Swallow Controversy

Our community has four lakes. We can fish, canoe, kayak or swim in any of them. Motors are limited to small electric trolling motors for fishing boats. No water skis or jet skis. The largest lake, Lake Atagahi has an area designed for young children to swim/play safely. A walkway with cabana surrounds the shallow swimming area.


The cabana is perfect for Barn Swallows. The eaves and rafters are great for nest-building. Flying insects are abundant and the swallows can skim over the lake for insects that float on the water. In fact, the cabana is so perfect that the numbers of Barn Swallows using it increased every year. The mud bowls grew more and more numerous.

Some concerned moms and grandmothers decided that the swallows posed a health risk to the children playing in the water and on the beach. They demanded that the community board do something to keep the swallows from coming back to the cabana.

The board decided to cover the rafters with screens to deny access to the rafters. Recently I took a walk to see what was going on. I was delighted to see swallows. One was sitting on a metal prominence.

A perfect swallow’s nest was attached outside the eaves. Built right on the very screen put in place to prevent it. I find the nests absolutely fascinating. How many trips does such a small bird have to make in order to bring in that much mud?

Inside was another nest.

I’m glad the swallows are here. And I hope we can all peacefully coexist.

Nesting in the Fuchsia

I got a frantic call from one of my neighbors this morning. “Carolyn,” she said, “I think I’ve done something awful! It’s a bird’s nest. Can you come over?” I grabbed my coffee (I knew I would need it) and my camera (just in case) and walked over to her house. When I got there, my neighbor was almost teary-eyed, standing next to a hanging fuchsia basket, now on the porch. Inside the basket was a bird’s nest containing two eggs.

“Oh, I touched it,” she lamented. “Now the mother bird won’t come back. I feel just awful. It wasn’t there Friday and we were gone over the weekend. What kind of bird do you think it might be?”

“I don’t mind if she broke some of the branches. I don’t even care that I can’t water the plant and will lose it. I’m just so afraid the bird won’t come back.”

It seemed clear to me, based on the composition of the nest that the bird in question was a Robin. The two robin’s-egg-blue eggs were a dead give-a-way. The Robin had broken some of the branches to allow more room for her nest.

“Should I just throw away the nest and eggs? Surely the bird won’t come back since I already gave it a human scent. Are you sure it’s all right for me to hold the basket while you take the picture?”

I explained to my neighbor that the “human scent” story is a myth, and that the Robin didn’t care at all that we had touched the nest. I showed her how to carefully water the fuchsia and suggested that we hang it back up. She could keep her plant as well as the nest.

My neighbor signed with relief. She thanked me and remarked how nice it was to have a “bird expert” living in the neighborhood. Oh yeah, a bird expert. However, I couldn’t be condescending and suggest that almost anyone should be able to recognize a robin’s nest, especially one with eggs in it. I shrugged it off with, “Well, I wouldn’t call myself an expert. But I’m glad I could be of some help.”

For the record: I am not a bird expert. I love birds and I love identifying them when I can. But, you know what? I don’t become upset if I can’t identify a bird even after looking it up. I don't feel the need to differentiate every little warbler. I can be completely happy calling a bird a summer warbler or a fall warbler, depending on the season. That would be intolerable for a real bird expert.

When I came back home, I told my husband I was now the official neighborhood expert on birds. He laughed. “Well, it really doesn’t matter much. Not being an expert has never in your life inhibited you from sharing an opinion.” Ah, the man knows me too well.

A Gnome of my Own

This morning the Golden Girls gave me a present in a large box. I opened the box and was delighted to find…a garden gnome.

His name is Al and he must be a hard worker. He even brought along his wheelbarrow.

I know that Al will be out in the rain and weather, but it was rainy and chilly this morning. I stood on the porch, looking out at the rain and decided I would let Al have the day off. I just couldn’t put him out in the rain on his first day here. Especially since I would have to go out in the rain myself in order to do so.

A little research revealed more gnome information than I really cared to know. There are some truly dedicated gnome collectors. Which is fine, really it is. But some of these folks are a little over the top. Did you know there are garden gnome blogs, reserves dedicated to garden gnomes, little gnome houses and accessories for sale? And there are gnome advocates; organizations designed to free the gnomes from their constant gardening. A popular outing for these liberators is “gnome hunting,” in which they drive around and pick up (i.e., steal) garden gnomes from yards. The cultish nature of some groups is a bit unsettling.

My husband asked, “So where are you going to put him until he goes outside? He can’t stay in the kitchen.”

I started thinking about some of the gnome groups. “Oh,” I said, “I’ll just put him in the guest room for the time being.”

Get some sleep, Al. You start work first thing tomorrow morning.

DISCLAIMER: This posting is not intended to minimize or ridicule gnome collectors who know the history of every garden gnome around. It’s a fine hobby, but I’ll be content to simply enjoy seeing Al in my garden. I'd prefer not to be part of your listserv. It was a big enough leap to put Al to bed for the photo, thank you very much.

