Nothing to hear, either

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeach!

Starts high, and slowly bends higher over about 3-5 seconds.

For a long time, I thought it was distressed squirrels, but they are usually quiet at night.  It all started at night, when open windows in the woods invited a full orchestra of nature's players and singers.

Then we started thinking more judiciously, and ruled out rodents.  We were open to the idea that the many barred owls in the area have to mate, and maybe that crazy sound was coming from a nest.

But then, the sound started to be heard during the day.  And never really from the same exact place.

So, I decided I would locate the source.  It took a few weeks (I didn't try too hard at first), and finally saw one of the two critters responsible for this.

Today, Hannah and I stumbled out with the binoculars to inspect more closely.  At one point, the two babes shared a tree within about 30 feet of hunting mama.  They are big, but still quite a bit smaller than the adult barred owls who frequent our place.  And fuzzy.  Unlike the adults, who betray no care for our presence, these kids follow us with their huge eyes and dance to try to focus.

I am holding out hope that it is such things that will prevail when she is called to live in the "civilized" world, you know, the city.  Overcrowded and rhymes with shi....never mind.

Maybe she will think of the animal preserve she once called home from time to time and long for it.  But then, I am just sappy enough to believe memories more powerful than the smoke and mirrors of highly populated human containment zones.

Well, it would be gloating, if it wasn't Minnesota...

Full moon.  Still evening in the woods.  Nope, nothing to see here.

Traffic Jam

Oh yes, there's also the matter of May being the official month of the great "don't fit the turtles" commute.

Only the diameter of your average frying pan, but these dudes are mean.  When they take command of the road, it's time to hit the brakes and hope you turned off the stove.  Last year, one tried to lay eggs in my driveway.  A scary world, indeed.  I can see why the city folk stay away!

Bird is the Word

This charming fella just can't keep away. In fact, that empty suet cage was full about 6 hours before this picture was taken. Makes me wonder who the wild animal really is. But then, that goes with the turf when you live in the middle of (ahem) nowhere.

 

Morning Stroll

May 4 and the lake is still (half) frozen over.

NBD, says Eddie the Eagle.  Though he is looking a bit scrawny at the moment.

I need to stop looking out the back window.  Nothing to see.

Spring Surprise

Again, our regular visitors are back.

Though this time, a solo appearance. It is amazing how quickly the girls have learned to be quiet and still, to savor these moments.

But who am I kidding? Surely we are catching illusions, a life far too heathen and distant from the places where real humans dwell.

The girls don't seem to know that, yet.

Hope endures.

A Drippy Outlook

A garbage can full of, water?

Some sort of sick dialysis for trees?

An outdoor incinerator?

And a jar of dark goo?

If it looks like nothing, it must be.  Or so might conclude the untrained eye, upon assembling these disparate pictures of a Spring tradition in Minnesota.  But we know, of course, that this is a contemporary take on an old practice, a mode of survival for our ancestors and families of the non-so-distant past.

No doubt, this Spring has been among the oddities of what is otherwise a cherished time in the land of 10,000 lakes.  But do not hasten to call it a disappointment.  What began here as a project to collect a dozen gallons of maple sap has blossomed into a battle to contain more than 100.

In less than two weeks, two large plastic garbage cans and about 20 pails of slightly sweet water will be converted into one of God's treasures for the creative, unrelenting, stubborn minds of Northern dwellers.

But don't be confused if it all seems more than a little strange.  Just avert your eyes.  Nothing to see here.