Spring Things

Today was a gorgeous day. Bright and sunny, with temperatures hovering around 57. The steady breezes of earlier in the week seem to have abated some.

At work, in fact, we're making a spring transition. As the days warm up, we don't need to turn the heat on before guests arrive and sometimes even prop a door to outside open once they do. Before long, though, we'll be relying on the AC to keep things comfortable. For now, these days are lovely.

Out in the garden there, these German bearded irises are blooming and how could I resist offering them as the latest entry in the 2008 Spring Purple Parade?

On another front, I've been a little remiss in sharing with you. About two weeks ago I made a video clip of one of my favorite things about this time of year: the spring peeper.

Living in the Adirondacks, the sound of these tree frogs was my annual indicator that spring truly was upon us, as their song usually coincides with the warmer rains and nights of a certain temperature (usually around 50F is when it starts). Generally, it was a song that you'd hear momentarily, as you drove or walked past some vernal pond or wetland area.

At our last place, in Eastham, we were living right on the pond and so we had the chance to get to know them a little up close and personal. They would find their way from the big natural pond up to our little plastic koi pond. On particularly rainy nights, we found them clinging to the sides of the house and the screen door.

Each spring there'd one frog who'd start. (The first link above includes recordings of the singular call, as well as the sound of the masses) He'd sing for a night or two, tentatively at first and then more decisively, as others began to emerge and add their calls to his song...and before long, a delightful natural cacophony that's part car alarm and part the sound of alien spaceships in the 60s, but at a distance often mistaken for crickets.

We found they would sing on and off throughout the summer, unless it was too hot or too cold. During the height of their spring emergence, they can be quite loud. We discovered during those times it was almost impossible to talk on the phone outside, or near an open window.

They're easier to track down when there's only one or two singing. When they're all doing their thing, it's crazy-making to try. You won't see any on this clip, but click on the "peeper" tag below and you'll find some photos from previous years.

I miss living so near to them this year; I'd grown accustomed to them. Now I'm back to only hearing them as I drive by or distantly while I'm out walking with Em in the evening. So when I found this pond not far from work, how could I resist capturing it?

With no further adieu, I present the spring peepers:

Birds, Bees, Turtles and Frogs

This little purple finch (right) has set its sights on the front of our house. A few days ago, it tried unsuc cessfully to build a nest in the light fixture over our front door.

As an option, Owen hung a ceramic bird nest nearby, in hopes it will consider this alternative. We'll see what happens, but the finch's interest hasn't waned.

I'm not sure of the identity of that higher bird, to the left.

In the same neighborhood, a female cardinal (the same one that's tried to build in the andromeda bush the last two springs, perhaps) has taken to hanging out in the lower evergreen shrub next to the andromeda...which would be fine, if she could learn to be less skittish about our comings and goings. I always feel so bad for disturbing her.
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Another beautiful Cape Cod day here, nice and sunny and relatively warm, though it's cooled off again now that it's dark.

That oriole I've been hearing has been making himself more visible, singing around from tree to tree around the whole yard, but particularly, it seems, in the trees around the fringe of the back garden.

The apple tree is beginning to blossom this weekend, and you can see the bumblers have wasted no time in planning their visits.


Had another good day of work out there today. I planted a pair of small marigold patches, and then planted some seeds (alyssum, cosmos and bachelor buttons) and a few more of the gladiolas.

I got more weeding done in one of the beds further out in my arrangements, and was happy to discover most of the tree seedlings I planted for Arbor Day last year are leafing out nicely. As these seedlings are still all less than six inches in height, you'll understand my enthusiasm.

And I also got the paths mowed and edged, so things are starting to look pretty nice out there.


I've been noticing a cowbird out in the back this past week, and also another, gray bird. And today, I realized that the gray one is a female cowbird (there's also been a catbird hanging around, which was helping me to confuse the identity of this one), when I saw the two of them cavorting together in the apple trees.

I was just enjoying a quiet moment at the end of the work when he came splashing into one of the freshly-filled birdbaths. He had a pretty elaborate session and the sounds of his bathing attracted other attention.

Overhead, a this bluejay circled around and landed at another feeder, where he had a nice drink before flying off again.

Mr. Cowbird made quite a fuss about drying off after his bath, fluttering around near the sun-warmed upper branches of the apple trees, rubbing his beak on the tree branches.

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, there were three turtles on Basking Log this afternoon. One splashed away before I even snapped a photo, but I managed to get closer than usual before the other two were disturbed.

And then there was one.


Further along the shore, an assortment of green frogs lay still in the shallow edges of the pond, waiting for bugs. It must be their hrrhm hrrhm hrrrhm we've been hearing for the last week or so.

Pondside with the Peepers

A light rain to report here last night. Started around dusk and went on more or less until midnight.

Everything in the gardens this morning looked extra green and satisfied, though I didn't have time to do more than dash past on the way to the car.

I did, however, get this shot (above) of the fog over Boat Creek Marsh as I drove by on my way to work.


After dinner I made a return to the yard, but it was really too dim to appreciate much in the gardens near the house.


