First Flights & Discovering Twins
+ recent sightings from the Champagne Trail
Even the abundance of summer can’t make the season last as long as anyone would want it to. All the light, all the flowers and fruit, somehow do not translate to the additional hours I’d like to do everything I want to do. The math never seems to add up, and in the third week of July I find myself asking once again how it’s possible that January and July have the same amount of days.
With family visiting this month and the wonderful time I am having as a member of the amazing Maya C. Popa ‘s CWC, I’ve been remiss in posting here, and while I plan to eventually share some of the writing that has come out of my time working in the CWC community, this week we’re going into the woods to see just exactly who has been prancing around out there.
But first, allow me to introduce you to a corn cob that I recently opened. During my childhood summers, we ate a lot of corn on the cob, and I always wanted to be the designated corn shucker. Even now, I still get a thrill from peeling those fibrous, husky leaves, and getting the first look at the puffy quilt of yellow kernels inside. Earlier this month, I discovered a twin cob — the first one I’ve ever unsheathed.
Similar to that beautiful burnt umber colored egg (which I still have not eaten), I wanted to save it, but hunger and the need to feed two teenage boys living in the house required me to cook it. But not before it sat for a photo session.
First Flight
We had the very good fortune to watch the three barn swallows who hatched outside our bedroom window, take their first successful flight. After dropping from the nest down to the deck railing, they sat on the railing for several minutes, awkwardly fluttering their wings, and looking around. The adult swallows swooped in to feed them every minute or so, as if they were demonstrating how to do it: how to fly off and find a seed or juicy little worm.
I regularly curse those swallows for pooping all over the house and the deck, but when it comes time for them to fly, I am their biggest champion. After landing on the railing, two of the chicks huddled together, while the third sat alone off some distance from its siblings. It didn’t take long for the first two to take off successfully and return back to the railing. But the third was less confident, and for a while I worried it wouldn’t be able to do it. It sat there on the railing for quite a long time, fluttering its wings and jerking its tiny head to look around at the formidable space it would be required to go out into in order to survive.
The first attempt was not its best, as it went the wrong direction and hit the dining room window. Luckily it made it back to the railing and caught its little breath as I urged it to not give up. The next attempt was stronger, and the woods received one more barn swallow.
From the Trail
Meanwhile, on the trail, the fawns are getting taller, as are the buck’s antlers; the birds are still singing.
Jul 1st: An antler fashion show.
July 11th: Twin fawns.
July 15th: A lovely young doe, radaring her large and gorgeous ears, accompanied by Hutton’s Vireo, Swainson’s Thrush, and the never-out-of-tune, Song Sparrow.
In addition to her ears, I am jealous of her neck muscle flexibility.
July 16th: I can’t be entirely sure if this is Robert Redford or his offspring, Sundance, but definitely in the Redford family—look at that gorgeous red hair behind the ears. Music composed by the Western Flycatcher, Chestnut-backed chickadee, Swainson’s Thrush and the American Robin.
This was lovely
"how it’s possible that January and July have the same amount of days" -- couldn't agree more :) August already...