a.m. until 10:00 p.m. (maybe later but I went to bed), with fat, heavy flakes dropping a curtain over the distant landscape and filling the air like the steam in a shower. Mercer Island and Renton disappeared from view. Even the bird feeders disappeared. After repeated trips to clear the nectar bottle holes I rigged a towel shelter that deflected much of the snowfall. The wind flapped the towel a bit, but the motion did not discourage the hummers for long. They buzzed it, hovered above and below it, and finally ignored it to land on the feeder and to loiter on tree branches under it's shelter.

Two Anna’s hummingbirds are regulars - yearlong residents in the neighborhood and winter diners at my feeder. The dominant bird vigorously drives off his companion so they rarely feed together but last night at dusk four hummingbirds fed at the same time. One tiny bird kept his long bill inserted into a feeder hole for over three minutes… I was sure he was frozen to the base. A second bird dipped his bill in and out, sharing the same opening, but bird number one never moved. Eventually they all zoomed off to wherever they spend the night. 

   

A Walk in the Park

Any fall day without a rainstorm is an invitation to enjoy a walk. Not a power walk, certainly not a jog, but a move-it-along walk until something of interest stops us. We carried the cameras today so it took longer than usual to cover the length of Coulon Park... and wander back to the car again.

Fall's final colors, the yellows and golds, still hang on while the reds and oranges have fallen and now lay crinkled and scattered along the paths. What a visual treat, and such a temptation to kick up leaf piles like a kid. On sunny days the trees are cloaked in a haze of neon color. Today it was merely colorful, but who cared? it wasn't raining. 

Very few other walkers met us or passed by on the path today, so we enjoyed the company of a variety of birds. Canadian geese, mallards and mixed breed ducks, coots, mergansers, loons and seagulls cruised, dove and fed along the shoreline. My favorites? A small flock of crows clowning around in the trees. They challenged each other with calls and swooping mock aerial attacks. Their chatter and cawing only slowed a bit when I approached with my camera. Heads swiveling, beady eyes watchful, those corvids weren't bothered at all by advancing humans.