I THINK MY GUESS WAS RIGHT

I think the hawk I've been seeing is in fact a Cooper's Hawk. He was back in the near maple tree again today and I got a pic of him. If I'm reading the bird book properly, the band of white at the bottom of the tail is diagnostic.

THIS WEATHER IS FOR THE BIRDS

The variety of birds at the feeders has been very interesting so far this winter. I put out three large thistle feeders for the Goldfinches and for a time I could hardly keep them filled. One day there must have been 40 Goldfinches hanging all over the feeders at the same time.

But they must have been just passing through or else they found greener pastures, because for the last 2-3 weeks there have been hardly any Goldfinches around and the feeders have remained largely full.

One of the more interesting additions this year has been a group of Red-breasted Nuthatches. Last winter we had a few White-breasted Nuthatches, but this is the first time I've seen their red cousins. The red-breasted variety is much smaller and livelier and they hang around much longer. The white-breasted species usually comes in and grabs a sunflower seed and immediately flies back into the neighbor's pine trees to eat it. The red-breasted birds stay for extended periods of time, climbing all over the suet feeders as well as the seed feeders. They're very active and are often seen upside down much like Brown Creepers. Their behavior is very much like a combination of the Chickadee and the Brown Creeper. They're almost tame and will stay in the tree when you're filling feeders. I've been within 3 feet of them and they showed no fear.

There's a medium-sized hawk that has been making himself at home here, hanging out in the trees with feeders on them. All the songbirds make themselves scarce when he's around, of course. I think it's a Cooper's Hawk, but I'm not entirely certain. I don't mind him being around--everybody's gotta make a living--but I don't like him scaring away the other birds for long periods of time.

Here's a list of what I've seen so far this winter:

- Cardinal
- Chickadee
- Red-breasted Nuthatch
- White-breasted Nuthatch
- Cooper's Hawk
- Bluejay
- House Sparrow
- White-throated Sparrow
- Tree Sparrow
- House Finch
- Common Redpoll
- American Goldfinch
- Downy Woodpecker
- Red-bellied Woodpecker
- Slate-colored Junco
- Mourning Dove
- Starling

Gotta make sure all the feeders are full because there's a big storm coming, maybe as much as 6-12" of snow. Tough on the birds when it gets that deep.

ROYAL WALNUT MOTH

I don't know what it is about this place, but I've seen more big insects here than I've ever seen anywhere else in Ohio. First it was a luna moth in the driveway. This time it was a Royal Walnut moth on the side of the house.

As impressive as the luna was, the Royal Walnut was even more impressive. You think so?

LUNA

I've been busy doing real work lately, so I've been sitting on this one for about a month. On May 11, this showed up in the driveway:



I just today looked it up and verified that it was a luna moth. It's a big, beautiful thing--the dog thought it was especially appealing because she tried to eat it. They're one of the largest moths in North America. Unfortunately for them, their life as an adult lasts only about one week.

As they say, beauty is often so evanescent.

Oh, yeah, here's the dog that tried to eat the moth. Her name is Dea and she's a rescue Lab:

LITE PEACHES

Al likes Spam. A lot. He likes it cold, he likes it hot--he just likes Spam. Now and then he looks in his recycling bin and notices a lot of empty Spam cans in it and wonders what people would think if they saw his recycling.

Al also likes canned peaches. He says he buys the lite canned peaches but then figures if it’s light something must be missing, so he dumps a bunch of sugar in them.

Of course you have to know that Al lives by himself. His wife died a couple years ago and now it’s just him, a cat and a Jack Russell terrier that chews his hearing aids and false teeth.

A SWEET DOUBLEHEADER (NOTHING TO DO WITH BASEBALL)

It's always nice when good things happen to you. For me it's always unexpected because I tend to be a pessimist and, frankly, lots of stuff--of the bad variety--has happened to me. Not as much as some, but maybe more than most.

