Happy To Be Exploring

This past Sunday I had the supreme honor of taking a 5 year old on a tad-pole hunt. If you haven’t done this, give it a try (make sure the kid wants to go). I’ve read how everyday stress ages the human body in many measurable ways. I’m here to report that one antidote to this malady can be achieved by teaching a precocious 5 year old how to search for squiggling baby froggies in the muck of a fish pond.

‘Little 5,’ as I’ll refer to him, called me in the evening on his mom’s cell phone to let me know he wanted to raise a tad-pole…and he needed my assistance. Rarely do I get such important phone calls, so immediately we devised a tentative plan, got mom’s approval, and synchronized our watches.

Little 5 arrived at 9:30 am, via chauffeur, eager for adventure. I was a giddy go-getter who had been provisioning for our hunt since 7:30 am; had already made a trip to wal-mart for a dip-net (folks, this is why Wal-Mart is the rightful king of the evil empire: who else has dip-nets at 7:30 am on a Sunday?!!). In our white plastic five gallon bucket we carried the dip-net, a quart sized Mason jar, and an old gray towel (this could get dirty). Little 5 spotted my trusty binoculars on the kitchen table and said “Oh! we’ll need those to see real deep into the water.” I started to explain that those were more for looking up into trees and…but before I could finish, they were dangling around his neck, so I summed it up with a reassuring “Yes…we’ll need those too.”

We drove slowly down the gravel entrance to Occanneechi State Natural Area, and paused when we neared the ponds to get the first look at prime tad-pole habitat. I was relieved to see the ponds actually had water in them (I hadn’t exactly done all of my homework for this adventure, despite the previous late evening hike along the Eno river which turned up not one water-bound baby amphibian). Just last year the state had drained the ponds for a major renovation project. I had taken a gamble in hoping they had finished their project according to schedule (it is the state, you know). I had read that it would take awhile for the stocked fish population to reach the previous “keeper” size. Strangely the article hadn’t mentioned a thing about the projected size of the froggy population, but I had a hunch they would ‘rebound’ (ba-dump-tschhh) quickly.

While walking from the car to the ponds I realized I needed to refrain from slipping into Mr. Identifier mode…you know: “That’s a centipede; oh look, a cardinal; this here is the common milkweed plant which is the sole food source for the brilliant migratory monarch butterfly which stops here on its long journey from Canada to Mexico and while it rests here, it sometimes will…” I think I made a good decision. If he asked a question, I would answer.

The first pond, the largest one, was teeming with minnows. Little 5 asked “what’s a minnow?” Yay!, a question! So I told him that minnows are baby fish…like tad-poles are baby frogs…and they actually eat baby frogs…which is probably why he had trouble finding any baby frogs. So, for the first 15 minutes, Little 5 practiced catching minnows in the dip-net while I searched the far corners of the big pond for froglings…and found none. I realized I hadn’t thought of a plan B if we were unsuccessful with the amphibisearch. Maybe he could raise a minnow…maybe wal-mart would have tad-poles. Little 5 didn’t seem worried as he was happy to be exploring. Good kid. We headed down to the lower pond. Immediately, as we neared the tall grass, a chorus line of croakers launched themselves into the water. Little 5’s eyes got real big. I danced a quick little jig. But in order to get close to the water, we would have needed hip waders to get us in and a crane to get us out. While I began thinking of more plan B’s, Little 5 startled me with an enthusiastically squealed “Dragonfly!!” This kid was not going to let a dearth of legless kermits drag him down.

We made our way to the far side of the little pond where the ground was firm enough to allow your toes to rest at the edge of the water. Here too was a promising collection of pond scum. As we leaned over the water, being careful not to slip into the ooze, a tiny black dot wiggled up to the surface. TAD-POLE! Quickly we fumbled with the dip-net and scooped gently towards the wiggling dot…which wiggled right through the mesh and back down below the pond scum. We soon realized there were black dots all over this section of pond…and every one of them slid gracefully through the net and back to their original resting places. We spent several minutes devising very creative trapping schemes (I’ll let you use your imagination) before we decided to search the final, even murkier, corner of the pond. Maybe that is where the larger, teenage tadpoles hang out. And sure enough, there they were, bigger dots, just fat enough to hang suspended in the lacework of the 4 dollar dip-net.

Little 5 kept both hands tight around his mason jar. As we walked back, he held his new
friends up close to his face. He peered through his glasses into the jar of weeds and scum, and smiled blissfully. I did the same.

Curse Them or Caress Them

I’ve been sweating the rabbits lately, can’t help it. They be eye‘in my greens, if you know-what-I-mean?! But they’re cute. Damn it. Curse them or caress them? Depends on the day.

I looked out the window yesterday and saw a bunny there in the driveway eating crabgrass…basically doing my yardwork for me! Yes! They can eat ALL the crabgrass they want! “Try the poison ivy while you’re at it.”

But then, this evening while I’m plucking the cucumbers and checking on the ‘maters, I see a huddle of fur balls with big black eyes peering out of the dense foliage. Oh boy did I have some evil thoughts. I ended up chasing them, 5 of them, around the garden in all different directions until they each squeezed through the fence and out into the yard. I made them each promise to eat a section of crabgrass.

I think one of them laughed at me.

