That’s my backyard bird bath this morning. It was chilly here, actually downright cold. When I awoke it was 15º F. The birds are flocking to my feeders in great numbers and who can blame them? I can barely comprehend how they manage to survive in such weather but clearly good nutrition is a part of it. Just yesterday I was talking with my neighbor about bird bath heaters. She was talking about the need to get her’s in place and I was marveling that such an item existed. It never occurred to this Florida girl but I’ve already been to Amazon.com to check it out and this morning certainly confirms the need for such a device. There are some technical issues to resolve, however. So, for the next few days at least, my feathered-friends will have to try skating. Thankfully the weather is forecast to moderate and by the weekend we will be back in the 60s. ❧
Previous posts have included pictures of the American Goldfinches who have graced my feeder throughout the summer (Image #141). Now it is mid-fall and mating colors are gone . I learned today that the American Goldfinch is the only finch to undergo a complete moulting process. So the bird in this picture could be the same as the bird in Image #141. But American Goldfinches are also migratory so this may be an entirely different bird. This bird, according to The Sibley Guide to Birds, is a an adult, non-breeding. While not as dramatic as the male American Goldfinch in his mating finery he is still a very handsome bird. ❧
The variety of birds at my feeder has narrowed to about 6-10 varieties. The White-breasted Nuthatch is one of them and he is a surprisingly cooperative subject. The Titmouse and Chickadee are frenetic and move too quickly to grab the right focus. But this little fellow looked right at the camera and smiled. Don’t you agree? ❧
Frequent followers will have figured out by now that this summer, for me, has been a photographic love affair with mushrooms. That’s my buddy, Tango, sitting between two spectacular blooms of mushrooms in the patch of land that Boni & Gail call “the meadow,” at the top of Fawn Hill. This picture was just three weeks ago. On the right is an, as yet, unidentified stand. They may be Velvet Foot but I’m not sure. On the left is our spectacular friend, Jack O’Lantern. Tango’s presence gives a good sense of scale. These are not small ‘shrooms.
Three weeks may not seem like much time but, believe me, it is a long time ago. There have been many changes. The most dramatic and heart-wrenching were detailed in my previous post, Image #143. My friend Gail is slipping, bit-by-bit, into that abyss from which there is no return…at least none that we can know. She has talked of the bright light at the foot of her bed. A Reiki master, who came and gave Gail great comfort on Sunday, spoke of the “bright blue light” that is next to Gail. Change is coming…
On a larger scale, the air is cooler now, frosts are frequent and the leaves have fallen with a thud that announces “CHANGE!” Sigh …. it is inescapable. Throughout the summer months we trick ourselves somehow, we believe the days, long and lingering, will go on forever. But change is here and in these northern climes it is ever so much more present. Perhaps that is why the elderly love Florida so much. Change is harder to see and there is a sense that change is being held at bay. As humans we generally hate change and yet, ironically, it is the only thing of which we can be absolutely sure.
And speaking of change, frequent followers will note some changes on this website. I have finally figured out how to create galleries for my pictures. You can find them in the right-hand column. So far I have posted two — one with birds and the other with, what else, mushrooms. I hope you enjoy this chance to view just the pictures but, of course, I also hope you will stop to read the words. After all, words matter. ❧
That’s Tango, posing nicely by a pretty autumnal sugar maple in nearby West Macon Track. This was one week ago and I have no doubt the leaves have all disappeared. It’s happening a lot these days. A cold front moved through on Thursday night with high winds and about .5 inches of rain. But the cold air got hung up on the west side of the mountains and this delightful, almost hallucinogenic, warm air slipped in between the cold air and the rain making Friday a spectacular day. Indian Summer… Leaves were everywhere, on the ground, in great quantities. Tree limbs were black and naked, reaching towards a cobalt blue sky. The scents were earthy and the air was soft.
These are days we’ll remember (apologies to Natalie Merchant). Not just for the sunshine and falling leaves but for the extraordinary miracles of life and death that once again grace our life. On the hilltop above my home is the dying form of my friend Gail…life partner of a life-long friend, Boni. Just three weeks ago, after a summer of decline, Gail was diagnosed with terminal cancer. A return engagement of lung cancer that tried to take her life eight years ago. Conquered then, the demon is back and this time it will succeed.
But success is not necessarily triumph. It is Gail’s spirit that is triumphant. Death will take her…but it will take us all. It is not the taking but rather HOW we are taken. Gail’s smiles, her peace, her continuing sense of humor, her love for Boni and her many friends, … her grace. This is the triumph. ❧
In Western North Carolina the leaves are peaking, in many areas they are already past. I have visited this region several times during autumn and, without doubt, the colors are stunning. But now I live here and the eye, like a microscope, always rachets down one or two stops, looking for the intricacies, wanting to know more about the total picture. So today, a truly glorious day in WNC, I set out from my front door and quickly found the impetus of these thoughts. It is everywhere around me–the intricacies of life, the turning of the seasons. This maple leaf tells the tale–red, green, brown; cobwebs, mimicking the fabric of space, and insect-produced black holes, portending a deeper being; the red portion looking like a Google map of a subdivision, any subdivision; the brown giving promise to its ultimate future. “Everything is on its way to somewhere else,” George Malley. ❧
These guys are such frequent flyers at my birdfeeders. My Audubon Field Guide states the titmouse “are social birds and, especially in winter, join with small mixed flocks of chickadees, nuthatchers, kinglets, creeper, and the smaller woodpeckers.” Well, spot on Audubon! ! That perfectly describes my feeders just now. Mix in purple finches and cardinals and you have the Fawn Hill bird mix of the moment. I’ve been told that juncos will arrive but I remember in Washington, D.C. that the juncos arrived only when it was truly cold to the north. Perhaps the same is true here. ☙
Like Halloween caviar, the Carnival Candy Slime fungi brightens the base of a rotting tree in Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest. Carnival Candy Slime!!! Where do these mushroom specialists come up with these names?? Its Latin name is Arcyria denudata. I may not have it correctly identified and encourage any slime lovers out there to set me straight if I have the name wrong. A truly spectacular growth, whatever its name might be. ☙
According to the National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Mushrooms, “The Stalked Hairy Fairy Cup is one of a number of very small, beautiful cup fungi that are covered with hairs.” Enough said? This dainty life form lives on a tree at Wayah Bald, NC — 5,000 feet up, very exposed to extremes and very beautiful. ☙
Alice's WanderLand 