Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Ruffed Grouse: McCain and Obama


Tree1008

Ruffed Grouse

Bonasa umbellis

I found these two while driving up a friends driveway today. They were quite oblivious of anything else but themselves. One would posture and leap, the other would duck and dodge. I am not sure what sex they were-one did seem more dominant than the other.


Later, after watching the McCain-Obama debate tonight, I thought of these two birds today. :P So I have named them Obama and McCain.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Birthday

Happy Birthday to our Firebird! All the trees are celebrating with us, draped in their autumn finery.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Another Golden Day




Tree

Today we hiked on the power line trail. I remembered my camera. On the return trip, our attention was drawn to an alarm cry of the bluejays, and sharp eyed Willow called out, "A Golden Eagle!"


And there it was, emerging just above the trees that held the protesting jays. Then the eagle headed away from us down the powerline. Cam in hand, and desperate, I gave out the alarm whistle. I only recently learned that the Golden whistle is an alarm call, but they have always responded to it in the past, and today I was not disappointed.


I squinted, cam in hand, and Willow told me the eagle was headed back. I started snapping pix-fourteen fair ones in all. The Golden circled and soared- finally directly over our heads. Satisfied I had the best pix I could get, I waved farewell and we headed on. Just a few minutes later the second Golden appeared and headed away, still on the hunt.


Willow had collected some feathers on the trail-most likely from a nice wild turkey snack for the Goldens. That makes the third time in a week we have spotted them-or I should say Willow has sounded the alert each time. We also saw them the day we went to the beach, but I was driving and it was a difficult spot to stop.


Maine Golden Eagles





Tree

Saturday, October 4, 2008

questionable conservation

Yesterday I decided on the spur of the moment to include a trip to the beach with our errand- running for the day.

We started off by stopping off at a friend's house to pick up some amount of garbage that for various reasons they have been unable to take to the transfer station. As we had a very small load of our own, I offerred to take their stockpile for them.

I loaded 8 trash bags into the back of the wagon and we started off. Within minutes we were all gagging. The odor released from trash bags containing a summer's worth of dirty disposable diapers is indescribable. I suppose it didn't help that I had chucked them off a second floor deck to save the trips up and down the steps-apparently I had really shook up the contents.

Willow reminded me that I had recently purchased some car fresheners-lavendar scented trees whose scent had previously been rather overwhelming. I ripped open the packages and Willow and I each claimed one for our section of the car; the Firebird opted to roll down his window, pinch his nose, and keep his face inside his sweatshirt.

Peko huddled under some extra coats between the two of them.

We were much relieved to get those stinking trash bags out of the car when we finally reached the transfer station!!!! Then we stuck the air fresheners back into their cellophane. Although they were preferable to the trash odor, on their own they too were more than we cared to endure.

We headed down the penisula to the ocean. I opted to head for the locals spot-a small beach that we call "Baby Beach", because it is so calm and shallow. The only drawback is that at high tide, the beach disappears and the water comes up to the retaining wall of jumbled granite along the causeway. Of course it was high tide when we arrived.

From that point there is a little known back path of about 50 yards that brings you out on the far end of the larger beach. Otherwise you have to drive way around, and in the off season, park on the road outside the gate and hike in quite a distance. A very few poor or cheap folk occasionally use the back way in to avoid the small-one or two dollar gate fee during the season.

One has to be desparate to dodge the fee using that route, as the parking there is minimal at best-possibly four vehicles-and once on the larger beach you have to walk quite a distance for the restroom and snack bar.

The path, and I do mean path, as in this case it is perhaps 8 inches wide of worn trail, starts between some prickly spruce, and then down a short incline along the marsh. Then there is a bit of a wet spot where in years past someone had strategically placed chunks of ancient concrete for stepping stones. Then the path skirts right behind a building that is part of an estate, and emerges through some more spruce and sand dunes onto the beach.

