Welcoming Summer: A Fort Hill Walk

It was these clouds that drew me to Fort Hill.

I was already on my way to Eastham, as banking was scheduled as part of yesterday morning's activities, since I've not yet gotten my sh*t together about direct deposit. I'm a little wary of giving control of my money to computers, truth be told, and so for now, I'm still making weekly trips back that way.

Even more honestly, I miss living in Eastham. It's a terrific little town I've lived in on and off for much of the last ten years, and I've explored it in the car, on my bicycle and on foot. It's as much home to me as anywhere. A place that's familiar to me, where I am comfortable. I haven't really explored Harwich much yet, though hopefully the summer will bring such opportunities. But I like being in Eastham and so I suspect the weekly banking trips are my way to keep going back.

And it's that time of year when - work commitments allowing - it's easy enough to be let oneself be distracted from the beaten path.

I spotted the cloud when it was still just one large puffy mass, as I drove east on Route 6. It was just hitting the breezes off the ocean as it drifted across the outer beach and as I drove, I could see it splitting into four distinct chimneys. I wish I'd pulled over to take a photo then, as it was quite a sight.

I wanted a nice open spot to do so, though, and so I decided a detour to Fort Hill was just what I needed. Plus, I wanted to see if the lupines were blooming.

Fort Hill sits just above Nauset Marsh, which is protected from the Atlantic's surf by the barrier of the Outer Beach. There's a small parking lot on the hilltop, which is a wonderful place to sit and look in all directions.

It's also one of my favorite spots in Eastham for star-gazing, something I used to do often on the way home from late-night work shifts. There are no streetlights, which makes it ideal for meteor shower viewings and spying ships passing the Cape far out to sea late at night. On the right summer occasions, it can offer a view of distant fireworks displays.

If I were an early riser, I imagine it'd be perfect for sunrise, too.

There's a series of nature trails in the area, the first of which slopes down from the parking area to Doane Rock, a great boulder which sits on the shore of the marsh and offers more views along the shoreline.

Standing atop the rock, it's easy to imagine one of the area's native population doing the same while scouting the area in the days before Europeans arrived.

On the hillside that slopes down toward the marsh and Orleans town cove, it's a wild jumble of green, hosting an assortment of twining vines, yarrow, wild roses (many of those tiny white ones I've mentioned so much of late), milkweed, buttercups and also, a great stand of lupines.

I missed the height of the show this year, sort of on purpose, since I wanted to be sure I was able to collect a little seed. I did find a few still in bloom, but they were fairly far off the path.

Leaving the path really needs to be a careful business, as this is one of those areas Mother Nature protects with one of her fiercest defenders, those dreaded Leaves of Three, poison ivy.

I was well-clad, though, and have no interest in a another of those episodes, so caution was high.

Not only did I get a great photo, but also snapped off a small stalk of fully-formed seedpods. I'll hang it to dry and hopefully have seed to plant later this summer.

Further along the path, these pink rose blossoms drew me in with their brilliant happy colors and sweet fragrance.

You never know what you'll see at Fort Hill, from a wildlife standpoint. Gulls are a regular sight, of course, and rabbits. But I have also surprised in my headlights, when arriving for some of those star-gazing sessions, owls and foxes, and other occasions, spied herons in the waters of the marsh.

Today's sighting was this red-winged blackbird, who perched in a dead treetop just above the rock. There were other people wandering around the rock today, so I didn't climb it. Nor was I able to stay and explore as long as I might have liked.

The path near the rock offers some great views of it's own, both into the green marsh itself and of the mighty Atlantic Ocean beyond. (By the way, Atlantic, Robin says "hey, how's everything?".)

Lingering to enjoy the views meant being able to inhale more of that rose-scented air, which I did for a few minutes, until the cloud of cologne accompanying a newly-arrived clump of out-of-place tourists overpowered nature's roses and I knew it was time to move along to the rest of my day.


But not before capturing a few more shots of this special place to bring along with me. Look at that cloud - it thinks it's a whale or a mermaid.

Floating Garden

Rain overnight has brought fresh flood waters to the garden bed out front, making yesterday's new crocus look a little more like a water lily this morning.

I'm happy to see that it's less of an issue than earlier in the year, thanks to my efforts to raise the level of the garden a little...but I can see there's still a section that needs work.

