thoughts-and-stories-and-stuff

Turtle, Possum, & Me !

Fri, 29 Jul 2011 14:48:53 +0100

Things show up in our yard and gardens, all kinds of things. Some of what shows up are appreciated, some are not. We generally like the various animals that come around. Frogs and toads, baby rabbits, squirrels and chipmunks, these are things that we enjoy seeing in the gardens. A few weeks ago a small turtle found it’s way to our small garden pond and made it his home.

“Oh, it’s so cute,” Marilyn said when she saw the baby turtle swimming in the goldfish pond. “I hope the little turtle likes it here, and it stays, it’s sooo cute!” She went on and on about the baby turtle, and how cute it was swimming in the pond. I just wish that she thought that I was as cute as that darned turtle. I may not have a pretty shell, and I can not swim so great, but I think I look as good as a turtle. Maybe not.

Other things that show up in the garden are not so welcome. Snakes, raccoons, moles and possums come to mind. We do not like to have them around here. But one thing I can say for sure, Marilyn does think that I am cuter than a possum. At least I think she does, I hope!

That's Me, in the Middle ! (Of the last century)

Sun, 12 Jun 2011 17:20:08 +0100

My Grandfather was the kind of man that you don't hear about anymore. He built
and repaired furniture in a building out back that he built himself, in fact he made some of his own tools. All my life, as far back as I can remember, I have loved gardening, nature, and the outdoors. Today I was looking at an old photo (see the photo above). It was a picture of my parents and me in my grandparents yard. In the photo I am just a baby. I hate to give away my age but the photo was from the very early 1950’s. That yard is where I first saw beautiful flower and vegetable gardens, all created and planted by my grandfather. He was an artist, he painted beautiful landscapes. Paintings that looked so real that you actually imagined being right there. Right in the painting, standing under the tree or next to the stream. The painting that I have by him is one of my most treasured possessions. It’s a painting of an old dirt road winding into the woods. When I look at the painting I sometimes imagine that I am walking down that road, trying not to stumble over the ruts that the wagon and auto wheels made. When he applied the paint to that canvas, maybe seventy-five years ago, could he have ever imagined that one day his grandson would proudly display the painting in his home? I doubt it. But who’s to say for sure?

I do not know, but I think what he was most proud of was being a gardener. My grandfather made beautiful gardens. As with his other talents, he was a self taught gardener. No big library of books, no fancy tools, he just knew how to be a gardener.

I remember watching him, following him, going from one flower to the next. From one garden to the next. I was just a small boy but I remember filling up watering cans and watering some of the flowers. I remember the tin cup he had in the garden to drink from. I can even remember the strange metallic taste of that tin cup when I put it to my lips. It’s funny how those memories are coming back to me now.

He died when I was very young, but I wonder if somehow he knows that I still think about those things. Who’s to say for sure?

Do any of you ever remember things like that? I hope you do.

The next time I look at the painting of his that I have, the painting of the dirt road winding into the woods, I am again going to imagine walking down that road. Only this time I am going to imagine that my grandfather and my dad are down the winding road, just around the next bend, waiting for me. Maybe they are. Who’s to say for sure?

Best wishes, Rick

Red-tail Hawk

Sat, 04 Jun 2011 09:06:35 +0100

The large Hawk flew in a straight line about thirty feet in front of us, flying no more than five feet off the ground. The bird glided over a split-rail fence, then over a slight hill, and was quickly out of our sight, heading for a clearing in the woods. “Wow, that was neat,” Marilyn said. I had to agree. With a wing span of over fifty inches, a Red-tail hawk is an impressive sight to see, and this one was quite large.

We’ve seen many interesting sights over the years on our frequent hikes through the woods and fields. Deer are a common sight, as are frogs and turtles at the ponds. Less often we see snakes, lizards, and many other inhabitants of the woods. The Pileated Woodpecker is one of our favorite sights in the woods and just a few weeks ago we observed a beautiful pair for over twenty minutes.

