Rabbit Watching

The milkweed was meant to be the yard’s monarch nursery, but in April it became a rabbit nursery.

Rabbits April 28

Rabbits are the yard’s charismatic megafauna, and watching rabbit nests is one of my favorite obsessions.

May 4

Rabbits May 4

For the first week or so the babies never leave the nest. During that time I mostly watch their mothers.

Rabbits May 9

Rabbits May 9

Because this nest was in a tall planter, the babies could not return once they began exploring.

Rabbits May 9

May 10

Rabbits May 10

For the first few days, they crossed every open area at a run, dashing from shelter to shelter.

Rabbits May 11

When you are running faster than you think you are, and you can’t jump as high or far as you think you can, you end up tangled in the hose…

Rabbits May 11

And then your brothers and sisters laugh at you.

Rabbits May 11

The babies were on their own most of the time, but their mother visited twice a day to let them nurse. I had fun imagining the stories they told her each evening.

May 11

May 12

(After they finished nursing, of course.)

Rabbits May 12

Each day the babies explored a bit further, memorizing the best hiding places and learning how to graze.

Rabbits May 12

Rabbits May 12

Rabbits May 12

But they still gathered each night near the milkweed, waiting for their mother.

Rabbits May 12

(Squirrels do not appreciate being approached by hungry baby rabbits. The next night they were much more cautious.)

Rabbits May 13

Over the last week they have become completely independent, grazing on grass, clover, and dandelions, venturing further and further from shelter as they grow more confident.

Rabbits May 26

They are beginning to look more like rabbits than bunnies.

Rabbits May 26

Rabbits May 26

But as they become rabbits, more bunnies have arrived. There’s a new nest in the front iris bed, and I’m feeling a strong urge to read Watership Down again.

To be continued…

Light

Cosmos May 7

I can’t remember noticing, before, how the light changes as spring progresses.

Cosmos May 7

The yard’s surfaces absorb and reflect, soften and sharpen the sun’s new angle.

Iris May

Bees appear to fly through light, not air.

Bee April 29

Bee April 29

And birds strike silhouette poses, as if eager to be photographed.

Warbler April 29

Robin May 6

Is it all in my head, a side effect of spring euphoria? Or is it happening where you live, too?

Warbler May 3

If you live in the southern hemisphere, is it happening in reverse? Light reverting back to air, flattening against fall’s advance as bees and birds prepare for winter?

Spring is in the Air (and in the Ground)

Fly April 10

When the pear tree’s pollinators finally arrived, they arrived in encouraging numbers. Hoverflies were the first wave, pretending to be bees.

Fly April 10

Fly April 10

A wave of true bees followed.

Bee April 10

Bee April 10

Happily, a few Question Mark butterflies drifted in near the end.

Question Mark April 10

Question Mark April 10

While the pear blooms lasted, the yard’s winter flock of yellow-rumped warblers divided their time between sipping nectar, foraging for insects, and sampling the last block of winter suet.

Warbler April 11

Warbler April 11

(As an aside, I spotted the following warbler yesterday and was confused by its complete lack of yellow feathers. I believe it is a yellow-rumped warbler, but I’ve never seen one that didn’t have at least a blush of yellow under its wings. Please comment if you can correct or confirm my identification!)

Warbler April 22

As the pear tree dropped its petals, we readied the yard for summer. We replaced damaged boards on the aging deck, uncovered the ginger lilies, and swept leaves out of the cactus bed. (The carpenter bees ignored us and concentrated on chasing each other. They also chased warblers, chickadees, crane flies, hoverflies, beetles, bees, leaves, dandelion fluff, and pear petals.)

Bee April 22

The garden stores aren’t fully stocked yet, but we found most of the plants on our list: dill, fennel, milkweed, columbine, annual lantana, snapdragons, salvia, and cosmos.

Flowers April 22

Yesterday, this American Painted Lady butterfly made me wish we had planted more cosmos. (The yard’s 2015 butterfly sightings, so far, are a major improvement over last year’s butterfly drought, but they don’t begin to equal 2012’s impressive migration.)

Butterfly April 22

The yard’s birds have been getting ready for summer, too. This little house wren doesn’t have a mate yet, but he clearly has a favorite house.