Fridays are Golden

Most working people look forward to Friday. It's the last day of the work week for many. If the boss is taking a long weekend, it's also known as "Slacker Friday." It seems fitting to share a picture of my goofy Goldens, since they can show you how to truly be slackers.

Wake us up when it's time for dinner.

Life's Little Oddities

One sometimes sees the oddest things. Some of them are real. Upon closer examination, others turn out not to be so odd after all. This has been a day of odd things.

The first odd thing is a Towhee. I know, I know, a Towhee is not odd. It is when it is sitting at a bird feeder on a second-floor deck, some 40 feet off the ground that it looks odd. I apologize for the picture. I was so amazed; I just grabbed the camera and did a quick point/shoot through the window and screen. You may want to click to enlarge.


The next odd thing I saw was a set of conjoined twin Golden Retrievers.

We’re hoping to have the separation surgery soon.

Driving down to town, I came upon a flowering pine tree.

I can explain some of the oddities.
The conjoined Goldens are simply lying together. No matter where Ellie (on the right) decides to rest, Lucy (red collar) snuggles up next to her.

They are indeed two separate dogs. Here they are running on a nearby hiking trail.

Here’s Lucy: When you started this blogging stuff you said you wouldn’t embarrass the family. Well I’m family, and I don’t like those comments. So I’ll just stay here with my head under the chair ‘til you apologize.

When I stopped the car for a closer look, I saw that the flowering pine tree turned out to be an azalea growing right in front of the pine tree.

Wait a minute. Is that a butterfly? (Click to enlarge)
Oh yes, an Eastern Tiger Swallowtail. Such a lovely, delicate thing.

As for the Towhee --- I have no explanation as to why this ground-feeding bird decided to try out a seed feeder so far up in the air. I suppose there are some odd things in nature that can’t be explained so easily. If you have any ideas, I would welcome them.

I Voted

With the Presidential primaries and caucuses beginning so early this year, most of us lamented that North Carolina’s May 6 primary would be of little importance. As time progressed, we were delighted to see that we might actually play a role in candidate selection. Of course, the Republican candidate was firmly in place, but our state would definitely be important in the Democratic selection.

Since the Pennsylvania primary some weeks ago, we have been inundated with political advertisements. The three Clintons and the two Obamas criss-crossed NC, making appearances and giving speeches all over the state. The phones rang constantly with solicitations to consider a certain candidate. Television talking heads projected what the NC vote would mean. They have been so wrong so often, no one paid much attention to them. We were all eager to see May 6 come and go…especially go. Our only respite was when the candidate families flew to Indiana, which also had its primary today.

My polling place is a small community center:

It is very different from my polling place in the Milwaukee North Shore suburb where we lived for the past 20 years. Instead of little old ladies dressed to the nines, overall-clad men were the poll workers. They were very friendly and eager to be of assistance. They clearly took their jobs seriously. There were no long lines, no same-day registration, no poll watchers and no protesters.

Most of my friends and neighbors took advantage of the early voting process. Not me. I feel as if I must go down to the polls on election day. I’ve never missed an election day since I turned 21 (the minimum voting age of long ago).

It is said that all politics is local. This is definitely true here in western NC. Note that almost all of the signs near the polls are for County Commissioner. I did not see even one Clinton or Obama sign, and few signs for the gubernatorial candidates.

So why am I so caught up in this voting thing? Because so many people do not exercise their right to vote and it infuriates me. If you didn’t vote in your primary or caucus, don’t whine about the candidates selected.

As Franklin D. Roosevelt said:
Nobody will ever deprive the American people of the right to vote except the American people themselves and the only way they could do this is by not voting.

Or as Ralph Waldo Emerson said:

Those who stay away from the election think that one vote will do no good: Tis but one step more to think one vote will do no harm.

And my favorite byJames Bovard:
Democracy must be something other than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner.

If you didn’t vote in your state’s primary or caucus, you have a chance to redeem yourself. Make a commitment to vote in November. If you did vote in your primary/caucus, pat yourself on the back for being a good citizen.

Driving Above the Clouds

On a recent morning, my husband and I found ourselves driving above the clouds. The photos were taken near Mt. Pisgah. (Click to enlarge.)

There were clouds above us and clouds below us.

When scattered clouds are resting on the bosoms of hills,

it seems as if one might climb into the heavenly region,

earth being so intermixed with sky,

and gradually transformed into it.

Nathaniel Hawthorne

The clouds,

--the only birds that never sleep. - Victor Hugo

How sweet to be a cloud
Floating in the blue
A.A. Hodge

Gradually, the clouds merged showing us a bit of blue sky.

Clouds on clouds
In volumes driven
Curtain round the vault of Heaven
Thomas Love Peacock