We hiked to a small pond where dozens of Lotus plants fill the water, I love to see the frogs sitting on the Lotus leaves floating on the surface of the pond. As we walked around the pond we heard the splash of frogs jumping into the water. Dragonflies darted back and forth in front of us. Fallen leaves, wildflower petals, a few small logs, and the ever present floating Duckweed float near the pond’s edge. We studied the pond for a while then headed toward a clearing in the woods. In the middle of that clearing is a refurbished log cabin.

“Look, on top of the log cabin, what is that?” Marilyn said. I couldn’t tell what it was, we were still a couple of hundred feet away from the cabin. As we got closer to the cabin we could tell what it was, it was the large Red-tail hawk that we had seen fly in this direction a little while earlier. The hawk took notice of us from his perch on top of the cabin, but did not seem bothered by our presence. We were watching, and photographing, the bird of prey when it suddenly flew to the ground and grabbed something in it’s talons. What the hawk had captured was a frog. I didn’t know that hawks ate frogs, and was surprised to see a bird of such size catch a little frog to eat.

The Red-tail flew back to the cabin roof and proceeded to dispatch and consume the frog. As the hawk was eating, several Blue Jays were screeching at, and diving toward, the large bird. One by one the Jays would dive toward the hawk, then pull away at the last second. Their harsh screeches filled the air. The hawk was obviously annoyed by the Jays harassment, and soon flew from the roof and into the woods. The hawk was out of sight. The Blue Jays gathered on the cabin chimney, bobbing up and down and calling loudly, quite proud of themselves that they had chased the hawk away.

It all seemed so exciting to Marilyn and I, but I guess it was just one more day in the life of a hungry hawk, some rowdy Blue Jays, and the last day in the life of one unfortunate little frog. To see photos and video of this hawk CLICK HERE

You Can't Get There From Here

Sun, 20 Feb 2011 09:01:40 +0100

“Where’re you goin’ Old Man?” That’s what the kid called me, ‘Old Man’, I didn’t like it but I let it go, he was just a dumb kid, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. He came walking up behind me on the wooded trail, he and the girl. I assumed she was his girlfriend. She had long dark hair, and it hung down in her face. In her face I could see her youth and her innocence, she had a classic face. She had the kind of face that will still be pretty in thirty, maybe even fifty years. Elvis had a classic face, Sophia Loren has a classic face. The girl on the trail with the Kid had that kind of face. The Kid was one of those people that I call a putty face. He had a face that looked like everyone but looked like no one. I’d seen him a million times, but I had never seen him before. If you witnessed him rob a bank and the cops asked you to describe him it would be hard to do. He had no distinctive features. In a group of people you would not even notice him. That’s what I call a putty face, and Putty Face wanted to know where I was headed.

I pointed on up the trail and said, “I not sure where I’m going Kid, just taking a long hike. The morning sun is in my eyes so I must be going East, I’m just heading East right now. I like to see what I can see, yes I want to see what is just ahead, maybe something I‘ve never seen before. Maybe something no one has seen before, I’m just heading East.”

The kid’s girlfriend said, “What are you going to do when you get East, what’s in the East?” Her boyfriend looked at me as if he was wondering too, wondering what was East of there.

“You can’t get East, no matter how far you travel you will never get East. I’m just heading in an Easterly direction, that’s the way I should have said it, I’m heading in an Easterly direction.” I didn’t know weather the Kid and his girlfriend knew what I was talking about or not. “No, you can’t get East, I‘m just heading in an Easterly direction.” They looked at me like I was crazy.

As they slowed their pace on the trail the Kid said, “What do you mean you can’t get East, East is in that direction, where the Sun came up over those Pine trees. Everyone knows that the Sun comes up in the East. Why did you say that you can’t get East?”

“Well Kid, if we walk one more mile together and I ask you which way is East what would you do?” He and his girlfriend looked a little confused.

“I would point to the East and tell you it was that direction, East.” he said, as his girlfriend nodded her head in agreement.

