We were fortunate to get out of the neighborhood a couple times through the course of the week. First, we visited our old stomping ground – the Tremont towpath. Chuck seemed excited and darted from side to side, her nose busy in the grasses along the trail. I imagine she could smell her old friends and acquaintances and left her mark to let them know she’d come for a visit.

The river was busy with gulls and geese and ducks of all sorts. They swam and fluttered and clucked and chattered. I was thrilled to see flocks of mergansers chasing each other here and there. A lone redhead looked for friends first among the mergansers and then among the mallards before settling in amongst the gulls.

Later in the week, we hiked through the mist at Bradley Woods. I love the way the low fog makes even a familiar place feel mysterious. I heard the geese honking at each other before I spotted them wading at the edge of the pond. Robins foraged in the field and it inspired false hope that spring might be here soon.

The ponds and wetlands are still encased in ice. We walked by a huge beaver dam and saw a little patch of open water around it. The river is breaking loose of the ice. In some spots, water is flowing. I hoped to spot some waterfowl, but we saw only a single goose, which flew, honking, overhead.

Most of the activity today came from the squirrels. They always strike the same pose: perched on a branch, back to a tree trunk, tail curled overhead. Most clutch a nut and I follow the sounds of their gnawing to find them. Chuck likes to jump up on the trunk of the tree. Even though she could never dream of reaching them, the squirrels get startled and scamper away chattering with indignation.

As we neared the end of our walk, we came to a stand of maple trees. Each one had a bag or bucket attached where park officials tapped the trees to gather the sap for maple syrup. Did you know that it takes 40 gallons of sap to produce just a single gallon of syrup?

A squirrel scrambled onto a second story window sill. It peered in the window, tucking up its paws to warm them against its chest. My backyard birds fluffed themselves. Every now and then, they shook off the snow that collected on their feathers. I marched through knee-high snow on our walks. Chuck leaped and lunged through the drifts.

This morning, the sun did rise. Its impotent rays made snowbanks sparkle and trees cast long shadows. It was -7 degrees fahrenheit when we got in the car and headed to Huntington Beach. It was so quiet on the trail. No waves lapped on the beach. The creek did not gurgle between its banks. The birds didn’t sing. The squirrels didn’t chatter. The lake looked like a lunar landscape, harsh and inhospitable. In the distance, downtown Cleveland steamed.

bluejay

eastern bluebird

downy woodpecker

downy wodpecker

female cardinal

common grackle

mourning dove

starlings

common grackle

goldfinch

squirrel

snowy woods

frozen Lake Erie

downtown Cleveland

long shadows

It begins to snow. At first, tiny flakes sift through the branches. They intensify and big flakes fall fast; Chuck and I are quickly covered in a blanket of snow. Chuck dances in circles at looks back at me, asking me to acknowledge her excitement. She gets so silly and it makes me smile. I see a couple squirrels perched on branches and pressed against the trunks of trees. They are so cute – their red fur gathers white snowflakes and the contrast is beautiful. But, I can’t bring myself to take my gloves off to take a photo and I’m worried that the camera is getting wet. I tuck it inside my coat.

Despite the cold, I feel lucky to experience this winter landscape. I think about people who live on tropic isles. Many may never experience anything like it. I imagine they romanticize the snow. It is rather romantic, actually, but the woods on winter days are not for the faint of heart. We will need a lot of fortitude in the coming days. Chuck will accept no excuses. It’s a good thing I love a wild storm!

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Red Shouldered Hawk

Red Shouldered Hawk

Red Shouldered Hawk

Red Bellied Woodpecker fending off a Starling

Tufted Titmouse

Brown-Headed Cowbird

Flicker

Flicker

White-Breasted Nuthatch

Blue Jay

Blue Jay

White-Breasted Nuthatch

White-throated Sparrow

White-throated sparrow

This week, we were blessed with a couple of “warm” days. The snow melted. The trails turned muddy. The birds and animals came out to look for food and socialize. Today, we saw a troop of 5 or 6 juvenile gray squirrels. They ran and jumped and seemed to play like little kids. The leader ran up a tall tree, then out along a branch until he could go no further. Then, he leaped to an adjacent tree and scampered down the trunk to play in the leaves on the ground. The others followed single file until each of them had demonstrated his climbing and jumping skills.

The marshes were quiet today. The woods, too, were largely still. But, every now and then, we came upon a spot with a great deal of activity. It was like the birds had all decided to meet up in one area to catch up on the gossip. Woodpeckers rapped on rotten trees. Chickadees and titmouse darted around grabbing up seeds. Squirrels munched on walnuts and berries. When we approached, they dispersed with a flutter and a scamper. But we just stood quietly until they reemerged. I was grateful for their company!

