The Feathered Front

Monday. A persistent northerly cold front brought with it bright skies and wind scattered clouds late last week. It pushed before it a dark overcast and a brief interlude of heavy windless rain, turning the surface of the pond into a vision of hammered pewter. A shy sun returned for the weekend.

Mother Nature’s late spring mood swings seem to have inspired in the Hideaway critters a spate of frenetic activity.

On the feathered front, some small birds of unidentified lineage have moved into our long vacant duck house. Perhaps they’re as baffled by the question of their parentage as we are. We fear for their safety, as my lovely bride has spotted a large black snake nearby. Che sera. Every drama needs a villain.

And a pair of Carolina wrens has made a home in one of our hanging begonia baskets. Another family of eggs that will hatch with an identity crisis. Watering, of course, will be an existential issue for our small bird children. Hopefully, they won’t take root.

A great blue heron, or “Harry”, as it’s known in local circles, dropped gracefully in with today‘s sunrise. It fished from shore near the ledge. It then tried its luck from the island. Not sure whether it had any luck. It wouldn’t have told the truth anyway. We all know that fishermen hone exaggeration with the precision of a diamond cutter.

A final bird word. Much to our surprise, a solitary female mallard splashed down in mid-morning. She’s well behind the published migration train schedules. Perhaps she and her missing mate were victims of the treacherous duck hunters who lurk behind their blinds across the Hudson Valley.

Several does have been sauntering suggestively around the area. They generally wade along the edges of the pond as they graze. A pair of neighborhood bucks seem oblivious. I guess the buckian strategy is to wait until rutting season when they are fully geared for antlered action. So to speak.

As evidence of last year’s ribald ruttery, a doe dropped in last Friday to introduce us to her new fawn. Not to be out done, another showed up on Saturday with twins. The responsible bucks, notorious dead beat dads, were elsewhere.

And the male bears roam about. A large guy strolled down the road in front of the house this afternoon. Another crossed “the strip” at the back of the pond on Friday. Both are in the 350-400 pound heavyweight class. Though I would discourage close range verification. Two slightly smaller models loped, (and bears lope–at about 30mph), one along the ledge and another past the porch, yesterday. We eagerly await the moms and their cubs.

As I write this, our velveted four point buck has emerged from the woods and begun to graze on the pond side greenery near the porch. Sunset lights his rust red summer finery. What better way to greet evening.

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