“What if we walked one hundred miles, or one thousand miles? What if we walked one million miles and then I asked you which way is East, what would you say?”

The Kid and his Sweetie looked at me kind of funny. “If we walked a million miles Eastward and then you asked me which way is East I guess I would point to the East. Are you saying that we would eventually end up where we started and still not be any farther East than we were? I never really thought of it that way,“ said the Kid.

The Girl smiled, pulled her hair out of her face and said, “Oh. I know what you are saying, I think, it’s not the destination that matters, it’s the journey there. It’s not where you end up, it’s that you enjoy getting there. Is that what you are saying Mister?”

“Yes, that’s kind of what I’m saying, part of it at least, and it has been said many times, by many people.” I smiled and pointed on up the path. The Kid and the Girl took my hint and walked ahead of me, just a few yards at first and then they picked up the pace and were soon out of sight. But before they were far ahead of me I heard the Girl say to the Kid, “I’ll guess we’ll be older someday, won’t we?”

“I hope so,” said the Kid, “I hope so.”

The Mouse on the Red Brick Wall.

Tue, 07 Dec 2010 14:32:00 +0100

The little mouse darted across the top of the three and a half foot high red brick wall which borders our back patio. I had seen the rodent the night before, and the night before that, scurrying across the top of that wall. I believe it was in July, or maybe early August, when I first encountered the small mammal. I knew I had to get rid of it before it found its way into the house.

I like to step out onto the back patio during the night in the Summer months. Sometimes you can see a lot at night, especially during a full moon. Long eerie moon shadows are cast by the trees and shrubs across the landscape when the moon is full. On the other hand, during a new moon, when the moon reflects no light, the landscape is so dark that you have to guess where the trees are. I love standing on the back patio on a Summer night, not so much for the sights, but for the sounds. I love to hear the tree frogs calling to each other. I love to look toward the upstairs bedroom window, knowing that Marilyn is asleep up there, safe and sound, dreaming her pretty dreams. I hear the katydids and I hear the toads and frogs at our small pond. I can see several of our neighbors houses, with lights in the windows going on and then going off. I wonder if the neighbors ever come outside at night, to hear the sounds, or are they busy putting their children to bed and making plans for the next day, maybe what to wear to work tomorrow, or what to do tomorrow. I never think about what to wear tomorrow, or what to do tomorrow. I just think about the tree frogs and the moon shadows and where they all came from. And why they are here, and why am I here, and where did it all come from. And on this night I was thinking about that little mouse running across the top of the red brick wall.

I know why the mouse was on the wall, I put seeds on that wall for the birds every day. The mouse was eating whatever seeds were left, and taking some seeds to a secret location, known only to him, for future consumption . I watched the mouse closely. The little critter would examine each seed, and then he would either eat it, or take it to his secret location, somewhere on the other side of the red brick wall. “I need to get rid of this mouse, before it gets into the house,” I said to myself. We have had several mice get into the basement and I did not want another one in the house, no way. I went inside to get a mousetrap. I baited the trap with peanut butter, that’s a great bait for mice - peanut butter, and set it on the red brick wall. Soon that mouse would be history.

I waited about four or five minutes and then the mouse showed up on the wall, I figured he would be caught in the trap in just a few seconds. This time the mouse was not alone, there was another mouse about two feet behind him. I could tell the mice apart because the new mouse’s back right foot was black, instead of the usual “mouse grey.” The mouse had a little friend, or was it his mate? I went inside and baited another trap, I baited it with peanut butter, mice cant resist peanut butter. Now there were two traps on the patio wall.

I watched the mice interact with each other on the red brick wall. They would seem to show each other the seeds they selected, and then either eat the seed or take it to the secret location., for future use.

As the mice got near the peanut butter baited traps they both raised their noses up slightly, sniffing the air, homing in on the peanut butter. They both started walking toward the traps, these mice that I had been watching were finally going to meet their demise. They would not ever be able to invade our basement like the other mice had done. The little critters were heading straight for the traps, I watched them, I knew I would soon be rid of them, I watched from the patio. Both mice were about three feet from the traps when I did it. I jumped toward them and yelled “Shoo, get out of here!”