No one has ever wandered off this foot path into the marsh. IN fact, the marsh used to be part of an overboard discharge for the park sewage, so there was additional reason not to wander off the path.

The inlet and outlet of the marsh to the smaller beach has mostly been blocked by the aforementioned granite and causeway-a culvert runs under the road to release the marsh overflow.

Thankfully, several years ago, the park put an actual septic in, which helped the smaller beach considerably, as it is the outlet for the marsh fluid, and used to be rather ripe at low tide. (not as bad as the trash bags with ancient dirty diapers, but nevertheless)

As far as the property the path skirts; the path is on park property, but adjacent to an estate as mentioned previously. The estate changed hands several years ago, and the folks are jerks. I don't know them personally, but there was quite a battle about the waterfrontage. There is ledge on that end of the larger beach, and at low tide it is well exposed and full of tidal pools which a dozen or so beachgoers might explore on a given summer day.

The footing is treacherous at low tide-full of barnacles and slippery rockweed-so one has to be adventerous and fit to say the least. Usually parents with children who want to check out what lives in a tidal pool. This spot became a battleground between the town and the new owners. The new owners wanted to install a ten foot chainlink fence straight down over the rock to the low tide line, to prevent the public from passing over the park rock onto their side of the rock.

The town fought it, winning by claiming the fence would be a boat navigation hazard at high tide, but a compromise was reached by allowing the estate to put twenty foot high galvanized fence rods into the rock at twenty-foot intervals with signs stating private property. They were permitted the chainlink up to the high tide line.

Now that I have filled you in on the background, I will continue with the story. Once we had parked at Baby beach, piled out of the car with our gear, and realized the state of the tide, I decided to take the back path onto the big beach. Well, we headed for the path and placed in clear view were specially made metal signs and posts stating, "marsh restoration-no access" or something along the lines.

Ok, I am a bad girl. We disregarded the signs and took the path. Now, my regular reader will now that I am rather rabid about the protectiion of wild spaces. But I have known this path for thirty years, and it has not deviated an inch in that time,or in any way caused erosion or any harm to the environment.

The cost of the signs far exceeded the loss of any income from annual gate fees-I began to suspect the estate owners had made another stink.

Once we passed the prickly spruce, hopped across the stepping stones, skirted the estate building, and rounded the corner up to the dune, there was another suprise. A twelve foot high pile of beach sand was piled at the end of the path. That's right, in the name of marsh restoration, the town had scraped the seaweed and beach sand off the beach-at least four large dumptrucks worth, and dumped it at the end of the path. Now that's beach conservation! :P

Not deterred, we clambered over.

We were the only ones on the beach. The tide was way up, and the surf was large for that area. The wind was blowing fiercely off the water. Willow immediately started looking for a place for a sandcastle-I walked off with Peko beachcombing, and the Firebird started playing tag with the surf.

Peko and I came back and joined in the game. We were nearly falling over each other as the waves surged in. As is usually the case, the ocean won the game, and Peko got his feet wet, and then all of the humans ended up rolling up wet, sandy pantlegs; having shed our shoes back at the end of the path when we hit the beach.

I had to call the Firebird back several times, as he kept inching further and further out into the surf. An experienced parent, I had foreseen well enough to bring dry pants for both of them, but after a brief thought, had passed on a dry shirt for the Firebird. So, as much as he would have like a good soaking, it would have been a long cold ride home in a wet sandy shirt. And it was too cold to take off coats and shirts at the beach.

Suddenly I saw a squall kicking up out of the So'West-a nasty-looking, fast-moving beast. I gave them a few more minutes and we dashed over the beach, back over the path for probably the last time in our lives(since we really do try and live by rules in general) and to the causeway where we had left the car.

Just as it started to sprinkle. I doled out the dry pants , and once down to their underpants, the saplings had to scamper down the granite to wash the sand off their feet in the high tide, of their own choice, showing no hint of modesty, although there was nobody in sight.

