Our 'Bohemian neighbourhoood' on a Saturday morning.

We counted 21 Bohemian Waxwings this morning.  

If you are wondering how Cedar and Bohemian Waxwings differ; 'All About Birds' is a great resource.  It's my online go-to for identification.  Here is an example of their ID viewer . 

Our waxwing visitors this morning used the cone laden top of the tall Englemann Spruce (the Grosbeak's nesting tree) as their base while they flew back and forth to the creek below. 

The portion of the creek they were zipping back and forth to is where the beaver has built his dam.  The dam produces a soothing waterfall sound and also apparently, a bloom of something the waxwings were enjoying. 

The Bohemian's were a welcome sight on an overcast October morning. About half as many came through last year in early November.

 Arthur C. Bent (1866-1954)  one of America's greatest ornithologists, describes the Bohemian Waxwing as “a well-dressed gentleman in feathers, a Beau Brummel among birds.”   

( 'Beau Who?! Okay, gotta love Google ) Beau Brummel was an iconic figure in Regency England; the arbiter of men's fashion in the early half of the 1800's.  

Here's a portrait of the nattily dressed Brummel.

 

Did you know; a group of waxwings are collectively known as an "ear-full" 

or a "museum" of waxwings. 

Till next time ~ here's to happy songbirds everywhere.

And thanks for dropping by.

The colours of fall

I find it difficult to write anything that these images do not say better themselves.

Come enjoy the beauty of fall on the meadow. 

 

 

 

 

 

Song for Autumn

In the deep fall
    don't you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
    the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
    freshets of wind? And don't you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
    warm caves, begin to think

of the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleep
    inside their bodies? And don't you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
    the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
    vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
    its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
    the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.

Mary Oliver
New and Selected Poems: Volume Two

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

October on the meadow

 Invigorating, crisp October mornings that sparkle.

"The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly
changes from summer cottons into its winter wools."
-   Henry Beston, Northern Farm

 Bright sunny Afternoons. 

Smiling comes easy and laughter too like leaves falling.

 

September frost

 A beautiful frosty September morning on the meadow.

 A refreshing and exhilarating time of year!

 "Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower." - Albert Camus

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice can speak. - See more at: http://peopleforothers.loyolapress.com/2010/09/more-mary-oliver/#sthash.qocQOZLD.dpuf

 Praying

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

~ Mary Oliver ~

(Thirst)

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice can speak. - See more at: http://peopleforothers.loyolapress.com/2010/09/more-mary-oliver/#sthash.qocQOZLD.dpuf

Rubber Boot Adventures

 

"Christopher Robin was sitting outside his door, putting on his Big Boots. As soon as he saw the Big Boots, Pooh knew that an Adventure was going to happen, and he brushed the honey off his nose with the back of his paw and spruced himself up as well as he could, so as to look Ready for Anything."

 

Here on the meadow we love our rubber boots / wellies / gumboots ....

David and I affectionately call them 'bubba roots'.  They are my favourite footwear!  Fortunately because of our lifestyle I can wear them almost anytime, and do! Without them I might miss out on some pretty great adventures. 

The latest adventure with my Big Boots was a picture taking wander after a thunder and hail storm the other night and as the mist moved in. 

  
It was a magical evening that carried on into the dark with a star heavy sky.