I scared them away, I could not let them be caught in the traps. They were just doing what they do, looking for food. Just like I was just doing what I do. The two mice ran over the top of the wall and disappeared into the night. I saw them a few more evenings after that, and then they were gone. Maybe a cat or hawk or something got them, maybe an owl. Or maybe they found their way into the basement. We have mouse traps in the basement, baited with peanut butter, but we have never caught another mouse down there.

The next time I again stepped out onto the back patio, I heard the tree frogs calling, and I heard the katydids, and I saw the lights in the neighbors windows, neighbors getting ready for tomorrow. But I did not see any mice on the red brick wall, and I never did again. The moon shadows stretched across the gardens. I listened to the katydids, and to the tree frogs. I looked toward the upstairs bedroom window and smiled, knowing that Marilyn was asleep up there, dreaming her pretty dreams, that I hope will come true.

The Old Lady at the River

Tue, 09 Nov 2010 14:26:05 +0100

“It’s an amazing sight, that’s all I’ve got to say, a sight for sore eyes, yes sir it is. It's an amazing sight.”

“What’s an amazing sight?” I asked the old lady. I didn’t know who she was, she was just sitting there on that fallen log, holding an old bamboo cane fishing pole. I was working my way up the small river, trying out several spots, hoping to catch some small mouth bass or maybe some catfish. I didn’t notice the old lady until I was nearly upon her.

Her skin was dark, nearly black. She wore a long loose fitting dress, one of those old fashioned kind that women wore fifty years ago. The kind of dress you see in old photographs of your mother, or your grandmother. The kind of dress that makes even a young woman look old.

“This ol’ river, that’s what’s an amazing sight,” she said as she took off her well worn leather shoes and placed them beside the log she was sitting on.

I wondered how many times she had sat on that log holding that bamboo pole, she looked so comfortable and at ease there, she looked at home. “Have you caught anything yet?” I asked her.

“I love watching this ol’ river flow,” she said. “I’ve been watching it for a long time and I never get tired of watching it”

“Well Ma'am, I’m going to walk up the river a little bit farther, try my luck up there, good luck to you, I hope you catch some nice ones.” I said to the old lady.

I took a few steps when I heard her shout “I got one, it feels like a big one.” She jumped up from her seat, with both hands on the cane pole, and pulled in a catfish. “Yoweee!” she exclaimed. “I bet this fish must weigh over five pounds.”

“Yes Ma’am, I bet it does,” I assured her, even though I figured it probably weighed no more than three pounds.

She took the wiggling catfish off of the hook, held it up so we both could toke a good look at it, and then threw it back into the river.

“I’ve got a freezer full of those ol’ catfish, I don’t keep any of them anymore. I just catch them and throw them back. I come here just to watch the river flow.” She pointed up the river and then down the river as she said those words. “I love this old river,it's an amazing sight, I love the rocks, and the trees, and I even love this old log I’m sitting on.”

“I can understand that, yes I can.” I said. "I surely can."

The old lady continued talking, “I always wonder how many times this same water has flowed down this ol' river. If this river has been here a million years then I bet some of this same water has flowed down here many times. Maybe this same water has seen every bend and every stone in this river a hundred times. Maybe those ol’ catfish look up at me from the bottom of the river and wonder why I sit here so often. Yes sir, I’ve probably come down to this river a thousand times, those ol' catfish probably know me. They probably wonder where I am on the days that I don't show up, maybe this ol' river wonders too.”

I looked at her in wonder as she slipped her shoes back on, stood up and said she had better be getting back home. “I just live up there, on the other side of that hill,” she said. "I've lived in that old house a long time, a real long time."

I watched her as she headed toward the hill, she walked about ten yards then turned around and looked up and down the river again. “I always take one last look before I leave,” she told me, “because one of these days will be the last time that I ever see it, and I don’t know which time that will be, it's an amazing sight.” I did not know what to say to that. “Now you have a nice day sir, good-bye, I've enjoyed talking to you.”