So we loaded up the dog, the soaked sandy clothes, the sand bucket filled with bits of shell and rock and driftwood the Willow had claimed for souveniers. I emptied my pockets of a few late- season rugosa buds and we headed off the penisula.







And squall it did! We drove through a downpour-the lovely colored leaves mixed in with the rain and leaves as we drove away. We all had a lovely time!

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Golden Eagle


Aquila Chrysaetos

Tree

One day I will get a clear picture of the goldens!

This was my best attempt today. I was driving up the small dirt road that leads to the farm where I buy my hay, and came across a power transmission line. I looked down the mountain and was disappointed that the foliage was not better-most likely oaks that will change in the next few weeks.


I thought about the golden eagles, and wondered if they hung out in that area. Then, a few hundred feet down the road, I saw a golden soaring at the edge of an upcoming clearing. I pulled up to the clearing and put my foot on the brake and scrambled for the cam. By the time I had it in my hand, the golden had vanished, and I thought I missed my opportunity. Then, suddenly, from ahead of me, another golden soared by headed after the first.


No time for the viewfinder; I snapped off three quick shots aiming in the direction of the retreating golden, and then it was gone. I started to check the pix, and all of a sudden, "bang! crunch! bonk!" and I jerked my head up to realize that I had taken my foot off the brake and was driving off the wrong side of the road. Well into the puckerbrush! I quickly recovered and drove out without incident, seeing all the rocks, stonewalls, ditches, stumps, and utility poles that I could have hit when I went off the road. Luck was on my side!


When I arrived at the farm, S was in the barn and I told him my story. He looked incredulous when I told him about goldens, but had a great story himself. The night before he was headed out to the barn and saw an enormous brown shape in the field quite close to the barn. He headed in that direction, and a bull moose shook his head and stood up! The moose had one antler.


Shortly afterwards he looked out the house window, and saw a retreating moose, and ran out to see if it was the same one. That one had two antlers. So either they had been fighting or the former had lost an antler stuck in a tree. S said the first one that was down was acting quite strange, so perhaps there had a been a bull moose battle right in his back yard!


I was a little edgier than usual taking Peko on his pitch-dark walk tonight. Walking down the drive I thought I could hear sticks snapping in the woods, and once we hit the road, it was so dark I couldn't even make out my Obama sign a few feet away. I could hear my feet scuffing on the dirt road, and the light jingle of Peko's dog tags. I keps straining my ears for a 900 pound moose walking down the road, and wondered if they made much noise on the dirt. Then I wondered which way I would run if one charged me. I am pretty sure I couldn't out run a bull moose. LOL. I have to stop this or I am going to manifest an encounter of the bull .... kind. ;)

Paulson and Wallstreet

Found this googling Paulson and wallstreet. The comments were pretty interesting, as well. Just to give you a better idea about the guy who requested 700 billion to bail out banks with no strings attached....
[Todd Zywicki, September 26, 2008 at 11:55am] TrackbacksHank Paulson's Wall Street Days:Looks like the boom/bubble years on Wall Street served Hank Paulson pretty nicely:
Executive compensation: As Goldman's chief, Paulson received an $18.7 million cash bonus for the first half of 2006, and in 2005 he was the highest paid chief executive officer on Wall Street, reaping $38.3 million in salary, stock and options. He also accumulated 3.23 million shares of Goldman's common stock worth $492 million, plus restricted shares worth $75.2 million and options to purchase 680,474 shares, according to a Goldman regulatory filing on July 2, 2006.
He sold the shares in 2006 when he took the Treasury job:
Paulson sold his 3.23 million shares in Goldman, worth about $500 million at the time, when he took the Treasury job, according to regulatory filings. He was exempted from paying capital gains tax on the sale of those stakes under a rule meant to avoid penalizing wealthy people who take government jobs and are forced to sell assets....
http://volokh.com/posts/1222444533.shtml

Injustice

My regular reader might recognize that certain things really get me going. Dishonesty and injustice are a couple of the top two.

