Well, it's that time of year again. The streets are bruised with mulberry juice. I've been visiting one tree in my neighborhood frequently with plastic containers, old sneakers, and rubber gloves. Those berries stain like mad and I learned my lesson after the first day of picking. Out of the last 12 days, I have picked half a gallon or more of mulberries on eight of those days. It's been wonderful eating them right off the tree. I take my nine-month-old son with me and he sits in the stroller watching me pick mulberries, waiting for me to put a big purple berry in his little red mouth. He smushes it with his gums and smiles really wide. I hope he will enjoy the berry hunt as much as I do someday.
With the mulberries I have done quite a bit. The first day I made a dessert sauce for an ice cream topping (we recently started making our own frozen desserts - yum!) Later, I made mulberry muffins, peanut butter and mulberry milkshakes, dehydrated mulberries for snacking, mulberry fruit-on-the-bottom (well, fruit-on-the-top because they float) yogurt, mulberry granola, and mulberry frozen yogurt. We are almost mulberried out. I was able to freeze a whole gallon bag of them for use later in the year as well.
As mulberry season fades, the black raspberries in our neighborhood are beginning to ripen. I learned my lesson last year, when I thought there was a chance they might be red raspberries. Wait til they're black!
I got a book from Amazon called The New England Berry Book. It's a great little book with descriptions, anecdotes, photographs, hunting tips, and recipes for 8-10 kinds of berries in this region. Unlike with field guides on birds, I prefer photos to illustrations for wild edibles. I want to reap nature's bounty but I have to be sure of something before I eat it! I'd like to learn more about the berries I see in my neighborhood and where I can go to find others. If you know a great book or resource, please share it!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Feathering the Nest
Some friends of my parents, people I’ve never met, spent time designing, building, and painting a good, solid birdhouse as a family project. When they heard about my personal connection to the bird world, they kindly gave it to my parents to pass along to me. When I received this gift, I didn’t have a home of my own or a yard in which to stake a claim for birds. I was touched by the generosity of these strangers, but couldn’t imagine where I’d be able to use the birdhouse. At that time, we lived in a big apartment building in Brooklyn, a block from Prospect Park, the lesser-known but equally magnificent sister of Manhattan’s Central Park. In Prospect’s hidden, leafy walks I stalked birds, hunted berries, and photographed fungi; in its rambling, open meadows I frolicked in sunlight. Our three-year stint in Brooklyn ended last July in a transition that took my husband, me, and our yet unborn baby to live with family in our native Rhode Island. Now hundreds of miles from that fantastic greensward, I find joy in the backyards and hidden greenspaces of suburban Johnston. Our quiet neighborhood is home to a small brook and a few patches of woodland, dwindling rapidly thanks to the human touch. But there is much life in these parts -- many familiar birds and mammals, and some elusive and surprising creatures as well.
Back in the waning of the summer and the waxing of my pregnancy, I felt lonely for birds; heavy with child, I found my stamina for hiking and birding greatly diminished. So I perched the little wooden birdhouse in the front yard in a small tree about eight feet from the front bay window. With a few nails strategically placed by my mother-in-law for stability, the little wooden structure seemed a perfect hideaway. It sat empty for ages, as I knew it would, the year being far past nesting season. Many birds frequented the tree in autumn, however, for its abundance of red berries. In winter, though I was considerably lighter, it was now too cold to take an infant outdoors. In my impatience, I began to wonder if the ledge near the birdhouse's entrance hole was wrong for bird-use, or whether I should change the direction the birdhouse faced. As with all things, only time would tell.
Now it is deep February, with skies like ice, clear and cold. Just a few afternoons ago, I spotted a house sparrow casing the joint, checking for safety from predators, proximity to cover, quality of visibility for mating displays. I peek at the house for a few minutes every day now. He seems to have deemed the little brown and blue house worthy of his nest, for he has begun bringing choice bits of grass in for his building project. It is a sweet process, one to which I can recently relate. I took great joy in seeking out safe, stylish, affordable necessities for my own baby's room; why should a bird do less? But all may not be well on the sparrow's home front. Just yesterday when the sparrow was out, I saw a tufted titmouse announce his presence at the house and barge in. He didn't stay long, but I wonder whether there will be a territory battle. I'd put my money on the sparrow - stocky and already brown, he seems like the sort of fellow who's not afraid to fight dirty. And as much as I'd like to witness the growth of tiny titmice, the sparrow was there first and I'll help him however I can.