As soon as she disappeared over the top of the hill I sat down on her log, and I watched the river flow. It was a good seat, quite comfortable, with a wide view of the river. I could see a long way upstream, and a long way downstream.

I didn’t want to get up, I wanted to watch the river flow. “It’s an amazing sight,” I said to myself, “that’s all I’ve got to say, an amazing sight.”

Today in the Alphabet News

Sat, 30 Oct 2010 15:18:17 +0100

TODAY IN I.T.C.O.W.A.S. NEWS - (“It‘s To Cold Outside Without A Shirt“ News) I brought the last of the house plants in for the winter. I went outside without a shirt on, it was cold. I had goose bumps on top of goose bumps. The plants were fine, not one goose bump.

TODAY IN Y.D.C NEWS- (“You Darned Cat“ News) The neighbors stupid cat was hiding under the bushes next to the birdfeeder, just waiting for an unsuspecting bird to land. I hope it taught him a lesson when the walnut I threw hit him in the a$$. Go somewhere else cat, and you can keep the walnut.

TODAY IN W.T.H.I.T. NEWS - (“What The He!! Is That?” News) As I was walking around the side yard I saw something as big around as a dinner plate and about half an inch thick. It looked like some kind of fungus. It was growing right on the ground. I don’t know what it was. Possibly from another planet? I kicked it and walked away. No aliens came out.

TODAY IN T.B.D.S.A.H. NEWS- (“The Birds Don’t Sound As Happy” News.) The birds cheerful songs no longer fill the yard. An occasional chirp-chirp here and a screech-screech there is about all I hear from them. They know a few hard months are coming.

T.A.I.G.F.N.-S.T.F.M. - That’s All I’ve Got For Now - Stay Tuned For More.

'Bargain Bin' Plant

Wed, 27 Oct 2010 15:49:27 +0100

The year was 1978. If you are young, that was a long time ago. If you are old, that was yesterday. I was at the local nursery searching for a plant to set by my balcony window. An apartment was my home then, and I wanted to spruce it up. A nice tall plant would do the trick, but there was one small problem. I didn’t have much money back then, but I wanted a tall plant by the balcony window. The other apartments had one, why shouldn’t I have one?

At the nursery I saw beautiful plants, but they were not cheap. I looked at the price tags, $20, $30, and more. And that is back when twenty dollars was a lot of money, remember the year was 1978. “I can’t afford any of these plants,” I said to myself. I started heading back to the car when something caught my eye. There was a small area which held a few neglected plants. ‘Bargain Bin’ read the sign next to the plants. The bargain bin was not a pretty sight. There were brown plants that should have been green. There were crooked plants that should have been straight. There were plants that had not been watered for ages. Those plants were all marked down, $8.00, $6.00, $5.00, some of the plants were as low as $4.00, if I remember correctly. The prices were low, but the plants looked terrible.

The tag said YUCCA CANE , “What’s a Yucca Cane?” I thought. Then I saw the price tag, $6.00 was all it cost. I picked the plant up and examined it. There were three stems sticking out of an eight inch pot. A lot of the soil was missing from the pot, I could see bare roots exposed, the soil was dry and as hard as stone. But the leaves on the three stems were green, which was more than I could say for some of the Bargain Bin plants. The Yucca cane was only 18” tall but the tag said it would grow quite tall.

“Is this all?” the lady at the cash register asked as I handed her my chosen plant. I paid the price and headed home. I was proud of my little plant, it had potential. I read the tag on the plant several more times, especially the part that said the Yucca Cain could grow quite tall.

After putting the Yucca by the balcony window I sat down in the reclining chair and admired it. I sat there and looked at it for several minutes, imagining how great it would look when it grew taller. Well, I’ll tell you this, I must have filled that little plant with positive energy because by the next summer it was twice as tall. The summer after that it was nearly five feet tall. The next summer, over six. I had repotted the plant several times.