Out of Hiding

Thrasher, Brown, tear up the ground
Root the devil out of the woodpile

Rusted back, speckled chest
Your little ones have left the nest
Now you and your missus must teach them

Out of hiding and into the yard
You show your face awhile

Curved bill, evening trill
Mock the mockingbirds for me
And stare with your black-eyed-susans

Hide in the hedges, stalk the sedges
Eat whatever fills you

This week I realized the Brown Thrashers have lately been frequenting the yard more...well...frequently. Usually I only see (or more often hear) one as it lurks on the wood's edge. With my little, zoom challenged, point and shoot camera, I haven't been able to steal a photo (which explains my wordy substitute above).

It has been a treat to watch the Thrasher couple scampering around the yard collecting all manner of bugs, worms, and berries for the young ones. They are deliberate, serious birds. You can see it in their eyes.

One of their little ones ended up in the garden some how yesterday...must have fluttered down from the nearby poplar. As I cornered the little chirper and dropped him on the other side of the fence, momma and papa chattered fiercely from the lowest branch of the poplar. The fledgling, not yet equipped to fly, hopped to the edge of the yard.
I'm sure it is now getting a lesson on how to hide in the bushes.

Garden update 1 2009

Garden update 1 2009

The veggie plants are coming along just fine. Some are doing better than others of course. I'm using a lunar planting guide for the first time this season...and enjoying the process. Lettuce has been tasty. Little turnips turned into a simple soup. Next will be the peas. One rabbit so far...it nibbled on the beet leaves and pea plants, then I shot him...with the water hose...I'm such a wuss.

This Spring's Obsession

This spring I’ve been focusing on the local woodland flowering plants. In the past, I’ve had an appreciation for native plants, but not much of an understanding. Last summer, when Heather and I were hiking on a weekly basis, I started paying closer attention to the woodland dwellers. At the end of each walk I would relax back at home with a few field guidebooks to figure out what people call the plants I had seen. Along with the names came their habitats, geographies, historical uses, and flowering times. I began to realize that I had missed many of their flowering periods.

The idea, which has grown into this spring’s obsession, took root last summer when I stumbled upon a simple, yet elegant, three-leaved, straight-stemmed plant growing near a dead-end path along the banks of my favorite local river. I didn’t know exactly what the plant was. All I knew is that it looked unique amongst its neighbors, and it bore resemblance to the mountain Trilliums that my parents admire. But without flowers to distinguish it, I was going to have to wait awhile to identify it.

So, as this fascination and curiosity spread to other plants, I decided to start early this spring and make the weekly rounds and check on the local plants. Since the last frost, I have been hitting the trails, camera in tow, to watch the plants circle through their cycles. I’ve had many satisfying finds. However, the one that had started this whole adventure was letting me down. I had found the three-leaved mystery plant early in the season and had checked it weekly, but it did not seem to be setting blooms…and it appeared to be running out of time.

Heather came with me on today’s rounds. I did the usual check…still no blooms…or even a hint of blooms. Heather pushed on ahead and, from around the bend in the trail, I heard “Jayyyyyyson…come here!” And there they were…in tender bloom! These were big plants…much larger than the few I had been checking on for weeks. Why hadn’t I come this far during all of my walks??? I started clicking away with the camera and scrambled into the woods for more…ticks and poison ivy be damned! I believe my heart was racing as fast as it was during last week’s triathlon. All for a little flower…which I now can rightly call Catesby’s Trillium.

Jack's Back

This morning, before things got hot, we took the big red canoe out for the first trip of the season. Of course we went to the upper Eno, just down the road from our home. Along the banks, rosy Pinxter (wild azalea) flowers hovered over the water and made me wonder if the bees and hummingbirds know the beauty from which they feast. Further upstream we explored. Despite the many trips along this route, the new season always brings surprises. We navigated carefully around a snag of downed tree limbs and rocky boulders just as a two-foot-long snapping turtle glided gracefully, though startlingly, away from our commotion. Dinosaurs are still among us…trust me (right Heather!).

This season, during our hikes and paddles, I have been paying careful attention to the wild flower blooms that I missed last year. My interest seems to be two-part: 1) appreciate the natural beauty and 2) learn a little more about the life cycles of these neighbors.



For this day, I had planned to take a quick walkabout halfway into the trip to see if there were any Lady Slipper plants in a thicket of pines I had seen before. My parents have Lady Slippers under the pines on their mountain property. Well, I didn’t find any of the rare orchids, but I did happen upon the secret Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Last year I missed their blooms, but wrote about their brilliant seed clusters in August. Yes, Jack’s back and, hidden below a rather ordinary cluster of green leaves; he sits in the moist shade soaking up the breath of the river. I now know, at least in our area, the Jacks bloom in late April and seed in August: More clues to a scavenger hunt that will keep me entertained for years to come…all in high definition. Now I just need to find those Lady Slippers.

To Check on Spring Blooms

It was a nice outdoor Easter Weekend in Hillsborough. Saturday morning warmed slowly as we took a short walk, down by the Eno at Occaneeche Mountain, to check on spring blooms. We had a surprise towards the end of the walk; fortunately I spotted it before Heather and was able to give her advanced warning. She handled it well. And so did it.

Sunday was a little warmer, with less wind. Most of the day was spent in the garden where I seeded the tomatoes, cucumbers and peas. The quick little wren kept watch throughout the day. If I left the garden for more than 20 minutes, a pair of doves dropped down to pick through the fresh-turned soil. Photos of the garden will be added soon.

I'm pretty itchy.