We've got a suet feeder in the back, but the sparrows only eat the crumbs dropped from it by the chickadees and woodpeckers. I think I will clean out my hairbrush and the lint trap in the dryer today; I have a mesh bag just waiting to be hung from the clothesline and stuffed with bird-nest potential. And I know I have some fabric ribbon left over from decorating our nursery. It's romantic to think that some of my hair may end up as part of a bird's nest, but somehow I find an even sweeter satisfaction in the thought that shreds of the very same green ribbon that holds back the curtains in our son's room may help form a safe place for another sort of baby altogether.
Spring will arrive with a flutter of wings soon enough. I look forward to teaching my son about birds and trees and rocks and clouds, for these things are as thrilling to me as texture, sound, and color are to him now. He will grow along with sparrow chicks this year, gaining strength and independence in small ways every day. We must cherish the small things, like first steps, first teeth, and rolling over, or like bugs and sticks and feathers; we must actively seek them out, for these are the rudiments of adventure, and what is the world for if not for exploring?
Back in the waning of the summer and the waxing of my pregnancy, I felt lonely for birds; heavy with child, I found my stamina for hiking and birding greatly diminished. So I perched the little wooden birdhouse in the front yard in a small tree about eight feet from the front bay window. With a few nails strategically placed by my mother-in-law for stability, the little wooden structure seemed a perfect hideaway. It sat empty for ages, as I knew it would, the year being far past nesting season. Many birds frequented the tree in autumn, however, for its abundance of red berries. In winter, though I was considerably lighter, it was now too cold to take an infant outdoors. In my impatience, I began to wonder if the ledge near the birdhouse's entrance hole was wrong for bird-use, or whether I should change the direction the birdhouse faced. As with all things, only time would tell.
Now it is deep February, with skies like ice, clear and cold. Just a few afternoons ago, I spotted a house sparrow casing the joint, checking for safety from predators, proximity to cover, quality of visibility for mating displays. I peek at the house for a few minutes every day now. He seems to have deemed the little brown and blue house worthy of his nest, for he has begun bringing choice bits of grass in for his building project. It is a sweet process, one to which I can recently relate. I took great joy in seeking out safe, stylish, affordable necessities for my own baby's room; why should a bird do less? But all may not be well on the sparrow's home front. Just yesterday when the sparrow was out, I saw a tufted titmouse announce his presence at the house and barge in. He didn't stay long, but I wonder whether there will be a territory battle. I'd put my money on the sparrow - stocky and already brown, he seems like the sort of fellow who's not afraid to fight dirty. And as much as I'd like to witness the growth of tiny titmice, the sparrow was there first and I'll help him however I can.
We've got a suet feeder in the back, but the sparrows only eat the crumbs dropped from it by the chickadees and woodpeckers. I think I will clean out my hairbrush and the lint trap in the dryer today; I have a mesh bag just waiting to be hung from the clothesline and stuffed with bird-nest potential. And I know I have some fabric ribbon left over from decorating our nursery. It's romantic to think that some of my hair may end up as part of a bird's nest, but somehow I find an even sweeter satisfaction in the thought that shreds of the very same green ribbon that holds back the curtains in our son's room may help form a safe place for another sort of baby altogether.
Spring will arrive with a flutter of wings soon enough. I look forward to teaching my son about birds and trees and rocks and clouds, for these things are as thrilling to me as texture, sound, and color are to him now. He will grow along with sparrow chicks this year, gaining strength and independence in small ways every day. We must cherish the small things, like first steps, first teeth, and rolling over, or like bugs and sticks and feathers; we must actively seek them out, for these are the rudiments of adventure, and what is the world for if not for exploring?