With so many trees around, dusk seems to come sooner there than down at the pond's edge, and the sound of the peepers drew me through the woods, growing louder in my ears as I entered their domain.



I didn't see many of these little frogs...but I was absolutely right down in the thick of peeper activity.

Their sound is just crazy-making at close range, but totally cool, as well. It sounds somehow alien, or artificial, the sound and notes are so intense. And SO loud!!

That close, you can hear each one seperately, and that they all seem to be singing different two-note pitches...and you can hear them "changing keys"...their notes adjusting...are they trying to match the pitch of someone and then find them? I wonder if they both have to sing the same two-note song in unison...because that seems almost never to happen.

Is it all for fun? (Could they possibly think of this as work?) It sure sounds like a good time.

In the midst of the distinctive peeping, there were other sounds, too...crickets, perhaps, more of a trilling sound, maybe just a different variety of frog. Lord knows, there are plenty.


I'm sure they were communi cating plenty about the lumber ing giant come down into their midst.

Sometimes all those in the immediate area around me would go silent. And then one would come on, extra loud, perhaps exerting his sense of their territory to me, with the others resuming their songs, as well.

Whatever the peeping's about, it's completely worth spending some time in the midst of, if you're convenient to the habitat. Just make sure you have appropriate footwear: it's wet down there at the water's edge. And watch where you step!

In the pictures above, I was mostly taking pictures of the places where I'd pinpointed the peeping might be coming from. In that first image, I could convince myself I see six or seven of them, though none perfectly in focus. I left the file size large, so you can "embiggen" for study and have yourself a frog hunt.




And in case you really don't have time to spend looking for frogs (but let's be hon est ...who doesn't?), I did get this one clear-ish shot to share with you impatient types.

Drip Drip Drop...

Well, after all the crocus excitement, the last few days have been a reminder of what Spring is really like here on the Cape, which is to say, pretty darned gray and rainy. Actually, it was more just a heavy mist or fog, with occasional showers here and there...

...oh, yes, and some sleet today, as our temper atures took a tumble. Ah, well, it all counts towards keeping the water level in the pond up as summer time approaches (yes, trying to keep THAT in mind...) and it least it looks like we'll be spared the snow that many of our mainland friends will be seeing tomorrow.

In other news, the occasional songs of the red-winged blackbirds have continued to be heard, so they are back now, though I've not yet seen one. We still have a lone male bufflehead duck swimming around the pond, as well. If anyone knows a nice single female bufflehead, please point her in our direction. Of course, another male would be fun, too, since half the pleasure of having buffleheads around is watching the whacky antics as the two guys compete for the attention of Her.

Meanwhile, the peepers haven't been discouraged by the temperature drop, and probably encouraged by the April showers. Their song (which lately sounds like the kind of odd beeping sound effect most often associated with the interior shots of flying saucers in the 60s) gets louder and more varied every night, and I'm sure before long, on some rainy night, they'll take leave of the pond shore and we'll see them in the bushes up around the house.

There's an old white hyacinth growing in the bed under the bathroom window, which looks like it may be scenting the air in time for Easter. Hopefully, we'll see a little more warmth over the weekend.

2007 Festival of Saint Crocii

I was drawn out of the house this morning by a flash of springtime gold outside the kitchen door. There were two pair of these tasty looking beauties!



Finding the crocuses is always a little like hunting for Easter eggs. You know they're out there, it's just a matter of your eyes adjusting to the light, and suddenly, you can see them all over the place.



I look at one, and then the next...and then another, led in a circle around the outside of the house like an April Fool, so captivated am I by these tiny beauties.



...and then I think of the tight snow crocuses I found while raking out back yesterday...and in just a moment, I'm back there...and there they are, open happily to the bright sunshine. At the moment, they are the only thing blooming in that part of the garden...the first to welcome the season out there.





And then another flash of gold, further out into the field...as far as I've planted anything...catching my eye, leading me into the maze. I have to remember to plant more of these out there in the fall!



Mesmerized as I was by the crocuses, I still managed to get a fresh coat of paint (as promised at Christmastime) on the two windowboxes on the kitchen side of the house.

Now I just have to go out and find me some pansies. Heh heh.



Emily and I also made a trip to the Cape Cod Dog, to spend a bit of the gift certificate we won in the CCPJ raffle last weekend. Here she is modeling the new Dragonfly collar we selected.

By the way, we hope that you are all researching your pets' foods during this troubling food recall! You can get the latest word here.

The peepers in the pond are stronger in song each night (and will surely enjoy the damp week ahead) and I'm pretty sure I heard my first red-winged blackbird of the season singing down near the pond edge around dusk this evening.

Tiny Frog

 

Found this little peeper clinging to the hanging coils of hose this morning, trying to be invisible as I began the daily watering ritual.

Emily's Peeps

Emily's always talking about "my peeps", and we kind of thought she meant some sort of imaginary entourage. So, imagine our surprise these past few humid nights, to discover hundreds of these tiny little guys all around the side door gardens. Each one would have plenty of leg-room centered on a dime. (Those are miniature rhododendron leaves they gather on here, if I may offer a proper sense of scale.) 

Of course, the peeps aren't the only guys crawling around out there in the dark.