One Hazy Morning On Stewarts Landing

There was a time when sleep was less of a challenge.  However, rising shortly after the sun does provide opportunities.  Sipping coffee and idly looking out the window is one, particularly when that window provides a view over the water to the forest beyond.

What's that white spec in the trees?

Looks like an eagle.

Yes, definitely an eagle.
Of course, he is not following the modelling agreement,
and has landed too far away on a hazy low-light morning.
On the positive side, this provides excellent rationalization
for expensive new camera equipment.

"You lookin' at me?"

"I really don't care."
He sat for 40 minutes,
waiting for the easily distracted photographer
to lose interest.

Fortunately, there was enough coffee
to merit waiting until he finally prepared for action!
(This shot taken just after the impressive weight reduction technique
all birds use prior to take-off.)

Now away, down low over the water.

A quick splash and upward again.

It appears a fish has taken advantage of the eagle's
"Swim near surface, fly high" offer.

But the fish won't be taking advantage
of that offer again.

Don't Mow the Flowers !!!

When a lawn borders water, it is verboten to nurture it with a vast array of chemicals.  Actually, it is never a good idea to bathe one's lawn in biocides, but due to the ongoing plot against the middle class, most feel compelled to do so.

However, if the fate of suicidal, wimpy, and non-native grasses is cast to the seeds in the wind, and the scheduled toil of mowing is ignored, an amazing thing occurs.

White Clover flowers appear!

And not only the flowers, but the bees that accompany them.
I'm told by those who can hear
that emerging from the house into the field of clover
is akin to walking into a beehive.
(No worries, the bees are too busy to bother you.)

Everyone benefits when noxious chemicals are not applied to artificial looking lawns, and precious time is not used to clip one's grasses to less than the length of a finger.  

The fish, the turtles, the waterbirds and a host of others thank us.

The wildflowers also thank us.

When I asked if the daisies appreciated not being mowed,
they gave me their answer true.

The Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) says that not using phosphorus or nitrogen-containing fertilizer minimizes Harmful Algae Blooms (HABs).  One step better is no fertilizer at all!  Thankfully, no DAPs (Depressingly Accurate Photos) of HABs will be presented here.

But there will be photos of lawn residents allowed to bloom!
For example, this Meadow Hawkweed,
a European immigrant, now naturalized.

Some are individualistic.

Clover also comes in purple.
Of course it was named "red clover" by the same colorblind naturalist
who named the purple finch.

Even up close, not seeing much red.
I suppose it's good not to see red.

These are nice little violet-colored flowers.
I wonder what they're named.

This bug would not tell.

Well if it isn't a Philly Fleabane!

The petals start out magenta-ish
and then turn white.
Very pretty!

Here's a Devil's Paintbrush.
Why would anyone give such a beauty such an awful name?
Why not a Kodak Paintbrush?
Oh, maybe that's the connection.

Fuzzy all the way.

A favorite, no matter what the name.

 And leaving the mower in the garage not only allows the flowers to flourish.  Many types of pollinators also benefit. 

A lovely White Admiral.

Here neatly balanced on a yet-to-bloom hydrangea.

Another bee at work.

The bee seems busy.

What pollinator is interested in this Wood Anemone?

Maybe this Red Admiral,
also named by the color-blind naturalist.

Happy to move a your pollen for a little nip of nectar.

The rear of his or her wings appear shredded,
certainly not by the mower.
Perhaps an encounter with some bird who swallowed the tail?

This Tiger Swallowtail carries on regardless,
testing some domesticated nectar.

Back to the wildflowers!

Aphrodite is happy with the Black-eyed Susan.

Delicately testing the eye.

How sad that such a beautiful flower
was named for the result of an abusive relationship.

Blue-tailed Damselflies (different naturalist) also make their appearance,
but not as pollinators.
They're looking for other nice juicy bugs.

And the bees just keep buzzing along.

Goose, Gander, Goslings

For quite some time, 
the goose was on the loose 
in the bay across the way.

The situation called for investigation.

"Well, what's going on here?"

As the kayak-borne investigator moved in for a gander,
the gander charged, squawking threateningly.
A few paddle-generated splashes slowed his approach.

Circling the kayak, he let his displeasure be known with a tongue-out stare,
the goose equivalent of certain human hand gestures.

After careful consideration, the gander realized
that the buffoon in the kayak was not much of a threat,
and adopted a policy of peaceful coexistence.

Photos of the nest were tolerated.

Look closely to see mama looking back.

Soon the photo session was over,
and the gander went back to sentry duty.

That night, a great cacophony rose up from the bay.  Unseen, there was a crescendo of goose and gander yowling and caterwauling until sudden silence.

The next day, there were no geese to be found.
The nest was empty.

It appeared that someone had enjoyed a raw omelette.

It could well have been this guy,
captured on a neighbor's security camera*.

Though he enjoyed the porch,
he didn't knock.

Although one family did not flourish, there are others.  There will be no shortage of new geese to grease our lawns.  

What do you call a group of resting goslings?

A fuzzy pile.

"Really, Mom?  We have to get up and go?"

And off they went.

On another fine family outing.

*Thanks to Roger A. for providing barely acceptable images.