Monday, February 1, 2010
bird bomb
Our backyard neighbor has cleared most of the wilderness behind our yard, so there's not much shelter left for birds and other creatures. I took my 5-month-old son out back today to check on the suet feeder. As soon as I knelt down to his level for a kiss, I saw a beautiful redtail swirling over our yard. Any birds back there now would be easy targets. Anyway, I narrated to the baby what the bird was doing. "Look, he's flying in circles over the yard to get higher. Oh, his legs are hanging down..." And then the hawk evacuated its bowels 50 feet in the air and I watched it all splatter down onto one of the trees in our yard. I guess that is one way to get a kid interested in nature!
Friday, November 6, 2009
autumn recollections
While the baby sleeps after his first round of shots and I listen idly to the Jeopardy! Teen Tournament, I figured I'd record some recent thoughts and events.
We had one day of ladybug infestation. Clouds of them buzzing in the sunbeams, hundreds stuck to the side of the house. It wasn't just here, either; friends from all over mentioned the same phenomenon. It was kind of cool! We even had one in the nursery, crawling up the alphabet painting over the changing table. The ladybug paused on its own picture for just a moment. A neat juxtaposition.
About 2 weeks ago I hung a suet feeder from the clothesline in the backyard. I've had a few visitors - mostly house sparrows, but also some downy woodpeckers and a white-breasted nuthatch. The suet cake is gone now, replaced with half a stale PBJ.
While walking our babies, a friend and I saw a family of turkeys a few yards into the woods. Not 14 turkeys like I saw in our yard a few weeks ago, but more like three or four. I worry for the animals in my neighborhood. Some big company bought one of the swathes of woodland and put up a fence and now the deer can't get through. And the stables down the road razed quite a bit of land for horse pastures. The turkeys, deer, coyotes, raccoons and foxes are running out of room to live in peace around here.
My mother-in-law said she saw a fisher cat early one morning last week. I hope I see one someday, and yet I am terrified for that moment. My dad told me they sound like someone screaming in the woods, and that really interested me so I did some research. I found some pictures and boy, are they ferocious-looking! I wouldn't want to cross a fisher cat. Yikes!
That open land I found a few weeks ago off Melody Lane - I've been visiting its edge regularly on my bike rides and with the baby on our walks. Lots of good birds over there, and hardly any cars, at least not in the day when everyone's at work. I looked on a map to see the shape of the land and whether it had a name. None that I could find, but I did visit the other side and I found a sign proclaiming it a wildlife refuge and prohibiting hunting. I wonder if that means it's open to the public. It seems sort of swampy but I'd go in prepared.
I was out for a bike ride one afternoon this week. I debated bringing my binocs, because I know if I bring them, I'll look at birds and that is not exercise. I should use my half-hour of bike time to get my heart pumping. So I didn't bring them. But boy did I regret that! As soon as I was too far from home to make it worth turning back for them, waves and waves of Canada geese appeared over the horizon. I heard their cacophony even before I saw them. They flew in over me and seemed to turn at a right angle and head off beyond Neutaconkanut Hill. I watched the last string disappear, bade them have a nice winter and pedaled off.
The leaves have been gorgeous this year. If I recall correctly, RI gets the good leaves about 2 weeks before NYC, and NYC gets spring flowers maybe a whole month earlier than RI does. My mother-in-law drove baby and me to Putnam, CT, today for an appointment, and I couldn't believe the difference a few weeks makes in terms of foliage. When last we drove that way in mid-October, the trees were brilliant in all their flaming glory - red, orange, yellow, brown, gold, and green. Now the hillsides are a nearly uniform shade of rust - at least the trees that still have leaves are. The Great Dump is upon us, and soon I will find some innocent leaf pile to storm!
We had one day of ladybug infestation. Clouds of them buzzing in the sunbeams, hundreds stuck to the side of the house. It wasn't just here, either; friends from all over mentioned the same phenomenon. It was kind of cool! We even had one in the nursery, crawling up the alphabet painting over the changing table. The ladybug paused on its own picture for just a moment. A neat juxtaposition.
About 2 weeks ago I hung a suet feeder from the clothesline in the backyard. I've had a few visitors - mostly house sparrows, but also some downy woodpeckers and a white-breasted nuthatch. The suet cake is gone now, replaced with half a stale PBJ.
