Category: Uncategorized

A northerly cold front has pushed battalions of massive white clouds across blue skies for the past 2 days. Its southerly flow will cause a stiff head wind for northbound birds. They’re well beyond the way stop refuge of Hideaway Pond now. On their own. The annual challenge of long haul avian fortitude.

Meanwhile, Mother Nature has created a confluence of some of her finest weather with the full bloom of wild iris and lilacs. Peonies, rhododendron, and lilies of the valley are ushering in the final strains of Spring *sob*. Tempus fugit.

Even the Hideaway critters are reflecting the change of seasons in their behavior. The deer, in particular, are more giddy than I’ve seen them since rutting season. Ok, mea culpa. Should have averted my eyes.

Four young does jumped out lf the woods last evening, ran the full length of the property and back. Warp speed. They then repeated this foolishness three times. At first we assumed that they were running for their lives from a squadron of the notorious flesh easting Catskill deer flies. However, we finally concluded that they were merely playing out the last girlish refrains of youth before assuming the burdensome mantel of adult doe-hood.

The usual menu of local deer society has generally been limited to the grass and weeds that grow between the ledge and the edge of the pond. During the last 2 evenings, however, a solitary four point buck in velvet has jumped to the top of a small outcropping on the front of the ledge. He has apparently found a stash of some very appealing nourishment in the cracks and crevices thereof. Liken? Moss? Psychedelic mushrooms? Nah. Still, who knows! He was a little bit blurry in long distance photos. And I still suspect that his mother may have had an illicit affair with a mountain goat.

This afternoon, his antlered excellence finally favored us with his regal presence. He suddenly materialized at the side of the pond nearest to the porch. There he waded and fed on pond side vegetation. One could see clearly the velvet that covers and feeds nourishment to his growing antlers. The two nubs at the end of each “spike” will be clearly defined as points once the velvet dries and falls off. Or until he rubs it off on a tree or other solid object in the woods. Hopefully, no one we know. Full and final affirmation of his royal buckness.

However, his testosterone will wane in January and melatonin will take over. His antlers will become brittle and fall off. Oh woe. 😞However, in March or April Mother Nature will begin the inexorable process once more. Oh joy. 😁And every year thereafter. Thus, the Sisyphean life of the regal, though hapless buck. “Uneasy lies the head that wears a” rack. 😕

Editor’s note: Please forgive the poor quality of the attached photographs. Most were taken from a distance and in poor light. They were edited with little success. The reader’s indulgence is duly appreciated. 🤓

• 

• 

• 

• 

Hideaway Pond has been a busy place during the past two days. We’ve wakened to blue skies each morning. A cold front has pushed a few bright white fair weather clouds into the neighborhood. A light golden swirl of pollen has been blown to one end of the pond by a gentle breeze. And into the air. Causing copious sneezing and watering of eyes by my lovely bride. However, it hasn’t dimmed the reflection in the pond of the wild irises that have only recently come into full bloom.

A beautiful four point buck sauntered from the woods, past the ledge and on into the brush across the road last evening. However, like many members of our critter population, it seemed to materialize out of nowhere. And was then gone. Gone before we could lay a lens on him,

Such was the case with the bear that ran through the yard, past the ledge and into the adjacent woods this morning. Interrupted breakfast, by the way. Our Hideaway critters are not well schooled in the social graces.

And as I type this, our four pointer has suddenly materialized on a grassy point at the back of the pond. Once again, his velveted majesty is too far away and obscured by trees to provide a decent photograph. Cursed cervidaens.

OK, I know you’re dying to know. And some have asked. So here goes.

Deer antler is one of the fastest growing materials in the animal world. After rutting season, testosterone decreases and melatonin increases. The antlers become dry, brittle and drop off. Often causing a severe lack of self esteem in the affected buck. As days grow longer, it kicks off an increase in testosterone and growth of the antlers. Velvet contains numerous blood vessels which feed nutrients to the antlers. This starts the growth cycle again. When the antlers have nearly completed growth by August, the velvet dries and drops or is rubbed off. And the affected buck regains self respect.

So there you have it. OK. I know. You didn’t ask. But if you see an antlerless buck in the woods this coming August, please be kind.

Sunset. And to make my original point, two beautiful tiny wood ducks have just landed in the pond. Being tree dwellers, they’ll probably find a cozy hole in an old pine and spend the night. They’ll head north in very early morning. The rising sun will light their way. God speed, little ducks. God speed..

• 

• 

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.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Things have changed around Hideaway Pond. Spring has woven a green cocoon around us. Overlook Mountain has disappeared behind a verdant wall of new growth. The sky is now our window to the outside world.

And the Hideaway is now even more hidden. A sylvan secret.