A few days ago I discovered something which at the time did not irk me too badly, but apparently my subconcious felt differently. I awoke in the wee hours just churning, trying to get back to sleep, and figured if I wrote it I might be better able to release it.

A few weeks ago my oldest worked 2 1/2 hours at the farm stacking wood. About the same time I told a persistant Boss that I would not be returning to do fencework for various reasons. Well, a few days ago I saw the check she had mailed to my oldest for his woodstacking, and she paid him more money per hour than she was paying me for designing and installing fencesystems and carpentry work.

Now, there was no confusion as to the amount of time he worked, as I told her on the telephone myself. It just really burns me, and I am soo glad I am not committed to a job at the farm right now, or we would be having words. No wonder she was so keen to have me back. Just another stone in my face this week. :(

I do want to thank everyone for their nice comments on my foliage shots-those have been a saving grace for my ego this week, I'll tell you. :-X

On to the big wide world. Melamine. Melamine is an ingredient in plastic which is not approved for food use. In fact, it causes Kidney failure . A few months ago there was a massive pet food recall where companies had purchased feed ingredients from China which were found to contain melamine. Melamine when added to food gives a false protein reading.

I suppose you could add melamine to paper dust and it would appear to be full of protein.

Recently China has had problems with infant formula. Apparently dairy farmers were watering down their milk and adding melamine to cover the fact it was watered-down. Lots of babies have gotten sick. As US consumers we were assured that there were no legal imports of baby formula from China on the market in this country.

Then, a few days ago, there was some news that Cadbury chocolates had shown evidence of melamine. And M & M's, and snickers, and oreos-again, none in this country.

Alarmed that mass-produced food product could easily fall victim to cheap ingredient imports, I vowed to make snacks from scratch. I made a batch of peanut butter cookies tonight. Then when I awoke a little while ago, my kidneys were feeling cranky, and I started feeling a bit paranoid. How safe is that store brand flour and butter? I always assume stuff like that is produced here in this country and governed by safety regulations, but now I am not so sure.

How do I know that large corporation is not getting flour from China and re-packaging it here in the US? Or the peanut butter-even though that was a name brand. Very frustrating.

The last rant is just a hope that the House again refuses the 700 billion bailout bill for wallstreet. I think the news has been very biased in putting pressure on the public to accept this bailout package. I would have liked to have seen surveys out there which included more than two or three people. How about, "do you think congress should pass a 700 billion dollar bailout bill which would buy bad debt from banks?"

I suppose even that survey would not be accurate, as lobbyists would pay folks to sit down and repeatedly type "YES!"

I guess the fact that bothers me the most is that, Paulson, who crafted this fine plan, pretty much came straight into government from Wall Street two years ago. Conflict of interest? Certainly not!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Isabella Moth Autumn


Tree

In The Beginning

In the beginning was the three-pointed star,
One smile of light across the empty face,
One bough of bone across the rooting air,
The substance forked that marrowed the first sun,
And, burning ciphers on the round of space,
Heaven and hell mixed as they spun.

In the beginning was the pale signature,
Three-syllabled and starry as the smile,
And after came the imprints on the water,
Stamp of the minted face upon the moon;
The blood that touched the crosstree and the grail
Touched the first cloud and left a sign.

In the beginning was the mounting fire
That set alight the weathers from a spark,
A three-eyed, red-eyed spark, blunt as a flower,
Life rose and spouted from the rolling seas,
Burst in the roots, pumped from the earth and rock
The secret oils that drive the grass.

In the beginning was the word, the word
That from the solid bases of the light
Abstracted all the letters of the void;
And from the cloudy bases of the breath
The word flowed up, translating to the heart
First characters of birth and death.

In the beginning was the secret brain.
The brain was celled and soldered in the thought
Before the pitch was forking to a sun;
Before the veins were shaking in their sieve,
Blood shot and scattered to the winds of light
The ribbed original of love.

Dylan Thomas