Wild Iris

Monday. Rain or shine, the critters of Hideaway Pond have banned “blue Mondays” from their little enclave. So beautiful weather has smiled on the Hideaway for the last three days.

And Mother fawns over the weekend. The first was with its mother in the high grass near Howe’s Bayou, a small nook in the back edge of the pond. It was roughly a couple weeks old and doing well, though nearly hidden by the weeds.

The second faun appeared with its mother. Mom strolled casually from the ledge to the adjoining woods, seemingly paying no attention to the fawn. Seen one, seen ‘em all, I suppose, if one is a more mature doe. I wouldn’t know. Meanwhile, the tiny little guy/lady struggled to keep up in the high grass. A moving target and hard to photograph. But we let no task deter us, regardless of personal challenge and pending pain.

A tiny one suddenly showed up in the deep woods behind the house yesterday. It was only a few hours old and probably as much of a surprise to its mother as it was to us. And nursing at the time. They’re born hungry. Unfortunately, junior chose mom’s wrong faucet for a good photo. But I’m sure mom did the best she could. And so did we.

A small rabbit has won my lovely bride’s heart. And has been tagged by her with the unfortunate name, “Bugs”. A bad hare day–so to speak.

Two pairs of geese splashed down at sunset on Saturday. They took flight again in about a half hour. A short, picturesque stop for a quick breather from the long aerial trek north to Nunavut. It’s a daunting endeavor. I’d take a break too.

Another puzzling surprise. A solitary male mallard has lately been checking in and out of Holiday Pond. It dropped in briefly on Saturday afternoon and lifted off to the east at sunset. Perhaps its compass is broken. It returned in early afternoon yesterday, circumnavigated the island several times and disappeared into the weeds near the ledge. And there it remains, as far as I know. Best it doesn’t stay too long or my lovely bride will give it a name too. One that may not be to its liking, regardless of her best intentions. The avian highway north is still open to aerial traffic. It will soon close with the wane of migration season. Something to which our mallard friend might give a little bit of thought.

In the wake of departing forsythia and daffodils, the rhododendron, crab apple and lilies of the valley are quietly announcing the month of June. Meanwhile, a bumble bee has dropped in for a quick shot of nectar. Down the hatch.

And the wild iris have bloomed on the edges of the pond. Their purple blossoms make a fine reflective necklace, briefly lent to Hideaway Pond from Mother Nature‘s jewelry box.

The turtles, bon vivants that they are, pause in their feverish pace to smell the flowers. And snooze nearby in the warm rays of the sun.

Thus passes another quiet Monday on Hideaway Pond. Sans blue.

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