Rocky River Reservation

Forty degrees felt positively balmy today! It was so nice to be able to hike in a light jacket and abandon my gloves. Despite the warmer weather, the packed snow on the trails is still significant. And now that it’s begun to thaw, it’s icy and slick. We walked carefully finding purchase in the deeper snow at the trail’s edge and holding on to trees as we descended hills.

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?

It’s cold. The sky is gray. My boots squeak on the packed snow of the path. There are icy patches that threaten to sweep me off my feet. When the wind picks up, trees knock together and little puffs of snow tumble from their branches. My fingers are numb inside my gloves and I tuck them into my palms to try to get some feeling back. I cradle the camera like an infant so my hands don’t have to touch its cold frame. Here and there, a little bird moves in the bushes. Even colder weather and lots of snow is in the forecast. I wonder if the critters can tell it’s coming. I hope they will find shelter.

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

We took an old trail today. It’s one I hiked when Grace was newborn and our dog was a golden retriever named Emma. The once familiar path is different now. It bends around fallen trees and diverts to avoid a spot where a chunk of the cliff has fallen into the river below. It’s wild to think that it’s been 17 years since this was my go-to hike.

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!

It was cold this morning. A wispy mist trailed over the ponds near Rocky River Nature Center. We emerged from the woods and stood, watching for movement on the water or along the banks that might give away a beaver. We were just starting to move away, when Grace grabbed my arm. Beaver!

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.

We got up and out early in hopes of seeing beaver this morning. The sun had just broken the horizon and it was cold. We scoured the marsh but saw no activity. The woods were quiet too. We walked to a spot where I always see at least a few little birds. As we approached, I saw a man walking towards us. He stepped off the trail to a tree stump and then stepped back onto the trail without pausing. When he had passed, I approached the stump and realized that he had deposited a small handful of peanuts into the stump. No wonder I always see birds here! This quiet benefactor is leaving a meal for them.

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.

Thick mist shrouded the marsh.  The surface of the water was white with residual ice.  Shimmering wound through where ducks had swum.  Faint outlines of trees hovered on the banks.

A few mallard ducks murmured quietly among the reeds.  Otherwise, the woods were hushed.  Then, I spotted a large shape in a misty treetop.  I zoomed in.  An eagle!  As I tried to focus on it, another swooped in and landed nearby.

We made our way around the marsh to try to get a closer look at the pair.  Bushwhacking with Chuck tethered to my waist is not easy, but we managed to get close enough for a decent view before the birds had enough of our clumsy approach and moved off to a distant perch.

Today, we headed down to the Rocky River Reservation. We parked at the marina and headed across the bridge into the park. It was cold and dreary. Right away, we heard a rustle and spotted two deer foraging in the woods near the trail. We walked for quite some time without seeing any wildlife. I could hear ducks on the river quacking at each other and squirrels rustling in the leaves. Suddenly, four blue jays appeared together in the same tree. I see jays all the time, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen them grouped like that. They seemed to be paired off and I managed to get close enough to see one couple perched together. We moved a few steps down the trail when I heard a call and saw a rustle in the trees. A pair of small hawks swooped down and one perched quite near the trail. It looked nervous at first, but must have decided that we were not a threat because it stayed a long time while I watched and took pictures of its various poses. Its partner was not so bold. It stayed safely out of sight.

We were almost back to the car when there was a flurry of birds all around. Finches, dark eyed juncos and even some small woodpeckers fluttered across the trail. They were all calling and flying here and there in a big hurry. I’m not sure why they were gathered in this particular spot, but it was quite a show. Then, just overhead, I caught sight of a pileated woodpecker. I’ve been trying to get a clear shot of one for months, and I thought today was my lucky day. But the bird was obscured behind a tangle of small branches and I couldn’t get a clear shot.