Even if I raise the bed level, there's still the issue of the flooding in front of it. This could work to actually water the garden, I suppose. Many of the plants here had relations who grew nicely in the meadow in Eastham, which flooded every spring...so I might not have too much to worry about, in regard to loss. But there are a few things which could suffer, so I'm hoping to find time to address this issue soon...especially with a month of April showers potentially stretching out before us.

One idea I'm considering is running gravel-lined channels diagonally through the bed, which might serve the garden, irrigation-wise. We'll see. I'm not settled on a plan yet, and I am still waiting to see where certain plants emerge as spring progresses (I didn't have time to diagram where everything ended up in the fall)...and the flooding issue does make it hard to think about installing the soaker hose I'm intending to utilize here.

There was a big Crow Council Meeting in the trees out back late this afternoon, despite continuing shower-y-ness.

I could hear both red-winged blackbirds and crows in the mix, and who knows who else might've been in attendance...it was hard to see them clearly.

I can't help but wonder what it is they discuss. Weather forecasts, windspeeds, where the new bird feeders and bird baths are this year, if something can be done about the gulls and the hawks...who knows?

In any case, the meeting broke up before long, perhaps due to the brown dog barking in the yard below. I'm impressed to see that there are nearly a hundred or maybe more birds in the cloud they made as they took off. Maybe the birds have Town Meeting, too.

Silly birds, everyone knows it's impossible to have an even-slightly productive meeting late on a Friday afternoon.

My guess is they were just meeting up to head off to the local watering hole for Happy Hour at the end of a long bird week.

Garden Day

The day got off to a slower start than expected. The new furnace decided to take last night off, so the earlier part of my day off was about huddling around coffee to warm up, and blogging as I waited for the repair guy. A loose connection was discovered and all is well now...grrr...but it took a long hot shower to finally bring me around on being good for anything.

I did finally rake much of the winter's debris out of the garden and the bits of the lawn adjacent to the garden...and then had to take a break as the sky darkened and we had a twenty minute downpour...which was followed by a few minutes of snow flurries.

Finally, thin gold threads of sunlight began to break through the clouds and I was able to return to the task of adding some topsoil to the garden beds. Spread out, the cumulative dirt of seven bags doesn't substantially raise the level of the garden, so that task remains. But it looks nice for spring, so a task well-done.

The grass along the street-side of the garden was sopping wet (it rained pretty hard) though you can't see it in the picture. That's what last year's sneakers are for, though!

Here's the discovery that excited me the most, these tiny red leaves of heliotrope! They are very small at this point (I heart macrofocus!), but I look forward to big things from them. I've had heliotrope grow taller than me, but never in this full sun location which it's bound to love.

This clump of shasta daisy and grape hyacinth foliage is evidence of the Buddy Rule I try to encourage when moving the garden: perennials find a bulb or two as "nursery pot partners" for the travel from one yard to the next.

That way the bulbs travel underground and I disturb them as little as possible and I don't have to deal with twice as many pots.

There are daylilies a-plenty in the border garden. Of course we'll have to wait to see which ones are which. The growth pattern here makes me think of the one I bought at the yard sale last summer, which was yellow...but we'll see.

The pond's been running again for about a week and the fish are beginning to wake up. A frog who traveled from Eastham didn't get around to hibernating, and has now gone on to swamp heaven (I assume there's plenty of flies...), but all the fish seem well.

So, I was standing on the back deck, taking this picture of the tree out back--I think it's an oak, we'll know soon--to show you all the leaf buds getting ready to pop.

I glanced away for a moment, my attention captured by some raindrops on rose vines which didn't photograph well...and I heard a familiar cheee-nk sound from the treetop and saw a single black bird.

And then, the Red-Winged Blackbirds returned from Florida, or wherever it is they go for the cold months. But suddenly, they were back, all of them singing "I feel pretty ", though no one particularly in tune or tempo with anyone else.

I quickly began counting and got to 26 before there was another rustling of wings and their number nearly doubled. They weren't marauding like the starlings do. Each took a branch and stayed there, no doubt enjoying the sun's warm rays before it sank below the horizon, and catching their breath after a long flight. I eventually counted 43.

They were gone again a few minutes later, but it's nice to know they're back and we'll be hearing their songs again.

I picture them all flying off to check in to their trees and branches for the summer season, maybe shaking tiny sheets off of dusty little Adirondack chairs and airing out last year's nests where they remain from winter storms, and starting fresh where they don't.

And so it begins.

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.