New critters have emerged. Small rabbits, squirrels and chipmunks the size of mice. Hummingbirds have been buzzing our hanging flower baskets. Robins, cardinals, gold finches and other parents of a feathered persuasion prospect for the chosen fare of their growing broods.

Poking their noses above the surface in quest of detritus from the latest mowing, the grass carp leave small wakes astern.

And turtles sun themselves on the bank. Some break the bonds of proper public behavior, their sun warmed ardour having apparently gotten the best of them. OK, it’s not a very inspired performance. But it apparently works for them. After all, they’re turtles. It’s Spring, And who am I to criticize?

Turkeys call in the woods but keep their small charges well hidden. And we have a family of raptors nesting in a nearby hemlock grove. Falcons, or perhaps sharp shinned hawks. Virtual blurs in flight, they remain anonymous. Mother Nature is a coy old lady. She keeps some secrets close to her breast.

A very nice surprise this evening. We assumed that we had seen the last of migrating water birds until next Autumn. But a pair of mallards splashed down in late afternoon. They’ll spend the night in the new weeds and spring undergrowth at the back of the pond. A pair of wood ducks arrived at sunset and went straight to the island where they apparently plan to bed down. Sunrise will light their way north.

Last night, our resident buck and his small harem of three visited. They’ve now donned the colorful rust red wardrobe of summer. A beautiful complement to the bright greens of surrounding spring foliage.

And this evening a real cervidaen rock star showed up. A large solitary buck dropped by and grazed from pond side vegetation. He embarrassingly lost his antlers after rutting season in January, but he has already begun to grow new ones. Much to his relief, I’m sure. He will soon be in “velvet”. His antlers will become fully grown by August. He waded along the edge of the pond for a few minutes. Then strolled to within a few feet of the porch before disappearing into the woods.

And Smokey is back. He knocked down one of our hanging flower baskets the night before last. He obviously mistook it for a bird feeder. He was good enough to leave it intact, though I’m sure this didn’t improve his early morning disposition. Bad enough a guy has to crawl out of his cave and prospect for breakfast at such an ungodly hour. He’ll be back. I hear by the critter grapevine that he’s been terrorizing dumpsters in the neighborhood.

Wild iris have become a growing green necklace around the edge of the pond. Their purple blossoms will soon bloom and reflect off its surface. Another colorful gift to Spring‘s bright palette.

A warm silence sits on Hideaway Pond. And spring. You can smell it. Fresh mowed grass and the lilacs that Shari brought in from the front yard this morning. A cut glass vase that a friend gave us for our 25th Anniversary. Half of our married lives ago.

The wine red leaves of the crimson mix with the bright green of the overhanging swamp maple. When the afternoon sun shines through them, they seem to glow with their own light. A robin explores the yard for elusive worms and a brilliant indigo bunting flaunts its colors in the nearby woods.

A pair of wood ducks dropped down on Hideaway Pond yesterday. Season finale. They stayed for only a few minutes and took to the air. Almost as though distracted by the worrisome prospect of the long ordeal ahead. Little time for erstwhile cares. And an eagle soared high over the house, his regal aloofness on display as he drifted on. Oblivious.

The ephemeral seasons change. Mother Nature moves on. One more click on the immutable chronometer of time.

The migration season is clearly phasing down on Hideaway pond. During each of the last two days, a pair of mallards has dropped by to spend the night in the tall weeds at the back of the pond. They’ve left in early morning to catch the avian highway to Canada. A pair of geese splashed down yesterday and explored the island before taking flight again and heading northward. And a solitary goose has been making frequent visits to the island. It spends most of its time in the vicinity of the nest that was destroyed by predators earlier this spring. The mourning female goose? Probably. It has returned after earlier loss of its mate. It will no doubt follow its avian sisters north and find a new mate.There will be a few more water birds passing through, but we’ll soon see the last of them. With the arrival of autumn they’ll pass through in the opposite direction.

A black, wind driven spring storm raced across the area yesterday. And a small herd of deer ran through the yard, panicked by the loud thunder and crackling flashes of branch lightning that arrived with it.

But Mother Nature wastes no time. She was playing her tricks again today. Just as the water birds were phasing out she sent in the bears. One, anyway–for now. As we were sitting on the porch this afternoon, my lovely bride suddenly shook me from my usual torpor by grabbing my shoulder and pointing, bug eyed at–a bear. It was about 15 feet behind her next to the deck. He clearly had the bird feeder in mind. She followed his outside path from inside the house and banged on the window when he reached the feeder. He took off, past the porch where I was located. Then he turned back, clearly heading for the feeder again. I yelled to Shari that he was circling back, but she had the feeder in by that time. He eventually wandered away, rounded the ledge and turned up the mountain into the woods. Totally despondent.

