I Forgot to Touch Grass

and found danger and beauty nearby

I’ve been a bit glum lately. (Possibly the news. I won’t belabor the obvious.) The hot and humid weather finally broke, which had kept me inside in the morning, so I resumed my walks at Timber Creek. I know I’ve advised you all to get outdoors when things are bleak, but I neglected my own advice, and my mood suffered terribly.

The first day of my return, I met a pair of talkative American Goldfinches, a bird that’s eluded my eyes for a long time. I didn’t have my camera with me, and I was too dazzled with how close they were to try my phone. The female insistently called the male, ignoring the gawking human, until he finally appeared and called back to her. I admired the beautiful pair a while before moving on, and leaving them be. They had a lot to catch up on. On my second trip, I came prepared with my camera, but the goldfinches were shy.

Another visitor had come calling, one they dared not invite in.

This morning, I saw a hummingbird, and heard Cedar Waxwings and those elusive Goldfinches, but they were deep in the branches, before they all went silent. I crossed the park from one favorite perch to another, and then heard a Gray Squirrel’s warning call, and looked to the sky in time to snap this Cooper’s Hawk as it flew from where I’d been to where I was headed. This one ensured that all I’d see or hear that morning were Gray Catbirds and squirrels warning everyone to take cover.

Except for one brave little Eastern Wood Pew-Wee. I’m proud of this photo! This small bird is more often heard than seen, at least for me. Named for their call, I hear them from spring on through autumn. Perhaps this little fellow was warning others as he sang from the low branch of a small tree instead of the usual perch in higher, deeper cover, but I was grateful. I managed to use another tree as my own cover, and approach for a zoom shot through the branches. I’ve only seen these a few times, high above, and these are my first photographs of one.

I got lucky with the background and deep focus, which brought out his details, but I couldn’t get a better angle of the stripes on his wing before he flew away to the treetops where he was more comfortable.

The catbirds were vociferous but hewed to low cover, mindful of the hawk, who followed my usual path down the creek. One step ahead of me, he frightened the other birds and kept them in cover. A Red-Bellied Woodpecker, a Song Sparrow, a Downy Woodpecker, and a small flock of Tree Swallows made brief appearances. The Great Blue Heron and Kingfisher who sometimes frequent the creek were elsewhere. The creek may be too overgrown for them; I saw the heron fly over my house a few weeks ago, perhaps looking for better hunting grounds.

On the walk back, I met a Red-Spotted Admiral on the trail.

It pays to be observant. I met some equally striking, but more aggressive fliers shortly after. A tree had fallen on the edge of the trail, which must have been home to a nest of Bald-Faced Hornets; the unbroken nest rested one step off the trail, buzzing with the white-faced yellowjacket workers as they flew in and out the holes. They have a queen and are known to “vigorously defend” a nest, so these photos were taken at full zoom.

Is the one with the bigger face on the below right the queen?

I gave the nest a wide berth after verifying that the hornets weren’t buzzing across the trail, and when I encountered two people with unleashed dogs not far from here, I warned them to leash their dogs or take another path, as their pups were about to have a very bad day if they ran up to investigate this nest.

Thankfully they took heed and turned back. The Pew-Wee was able to sing his song, despite the predator looking for a meal, and the dogs had a good run in the woods, because someone warned them to avoid the hornet’s nest. Not everyone is so lucky, but we can watch out for each other. Some things are beyond our control, but we can still watch out for each other.