Click on an image to enlarge

Songbirds return. They dart in and out of verdant camouflage. Every now and then, we get a clear view of a tiny song sparrow or warbler perched on a branch, heart so full of song that he tips his head back and fills the air with his joyful tune. On the banks of the waterways, families of ducks and geese gather. Watchful parents herd their fluffy little babes into the water as we approach. Stately great blue herons fish among the lily pads. Busy muskrats and beavers carry grass and twigs to line their dens. Eagles glide overhead.

Golden sunshine streams down. A chorus of frogs croaks from every pool and puddle. Logs glisten with the shiny shells of basking turtles. Snakes sun themselves on rocks and on the trails.

Every year, we are overjoyed to see life returning to our favorite spots. We stalk the trails with camera and binoculars, pointing excitedly when we spot a green heron, hopping along with mohawk on display. Or a trumpeter swan pull her long neck out of the water to stare. Nature is bursting with life and promise and we wake each day excited to see what treasures she will share with us.

Spring is painting the woods with color. Tiny, delicate bluets line the trail. Bluebells and trillium and dutchman’s britches glimmer like gems amid emerald leaves. Spring peepers sing, unseen, from ponds and puddles. Redbuds and dogwoods and crab apples are bedecked with flowers.

The great blue herons have returned. The woods are noisy with birdsong again. The woodpeckers’ rat-a-tat rings out through the trees. Muskrats are gathering grass to line their nests. Everywhere you look, life is returning. It’s such a joyful time of year!

We see beaver pretty regularly, but this one was right near the bank and mostly out of the water. We had a clear and close up view as he gnawed on a branch and foraged in the mud for tasty morsels. He finally noticed us and swam into a more secluded spot. Fortunately, we could stand above him and continue to observe. Chuck sat down next to me and didn’t move a muscle! Eventually, the cold started getting to us and we had to stand and move around. The beaver looked at us, and slowly slipped into the water and made his away to the lodge.

We spotted an eastern bluebird, its feathers fluffed against the cold. It looked toward the morning sun as if encouraging its warming rays. We watched ducks and geese putter around the pond. A few geese already seem to have claimed nesting spots on little islands of sticks and debris.

We’ve been watching a pair of red tailed hawks preparing their nest and we stopped to see if there was any activity. A passerby told us the nest had been abandoned, but Grace didn’t believe him. She stood, watching with her binoculars, waiting for our friends. Chuck and I wandered up the path a bit. We stood near the bank of the pond not looking at anything in particular. Suddenly, a flurry of wings and fur came flying up the bank and wheeled abruptly right in front of us!

The red tailed hawk was in hot pursuit of a little black squirrel. It had the squirrel in its talons, but somehow the squirrel wriggled free. We watched as the hawk pursued its prey all around a tree. It perched, tilting its head and listening for movement. It swooped down, trying to startle the squirrel into running away. But the squirrel stood its ground. It chirped nervously, and flicked its tail from time to time, but otherwise was very still against the trunk of the tree. Finally, the hawk gave up and took off to pursue another meal.

Lately, the geese have been very vocal and we love to laugh at them as they scream at each other and flap their wings vigorously.  I never think of birds having tongues, so it’s especially funny to me to see their pink tongues protruding as they scream.

Grace spotted a red tailed hawk’s nest and we love seeing the pair work on their home together.  They bring back sticks and carefully arrange them.  As they fly to and from the nest, they can their feathers and you can really see how their earned their name.

I know we’re not free of cold and snow quite yet.  But I’ve heard the great blue herons are coming back to roost.  Before long the woods will be loud with springtime birdsong and brown will give way to green.

I can’t wait for Grace to really see the wonders of spring this year!

I stepped away and waited. Before long, the stump was busy with little birds coming and going. White-breasted nuthatches skittered up and down the tree trunk ducking down quickly to grab a nut before darting away. A tufted titmouse perched on a branch nearby to survey the situation before taking his turn at the table. Tiny black-capped chickadees disappeared entirely into the turn before popping out with little bits of food in their beaks. A few larger birds barged in – a red-bellied woodpecker and a cardinal took turns showing off their vibrant plumage, but they didn’t stay long. A sweet little downy woodpecker appeared. It was a treat to see one so close; they are shy and quick. But food trumped fear and so I was able to get a clear close view of his intricate feather pattern and the spot of red on the back of his heat. It was hard to tear myself from this busy spot, but Chuck insisted it was time to go. So, we moved away quietly, leaving the little birds to their feast.