He”ll be back. With his pals and their families. Word is now out among the woods critters of Overlook Mountain. Free food at Hideaway Pond

• 

• 

• 

I was a small child during the time when these voices were young. We were very fortunate that we were spared the stories that are told here. It was a different life than we live now. There were food and fuel rationing, “victory gardens”, “mock”‘ air raids (our father was an “air raid warden” whose job was to make sure that everyone in his appointed area of responsibility had their auto and house lights off). Both men and women worked in defense plants. My father worked the night shift at Goodyear, vacuuming debris out of aircraft fuel tanks during summer vacation from his regular job as a high school principal. Some of his students, many of whom I knew, were drafted or enlisted. Some never came back. There was a stand of hollyhocks in our front yard. On the day that the end of the war was announced cars raced up and down US highway 224 blowing their horns in celebration. My little sister and I picked the blossoms and threw them at the cars as they raced by. Nobody noticed but nobody cared. The war was over.

https://www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/2020/06/world-war-ii-survivors-share-stories-75-years-later-feature/?fbclid=IwAR2LO2qgEzaADHBOxPBvhN4MdIq-j4c1k-OSi3DONgZ662ynmMF-M6ft2JY

Well, it’s been a bizarre day on Hideaway Pond. One might add the same for Overlook Mountain and the entire Catskill Range, for that matter. Mother Nature has been in one of her schizophrenic moods again. Bright sunshine interspersed in short order with dark angry clouds, swirling winds and gust driven spring blizzard show. Squalls, we called them in our erstwhile sailing days.

The resultant mix has brought together a collection of natural phenomena seldom seen in combination with one another. Snow covered rhododendron blossoms, mid-May snow on the Catskills and a surprise guest. A rose breasted grosbeak that blew in from out of nowhere.

And–for those of you who follow this humble little blog, a big surprise. The pair of geese who departed separately a couple of weeks ago following destruction of their nest, may well have temporarily returned. During late afternoon, a pair of geese splashed down in mid-pond. Without hesitation, they swam directly to location on the island containing the wreckage of the old nest. She went ashore and stood for about 5 minutes on the exact spot where the nest was once located.while he lingered in water. He then joined her on the island and they flew away.

Now before you send the little men in white coats with the butterfly net, please understand that I’m not enough of a romantic to make this stuff up. Besides, I have attached photographic evidence (forgive the spotty photos. That‘s snow). And my lovely bride will vouch for me. Or we can share a butterfly net.

• 

• 

• 

• 

Mid-week, and quiet reigns on Hideaway Pond. About what one would expect near the end of the migration season. A solitary mallard splashed down yesterday morning. It quietly settled in the high grass at the back of the pond. Brief respite from a long flight begun at some far distant point in the south. It apparently continued to hear the ever insistent siren song of the north. It later took off, buzzed the porch and set a course northward. Two geese arrived in late afternoon, accompanied by their usual noisy fanfare. A contrast to soft warm hues of the quiet sunset that followed.

Things were totally different two days earlier. A pair of mallards and four wood ducks were already grazing on the pond edge vegetation when we opened the porch for the day. Three more mallards, two males and a female, arrived in the afternoon. This pastoral scene was noisily interrupted when two of the male mallards suddenly decided to compete for the amorous charms of one of the females. Raucous warfare ensued with the reluctant bride being pursued on land, air and sea. Three geese then flew in and joined in the fray. One of the male mallards finally won the prize as the frantic day came to an end. Having no interest in the honeymoon, we adjourned for the day. As did the wood ducks, who were totally embarrassed by such avian behavior. The entire wedding party was gone in the morning. Just as well. Who wants to have breakfast with a flock of hung over birds? Besides, as many know, geese are not at all well potty trained. Best wishes to the happy new couple.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Spring has been in a mix of moods today. Yesterday’s clear blue skies were covered by a blanket of gray this morning. Gray and windless. A day deemed by my lovely bride to be ideal for cleaning the windows on the porch. Which she did. Whereupon, she declared that any bird who pooped on the windows thereafter would be “dead meat”. Unkind thought in the extreme, but certainly not lacking in clarity of meaning. Duly noted.

A windy cold front pushed out the morning overcast as blue skies rolled back in. Gusty winds blew small sprays of spume across the surface of the pond. Although there has been no wane in visiting birdlife, we expect to see the spring migrations phase out soon. As if to make the point, a flight of wood ducks flew directly over the porch today. They moved on, crabbing into the crosswinds, not stopping to refuel as they went.

To add a strange finale to this part of our story, darkness fell two hours ago. And a pair of Canada geese has just made a very noisy landing on the pond near the island. Had I known of their flight plan, I’d have turned on the runway lights. But, then, geese have their own flight rules. After all, they’re geese.