House Wren April 21

House Wren April 21

A pair of robins finished their nest last week and now spend most of their hours foraging.

Robin April 22

Robin April 22

(I am amazed by how many worms they find and eat each day.)

Robin April 22

The robins aren’t the only efficient foragers in our area. A pair of osprey make regular passes over the yard, carrying fish. Yesterday I caught a few frames as one of the pair nearly dropped its lunch on the deck.

Osprey April 22

After a brief struggle, which lasted no more than two wingbeats, the osprey managed to subdue its lunch and flew on. What would happen if the fish managed to break free? Would the osprey land on my deck and reclaim its catch? (I’d probably drop my camera and break it, leaving me with no proof of why I dropped it…)

Over the years I’ve found many surprising things in the yard, but never a fish. Perhaps this summer?

Osprey April 22

Except, it’s not summer yet. Today the windows are closed against a surge of chill that moved in overnight and is forecasted to last through the next few days. Mother would have called it dogwood winter, expecting the dogwoods to bloom after the chill passed. Or blackberry winter, if the blackberries were due to bloom. I’m content to call it the end of winter.

Hawk April 18

Grackles, Crows, and Hawks

Crow and Grackle April 10

With so many birds building nests in the yard, conflicts are inevitable. The grackles have been particularly testy over the last few days, mobbing crows whenever the larger birds enter the yard’s airspace.

Crow and Grackle April 10

And the crows, who routinely retreat once the grackles have spotted them, will not tolerate the presence of a hawk. Sunday morning I managed to capture a few images as three crows chased a Cooper’s Hawk back and forth over the yard.

Hawk April 12

Hawk April 12

Hawk April 12

Hawk April 12

Hawk April 12

About ten minutes after the chase circled off to the north, I spotted another hawk in a tree two yards over. (Or maybe it was the same hawk, returning for another try at breakfast?) The grackles saw it, too, and began voicing their alarm. Soon a pair of blue jays arrived, also calling alarm. None of the commotion seemed to bother the hawk, until an approaching group of crows added their caws to the chorus. Then it gave up and moved off to try its luck in a quieter hunting spot.

Hawk April 12

Which led me to ponder the relationships between larger and smaller birds. Why would a larger, stronger bird flee from smaller birds? I suspect it has something to do with energy conservation, it simply being easier to leave when you aren’t hungry enough to risk losing a few feathers, but I wonder what they are all thinking as they call and chase and flee.  And how will their reasoning change, when hungry nestlings enter the equation?

Photos of Spring and a Publication Note

Flowers April 6

The daffodils, all three of them, bloomed this week. As did the pear tree.

Grackle April 6

While it has plenty of bird visitors, the pear tree hasn’t seen its usual complement of pollinators.

Robin April 6

The pear blooms usually draw bees and beetles by the hundreds, but many of the pollinators seem to be sleeping in this year. Yellow-rumped warblers are getting most of the nectar.

Warbler April 6

The pear tree’s pollinators may be sleeping in, but the carpenter bees are awake and active. Territorial males have claimed pockets of airspace near the house, fence, and deck. Their physiology must be wondrously efficient, because they patrol and defend their claims with seemingly endless vigor, never pausing to eat. They aren’t interested in nectar. They’re waiting for females to arrive.

Carpenter Bees April 6

My favorite news from the yard this week comes from the milkweed. It survived our long, cold winter, which means we might have more monarchs this year!

Milkweed April 6

My favorite other news involves a publication note. My short story “Numbers” is now posted at The Blue Hour Magazine. This is my first fiction publication!

“Numbers” is the first short story I ever attempted. For nearly ten years I returned to it periodically, each time applying what I had learned since its last revision. Finally, in 2013, the story seemed to defy further revision. By then the opening had been entirely restructured and the word count cut by more than half. That year “Numbers” won Honorable Mention in the Frank Lawlor Memorial Fiction Prize at the Hampton Roads Writers’ Conference.

I let “Numbers” drift to the bottom of my to-do pile after its award, but in January of this year I decided to give the story one final edit and begin submitting it for publication. Then I selected a new practice manuscript from the archive, because I am not through learning. My journey with “Numbers” has reached a happy and satisfying conclusion, but my journey with writing will never end.