Finally the plant hit my eight foot ceiling, I believe that was the fifth or sixth year. It took a lot of nerve but I cut the plant back to about three feet. The cuttings rooted easily and quickly. The plant seemed to thrive on the pruning. Since that first time the plant has hit the ceiling several more times, and I have cut it several more times, and rooted many more cuttings. I have given rooted cuttings away to friends, neighbors, coworkers, and family. Last week I brought the plant back inside for the season, it had been outside near the back porch all summer. Again the plant is well over six feet tall, I guess I will cut it again next year.

Yes, that little neglected, six dollar, bargain bin plant has been with me for over thirty years, and it looks better every year.   I just wish that I could say the same about myself.

    This is a picture of me and the Yucca Cane taken about 15 years ago.

Black Bear Sighting

Sat, 06 Nov 2010 11:08:22 +0100

We had a Black Bear sighted in the area a few days ago. A bear sighting here in south-west Ohio is very unusual. Only once every couple of years do we hear of a sighting. I wonder how many other creatures that “aren’t supposed to be here” may be living near us. I caught a glimpse of a large cat one evening about five years ago near the local soccer fields. I believe that it was a bobcat. Bobcats are not normally seen around here.

The timber rattlesnake is another animal that very rarely is found around here, they inhabit only a few of Ohio’s counties. When I was much younger one was killed at the community swimming pool. That rattler was the last one I ever heard of around here.

When I was a child in the 1950’s and 60’s there were no deer around here. Now I see deer nearly every time I go out. Back then a wild turkey was never seen in the wild in this area, now they are quite numerous. In recent years there have even been many Bald Eagle sightings in the area. That was once unheard of.

On the other hand there are animals that I often saw thirty or forty years ago that I never see anymore. I have not seen a pheasant in the area since I was a kid. Nor have I seen a bobwhite quail for many years. Leopard frogs used to be extremely common at any pond or creek around here. I can’t remember the last time I saw a leopard frog.

Each time Marilyn and I go out for a hike in the woods or fields we keep our eyes open for the unusual. Over the years we have come across many kinds of mammals, birds, reptiles, and amphibians on our hikes. I hope that someday we will have the chance to see one of the bears that wander through every few years. Or at least a leopard frog.

They Don't Answer.

Fri, 03 Sep 2010 15:02:52 +0100

“Hi fishies, are you hungry?” I ask the goldfish in the garden pond as I sprinkle their food onto the waters surface. We have so many critters in the garden. They are just as much a part of the garden as the plants are. Most days as I stroll the gardens I can see frogs, toads, squirrels, chipmunks, many kinds of birds, butterflies, dragonflies, and who knows what. I usually have something to say to all of them.

Yes, I talk to the animals, and I bet you do too. “Here’s some sunflower seeds,” I announce to the cardinals and chickadees, and to any other birds within earshot, as I fill the feeders. “You better be eating a lot of mosquitoes,” I say to the little frogs sitting on the waterfall in the goldfish pond.

Sometimes I don’t really say it out loud, I just think it to myself. “You’re a pretty little butterfly,” I said, or maybe I just thought it. “Do you enjoy the flowers in our garden?” I asked the butterfly. But he just flew away, fluttering here and there, until he landed on another flower. They never talk back.

“Get out of here,” I yell to the neighbors cat, who is hiding under the trellis, hoping to catch a bird. I don’t like cats. They are always after something in the garden.

I was watering the roses when I saw something hop out from underneath the bush. “Hello little toad, did I wake you up?” I see toads often when I water the plants.

As the Sun goes down the critters begin to disappear. I guess they go wherever critter go at night. But other critter appear at nighttime. And some of them I do not like.

“Get away from that goldfish pond,” I shout from the sunroom window to the darned raccoon. The raccoons and possums visit often at night. “Get out of here!” I wish the raccoons would find a friendlier yard to visit. But they are still a part of the garden.

Am I crazy for talking to the animals? I hope not. But if I am, so be it. And if one of my critters ever moves to your garden, tell him I said “hello”.