maggie volk weblog

This morning was a frosty 26 degrees. I ran out in my jammies to put birdseed in the empty fly-through feeder. I heard the distinct whirr of hummingbird wings overhead and looked up. This tiny female Anna’s hummingbird had come to perch at our red saucer-shaped feeder for a much needed breakfast energy drink and was literally knocked from feeding by a sudden agressive fly-by from a more robust and chirping red-throated male. Hummingbirds go into a torpor on a cold winter’s night, so when they first awake at dawn and “get out of bed” they have a very cold body temperature and they have to work hard to warm up. This bird did not seem to be getting a very warming start. And now it clumsily tumbled off backwards and fell fluttering down onto the English ivy at the walkways edge where I was standing. And laid there still, in shock, looking so cold. I stooped to cup her into my hands with her head sticking out, being mindful of her splayed wings and tail, intending to offer warmth and security, not to capture her. I could feel her rapidly beating heart and her initial trembling, but she seemed to almost immediately simply relax. I held her cupped for many minutes, standing out there at the feeders. Three other hummingbirds, including the attacking alpha male culprit, all perched nearby in the maple observing me intently, emitting little chirps and clicks.After a time, when I opened my hands to encourage her to fly away as she should, warm steam arose in the frigid air. But she continued to grip my finger with her tiny feet, and perched casually looking about, I’m assuming choosing to stay in that warm spot. I delicately stroked her tiny feathered head, adoring this close-up moment, and peered closely at all her viewable tiny features and her tiniest of feathers. But I was getting very cold myself and honestly worried about the implications of my human intervention with this wild life, so I had to encourage her to hop off onto the huckleberry bush by our kitchen door, and then she flew off slowly like a big bumblebee. It’s a hummingbird’s life, and I hope she makes it through the cold weather.

The coldest day is also the sunniest. The dawn was hot pink. I had to go out and bring in the hummingbird feeders to thaw. The birds will be late getting out of their beds this morning, I think, because it is 25 degrees.

It is a constant battle keeping the squirrels from wrecking havoc with the bird feeders. It’s an expensive endeavor, feeding the birds, and I don’t want to add “squirrel” food to the bill. So generally I have to rush out several times a day to chase one off. This one got it’s picture taken instead. I like to hang this feeder high in this camellia because the hummingbirds seem to feel safe here, and often sit and elaborately preen, even though in full view at my kitchen and sitting room windows. But this location makes it way too easy for the squirrel.

Not such a great picture, but thrilling to see so many cedar waxwings in our yard, in the treetops flitting about and chatting. Suddenly they rushed our huckleberry bushes and gobbled down the delicious ripe black berries whole, one by one, stripping this one little bush completely of fruit in just minutes.

Posted from my iphone to my webspace. Yes!

With the lake drained, we won’t be doing any paddling on it this fall, a disappointment.

So, we retrieved our kayaks from the easement and brought them home for storage. Yesterday, in an unusually adventurous mode, we tied the kayaks on the Volvo racks and drove down to the Sellwood Bridge Park public paddle boat launch on the Willamette River. It was our first time taking our own little 9 1/2 ft. boats out on the big river, but I had gone out from this launch once before, in demo boats from Next Adventure.

It was a perfect paddle day, clear blue skies, little wind and warm sunshine. Since it was my first time out, I especially love that surprise of seeing things for the very first time. As I was paddling slowly along the edge of a wild area, I noticed in the dappled light through the bushes on the beach, three male wood ducks and a couple of drab colored females. The patterns and colors on the males flashed clearly in the sunshine, and I was thrilled to add these families of beautiful Wood Ducks to my life list of birds I have seen with my own eyes in the wild. Being noticed, and my outburst of wordy joy, flushed them out and they flew off.

Now I’m looking out at the lake, which has just been drained to accommodate the next phase of the sewer replacement project.

When we found out it was going to happen, I looked forward to it with a deep feeling of sadness. I will really miss looking at the water, the mesmerizing reflections, but especially I will miss the geese, the ducks, the coots, grebes and the herons who have wintered in the shelter of Half Moon Bay every winter before.

Nothing stays the same. I can be sure that each new day will bring a surprise. But the morning Kitty died was the worst of surprises. She was doing great one day, and then the next morning she collapsed, unable to walk, throwing up, panting. There was no explanation in my mind other than thinking she had been poisoned somehow, and I had to take her to a veterinarian immediately for an antidote and some recovery time. However, they assessed the situation to be mortal, and basically insisted I authorize them to euthanize my friend. It was not something I wanted to do, nor had ever even considered such a scenario. My cat would die in her sleep at a very very old age, in peace at home. But no. My cat died when they injected her with some chemical I don’t even know the name of. It made everyone uncomfortable that I was not ready to let them proceed. I wanted to give her time, let us see how it may come to pass naturally, but they were intent on hastening the deed, getting on to other customers, getting me out of their office. I was distraught, upset, sad as hell. But not hysterical. They couldn’t make me leave her side. I had to be with her. I had to be close and touch her fur and softly talk to her. I kept telling her, it’s OK Kitty. But it wasn’t OK. And it was awful when I finally consented. I will never forget the moment from life to death. And then, through my tears, I looked deep into her open eyes, and it is true, there is no glint of light.

I took my dead cat home curled up in a small FedEx box. We buried her out in the yard, and planted pansies. At home for a couple of days I grieved deeply. And we all miss her.

The house is not the same without her around.

My best friend died on April 12. I have a big hole in me right now, as my cat has been with me for 15 years, that’s 5475 days that she has brought joy, meaning and reason to my life. I will always think of her. Thanks for being my kitty. Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The wild currents are in full bloom. I noticed last year how many bumblebees were attracted to the blooms, as was the rufous hummingbird. I am looking forward to seeing the joyous golden rufous again, which I researched to learn has probably been wintering in Mexico and just flew over 1800 miles to be here. Although it’s still cold, and has been rainy, I have already seen a few bumblebees out bumbling about over the last week or so. I adore watching them and having them in the yard. But I haven’t gone out much, the weather has been too wet. But this morning the sun came out, and the sunlight on the bushes was magical. I spontaneously picked up my camera and went out to take some quick random shots, capture some color to put up on my blog today. I was kneeling at the base of a large current bush shooting blossom close-ups, and a bumblebee flew into my range. I zoomed in as much as I could to get the shots and held my breath. I love the moment because I didn’t think to have it.

Yesterday, something of a different nature happened. The bird watching around this old house has been fantastic, and I am always on the look-out. I was going through one of my bird books and thought to myself, I haven’t seen the Yellow Rumped Warbler for quite some time, since last summer or fall at least. Later I looked out the kitchen side door to see a Yellow Rumped Warbler at the birdbath on the patio.

I also saw many cedar waxwings! OMG so cute!

Yesterday morning a great blue heron flew into Half Moon Bay and sat up in a Douglas Fir tree in our neighbor’s yard to prune it’s long feathers in the sunshine. We saw this from our big west-looking kitchen window. There’s so much good bird watching I don’t have enough time to see it all, but in the past couple of days, additionally, I’ve seen our usual dozens of lesser goldfinches and pine siskins, house finches, chestnut-backed chickadees, black-capped chickadees, bushtits, spotted towhees, house sparrows, song sparrows, fox sparrows, hummingbirds, ravens, red breasted nuthatches, a white breasted nuthatch, flickers, a varied thrush, robins, european starlings, mallards, canadian geese, mergansers, bufflehead ducks, coots, osprey, violet-green swallows, and a band-tailed pigeon.