Cool Universe

Take it Outside!

Walk Diary: Mockingbirds, Orioles and Snappers

Monday morning, 8 a.m. 5/24 – Cloud / Showers - cool.

The hawk called several times on my walk-in. I tried to follow the sound with my ears to locate the bird, but was unsuccessful. Two red-winged blackbirds chased each other, with vigor, near the small the pond.

As I rounded the curve up the hill toward the wooded cove, I stopped in my tracks. A mallard male was waddling across the walk from the street side. Rather astonished, I watched and waited for him to reach the safer side. I realized he was heading for a tree and a hen was sitting beneath waiting for him. When they were together I passed quietly along.

At water’s edge near the park’s far end, the solitary mallard was again at his meditation. I started out a later today and didn’t expect to see him. I wonder what he thinks about.

Something must be in the air, for heading back, a Canada goose stood in the walkway before me. I halted again, preferring not to disturb the bird and eager to see what it was up to. It left the asphalt and joined its partner, which I had not noticed at first. They were in small area of soft, green grass between the trees. Unconcerned by my presence, they reached down with snaking, black necks to pluck at it.

Max and the two shepards came running out of his yard with their person bringing up the rear. We walked together the rest of the way, talking of animals and people. I told her about the Sunday of the fisher and she talked of many wildlife rescues she’d made in the park over the years.

Tuesday morning, 5/25 – Cloudy - cool.

Three mallard drakes erupted from the bushes next to the water and flew low in front of me. One of them left the trio, looking like he was heading for the trees.

After that, on the grassy mound to the right-hand side of the walk, I noticed a 14-inch, black mound with disturbed earth around it. It was a female snapping turtle attempting to lay her eggs. I remembered that park regulars had told me a good number of snappers crawled all the way up to the playground to lay their eggs, certainly an unpromising venue for the next generation of turtles. I wished this mother wasn’t out in the open, but, I suppose, she started in the darkness when no one else was around. Now, however, in daylight, every walker would pass by and most would notice her. I hoped they would leave her in peace. I continued on.

When I was at the far end of the park, I confirmed the presence of the mockingbird. Both my daughter and had remarked that we were awakened to a bird concert somewhere in the hour of four on Monday morning, then, after dark, I heard singing in the backyard, so I had my suspicions. I saw the silhouette on the ground. Mockingbirds hold themselves in a distinct way and the angle of the tail, held high, tipped me off, then, startled, it took flight, clearly showing off those lovely, white wing patches.

On the way out of the park now, I hoped against hope that the snapping turtle might be done with her task, or have gone off to a more secluded spot, but there she was. The call of nature was too strong, she has no choice but to devote herself to making life continue, no matter how awful the circumstances, no matter how terrible the odds for survival. I could only whisper, “Good luck, mama.”

As I walked on, sober thoughts of turtles in mind, my eye caught a fiery flash rising up from the pine needle beach. It lighted on a tree branch, - a Baltimore Oriole with its resplendent orange body, handsomely accented by black wings. It is the first I’ve seen in Springfield in memory!

Wednesday morning, 5/26 – Cloudy - Damp - Cool.

It is 5:30 A.M. and there are two joggers here, a man and a woman and not together, separately crazy. I hoped it would be just me and the wildlife, but, after seeing the joggers, it was relatively quiet. The blackbirds were at it, as usual, but the two pairs of mourning doves that greet me coming in under the pines were not around yet. Frogs called, and far off I heard the hawk cry. A single mallard lifted from the small pond and flew past, my single waterfowl encounter. No geese were to be seen, nor was my meditating drake at his place.

I inspected the turtle nesting site, a single, roundish depression amid many smaller upturned clods of turf. This isn’t soft sand and must have required a great deal of effort to excavate. As I made my way I looked for signs of fresh digging, and even though I walked right down to the water’s edge at the clearings, I saw nothing. Was my snapper on the vanguard of the egg-laying season, or is she the only female left?

Birds were vocal sparrows, robins, a cardinal and, I think, a mockingbird, or oriole sang me out of the park. As I write this, I am on a plane to Florida’s Gulf coast to visit my daughter. Tomorrow I hope to recount a walk in the semi-tropics!

Thursday, 5/27 – Monday, 5/31

Florida is full of bright blooming flowers and is bird-rich, but it is also incredibly, mercilessly hot from quite early in the morning. I did not walk to Green Key Beach, which is about a mile and half from the house, but I did spend time at the backyard boat dock watching herons, egrets and osprey fish in the brackish bay surrounded by mangroves. When the tide is out you can see oysters clinging to the mangrove branches.

The water is full of mullet, a fish that can get quite large. You learn this because they launch their silvery bodies out of the water and up into the air descending with a splash. Often, they jump high and, frequently, make successive leaps. It is excellent entertainment.

In my daughter’s yard, I noted a mockingbird family lives out front, starlings and blue jays eat food left in the dog bowls. I see lots of doves and a type I have not observed in Springfield --- I am delighted by the numbers of lizards, anoles, which skitter along the pavement, up fences, houses, nearly everywhere here. Most are about four inches long, with their tails. Their body color is grayish or brownish and sometimes black with white spots. The males have a reddish pouch under their chins which they swells out to look forbidding. This behavior is often accompanied by head bobbing, which is fun to observe.

A dark, spotted anole took over my daughter’s front door. He’d climb up the screen to one of the small glass panes, as if to look inside and see what we were doing. Everyone took special care not to harm him, or let him get into the house when we used the door. Over the next few days, it seemed he had moved himself into a drain pipe that ran down the side of a column holding up the entry roof.

I did take two good walks, both on Clearwater Beach and both at night. The sand on this world-renowned beach is white, fine and incredibly soft. Each step is a luxurious, foot massage. The only problem was that I didn’t walk far before my muscles, from calf to… well, you know, started protesting and I was feeling winded. My daughter and I made our way to the water’s edge. There the sand is wet, compacted and makes a relatively, unyielding surface, easy to walk on. The nature here was exclusively human nature. I observed other walkers, a few bathers, some lovers and a greater number of drinkers. Near the pier, I saw the most exotic specimen. There was a young man moving gracefully through postures that looked like martial arts practice, while he simultaneously twirled a rope with fire blazing from each end.

Later, after our last walk, a close encounter with a heron-like bird was nearly disaster for us, the bird and a car behind us. Driving along an unlit stretch, a slim, grayish form, about two feet tall, appeared, seemingly, out of nowhere and was casually walking across the highway! My daughter’s quick reflexes barely averted hitting the bird. She assured me, using her rearview mirror, that the car behind us managed to do the same. That bird had had a close call, but, I suspect, its nerves weren’t jangling half as much as ours were just then.

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