But today I did my duty to myself and my health and had a colonoscopy and the doctor said everything looked great, see you in ten years. Of course I automatically thought I won't be around in another ten years to see him again, but when you've had a quintuple heart bypass on your 39th birthday--following a heart attack when you were still 38--you figure now that you've made it to 54, you're really on borrowed time.

Be that as it may, when I got home and was able to eat solid food for the first time in more than 36 hours I was feeling doubly fine. Then the day got even better.

I glanced out the patio doors to check the birds as I do numerous times every day and on one feeder I saw a bird I hadn't seen in at least 20 years. There was Pheucticus ludovicianus--the red-breasted grosbeak--one of God's most beautiful creatures. It was facing away from me at first and its primrose breast couldn't be seen, but I knew from the white bars on the black wings and the white marks on the black rump what it was.

As you can see, it finally rewarded me with a full frontal view. Just wish I had a better zoom on my digital camera. But I'm not complaining. On this day I have nothing much to complain about.

STARRY, STARRY NIGHT

Friday night was an incredible night for stargazing. It's pretty rare to have a completely cloudless night here, but Friday it was perfect for scanning the heavens.

I hadn't had the SkyScout out for quite a while--last time it was the middle of winter and cold as the dickens. For some reason I thought about getting it out Friday, but I couldn't find the damn thing. I looked everywhere I thought it could be, but it wasn't there. Finally I located the damn thing in the closet in our bedroom, next to my camera gadget bag.

The sky was so dark and the stars were so bright that it was hard to know where to start. The moon was just a sliver, so it didn't throw too much light and spoil things. Pollux and Castor, the planet Saturn, Aldebaran, you name it, they were all just leaping out of the darkness. For some reason, though, Polaris always seems to be not very bright here, maybe because pole light on the barn pollutes the view to the north. I"ve noticed it's also hard to see the Ursa constellations, maybe for the same reason.

The cleanest views here are to the northwest, west, southwest and south. The southeast isn't bad, either. But there's light pollution from Oberlin to the east and northeast and the barn light to the north. From about 315˚ around to 135˚ is almost pure darkness, which is very hard to find these days unless you really live in the boonies.

I would have stayed out for an hour, but it was actually kinda chilly--about 45˚--and I had my shorts on because it had been a warm day. Should have just changed into something warmer, but there you have it. I wish I had had a telescope, but I have curbed the urge to buy one thus far. Probably just be another expensive toy that would collect dust. Or not.

THE SIMPLE GIFTS OF COUNTRY LIVING

The township snowplow just went up the road past the house, clearing away another layer of global warming. It may seem like an insignificant thing that I know the guy who drives that truck, but in today's tangled-up, anonymous world, it's really sort of comforting.

My road isn't cleared by some nameless, faceless civil service turd who has more loyalty to AFSCME than he does to the people who pay his salary. It's cleared by Jim, the township road man, and I can count on him to plow and salt pretty much whenever we need it. If things get really bad I can call him down at the township garage or, if he's out in the truck somewhere, I can get him on his cell phone.

Try that in your big city or suburb. Good luck getting somebody to answer the phone at the street department, and if you do get through, good luck getting somebody to give a shit about you and your problem.

It's different here because for the most part, this is an actual community, where everybody--mostly--knows everybody else and everybody--mostly--figures we're all in this thing together out here in the boonies. Ain't no suits from the city gonna come out and save us; we have to take care of ourselves and each other.

We have 17.3 miles of township roads in Camden Township and there's nary a pothole on any of those 17.3 miles. And Jim the township road man and the township trustees are damned proud of that. Might seem like real small change to you, but think about my pothole-free roads the next time you bust a ball joint in one of Cleveland's axle-breakers.

There goes Jim down the road, finishing his circuit over here. Snow's still coming down pretty good, so I guess I'll be seeing him a new more times before it's all said and done. Call me silly, but I take comfort in that. As the old Shaker hymn said, 'tis a gift to be simple.