While walking our babies, a friend and I saw a family of turkeys a few yards into the woods. Not 14 turkeys like I saw in our yard a few weeks ago, but more like three or four. I worry for the animals in my neighborhood. Some big company bought one of the swathes of woodland and put up a fence and now the deer can't get through. And the stables down the road razed quite a bit of land for horse pastures. The turkeys, deer, coyotes, raccoons and foxes are running out of room to live in peace around here.
My mother-in-law said she saw a fisher cat early one morning last week. I hope I see one someday, and yet I am terrified for that moment. My dad told me they sound like someone screaming in the woods, and that really interested me so I did some research. I found some pictures and boy, are they ferocious-looking! I wouldn't want to cross a fisher cat. Yikes!
That open land I found a few weeks ago off Melody Lane - I've been visiting its edge regularly on my bike rides and with the baby on our walks. Lots of good birds over there, and hardly any cars, at least not in the day when everyone's at work. I looked on a map to see the shape of the land and whether it had a name. None that I could find, but I did visit the other side and I found a sign proclaiming it a wildlife refuge and prohibiting hunting. I wonder if that means it's open to the public. It seems sort of swampy but I'd go in prepared.
I was out for a bike ride one afternoon this week. I debated bringing my binocs, because I know if I bring them, I'll look at birds and that is not exercise. I should use my half-hour of bike time to get my heart pumping. So I didn't bring them. But boy did I regret that! As soon as I was too far from home to make it worth turning back for them, waves and waves of Canada geese appeared over the horizon. I heard their cacophony even before I saw them. They flew in over me and seemed to turn at a right angle and head off beyond Neutaconkanut Hill. I watched the last string disappear, bade them have a nice winter and pedaled off.
The leaves have been gorgeous this year. If I recall correctly, RI gets the good leaves about 2 weeks before NYC, and NYC gets spring flowers maybe a whole month earlier than RI does. My mother-in-law drove baby and me to Putnam, CT, today for an appointment, and I couldn't believe the difference a few weeks makes in terms of foliage. When last we drove that way in mid-October, the trees were brilliant in all their flaming glory - red, orange, yellow, brown, gold, and green. Now the hillsides are a nearly uniform shade of rust - at least the trees that still have leaves are. The Great Dump is upon us, and soon I will find some innocent leaf pile to storm!
Monday, October 5, 2009
starting him young
I took my little hatchling for an afternoon walk on this lovely fall day. I wanted to test out his new fancy stroller on our suburban streets. He really liked lying in its bassinet and watching the sky, trees, and birds whiz by. And for a mile-and-a-half walk, we saw some great birds.
blue jay
cardinal
robin
catbird
turkey vulture
mockingbird
mourning dove
grackle
song sparrow
osprey
The osprey seemed out of place in our neighborhood, since we're nowhere near water. I'm so glad I looked up!
A few days ago in the early afternoon, we spotted three red-tails over Neutaconkanut Hill. A day before that I thought I spotted a peregrine falcon, but I didn't have my binocs with me to be sure. The one time I didn't toss them in the stroller basket!
I discovered this odd patch of meadow in the middle of our neighborhood. Unfortunately, it's surrounded by mounds of dirt that I can't get a stroller over. But the edges of the meadow are home to many types of trees and brush, and today I found this area is home to lots of birds. The hatchling and I will be visiting that place again tomorrow!
blue jay
cardinal
robin
catbird
turkey vulture
mockingbird
mourning dove
grackle
song sparrow
osprey
The osprey seemed out of place in our neighborhood, since we're nowhere near water. I'm so glad I looked up!
A few days ago in the early afternoon, we spotted three red-tails over Neutaconkanut Hill. A day before that I thought I spotted a peregrine falcon, but I didn't have my binocs with me to be sure. The one time I didn't toss them in the stroller basket!
I discovered this odd patch of meadow in the middle of our neighborhood. Unfortunately, it's surrounded by mounds of dirt that I can't get a stroller over. But the edges of the meadow are home to many types of trees and brush, and today I found this area is home to lots of birds. The hatchling and I will be visiting that place again tomorrow!
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