Watching a bird incubate is not very exciting.
Lady Baltimore spends most of her time in the nest. So, I spend most of mine watching her sit. Or rather, watching her tail, which is mostly all that I see. By my calculations, it’s about time for her babies to start hatching, one per day for four or five days. And a cowbird, too, if the interloper I caught scoping out the nest managed to lay an egg inside.
So, I’m watching that unexciting nest closely, looking for any movement that might suggest hatchlings within.
Continue reading Watching and Wondering
Five years ago, Pileated Woodpeckers friended me.
Okay… strictly speaking, it’s been a one-way friendship: Me admiring some magnificent birds.
It began in April 2015. I was home every day, all day, recovering from surgery. I felt confined, not unlike today’s stay-put virus isolation. My sanity-saver was our expanse of sliding glass doors. They overlook a steep, wooded bluff that brings some trees’ crowns near eye-level, just yards away.
When I first noticed two woodpeckers pounding persistently, I assumed they were foraging. The tree they were pecking wore fungus on its trunk. There had to be insects under the bark.
A week later, I realized my error.
Continue reading An Avian Friendversary
I’m forever looking out the window.
Even when I’m immersed in a banking or children’s writing project, my peripheral vision keeps an eye on the treetops surrounding our house. I don’t catch fascinating critter behavior every day, or even every week. And of late, I seem to be in a wildlife dry spell. I suspect they’ve all been hiding from the recent scorching heat and thunderstorms.
So, I thought I might have to skip a blog post (I shoot for about every two weeks).
But this morning, I was searching for bird video related to a children’s book I’m working on, and I found an irresistible clip to share.
Continue reading Noisy Neighbors
I can write 500 words in my sleep.
Or, so I thought.
I write about business finance, and I’ve produced thousands of pages of course material, journal articles, and books. Naturally, I assumed writing a 32-page, 500-word picture book would be both fun and easy. The stories unfolding out my window practically tell themselves, like the bad-boy nestling story in this post’s video clip.
Turning these stories into children’s literature should have been a walk in the park. Or in my case, a walk in the woods.
I could not have been more mistaken.
read more and see the video