Walk on Tuesday 11th

We have a walk on Tuesday, leaving at 2.30 from the old railway station on the D42 about half-way between Berrien and Scrignac. The route explores the forest and valley of the Skirriou and is generally suitable for all, with the easiest part last, as the final stage is more than three kilometres along the former railway track and therefore level and and well-surfaced.

Look forward to seeing you all there!

Tamarack Trees and Green Up Time

The tamarack trees are budding forth on the Trail lately. What a pretty sight this is. They look as though the needles are very soft, unlike the prickly kinds found on the spruce and balsam trees. Indeed, in doing a little reading on the tamarack, someone had suggested that this quality would make it an excellent candidate for a Christmas tree. The only problem is that this particular tree is considered to be a deciduous conifer--meaning, it loses its "leaves", or needles, in the fall. The reference did make me think about the artificial trees that the Germans made out of feathers. Did they model them after the tamarack? Perhaps.

In the fall, when the tamarack is about to lose its leaves, it first turns to a spectacular gold. It's almost like the tree is going out in a blaze of glory. It is one of the later fall colors to show up, and it is always a delight to see the intensity of color against the forest's dark backdrop. I'll be sure to photograph some this fall.

This is the weekend of Gunflint Green Up, so today I am headed out to help with that. I am going to a new part of the neighborhood, one that I haven't explored much--the Iron Lake Campground. In past years, Greg and I have planted little seedlings of white and red pine up at the end of the trail, and at the Chik-Wauk museum. This year, we are not planting but rather helping to clean out some of the competing plants around the little trees. By trimming away the aspen and alder shoots, the pines will be allowed more sunshine, which they need in abundance at this stage. Pruners in hand, I'll be out there. (I'm not sure how my back will feel in the morning, but it will be worth it.)

We attended the welcome picnic last night at the big tent at Gunflint Lodge. After dinner, a local owl biologist gave a slideshow and talk on his twenty-four years of research on boreal owls. He has also collected data on the saw-whet and barred owls. It was very informative, and a little bleak, since he could identify troubles for the boreal owl. Mostly, these were related to the changing habitat up here, largely from windstorms like the blowdown, and the fires. These little owls are cavity nesters, in need of big old aspen trees. When the trees are gone, the owls leave, too. While he doesn't hear or see near as many boreal owls in this forest anymore, the good news is that they are still thriving in Alaska and parts of Canada.

We've been hearing our favorite owl a lot in recent weeks. He is a barred, and he has a distinctive call. The cadence is a bit different than the usual one. That's what makes it so easy to identify him. It's nice to know that he is still in the neighborhood.

Strange Finds in the Woods

All of the raven activity reminded me of a funny sighting last fall. We were on our way home from church one Sunday, when we saw a raven fly across the Gunflint Trail. It was carrying something green in its beak. Odd, we remarked, as it was a vivid shade of green that seemed totally out of place in the forest. As we got closer, we were able to get a better look at what it was. The bird was carrying an empty twenty-ounce soda pop bottle.

Immediately Greg spun a scenario for us, of how things would be once that raven came home to the nest with his latest treasure. Mr. Raven arrives home, and drops the bottle into the nest. Mrs. Raven says, "What are you bringing this junk home for? We can't use that in the nest!" And she tosses it overboard to the ground below. Mr. Raven feels a bit chastised and embarrassed. "I was just trying to help!" Mrs. Raven says, "Well, get on out there and find some sticks and things then!"

We laughed, but then thought about the possible day in the future when some hiker in the woods comes across a green pop bottle in the most improbable place, and wonders how the heck it got there. I had a moment like that once. We were exploring on the shore of North Lake, and I happened to look down to see a bunch of little black rubber circles. Then I started to spot snippets of what looked like purple ribbon. What a curious find amidst the natural setting, in a place that looked as though no one had been there for years. I looked up, and could see the remnants of what seemed to be a bouquet of black balloons. Had someone accidentally released a bunch of helium filled balloons? What were the odds of me finding it that day, who knows how many years later? Questions to ponder for which I will never know the answer.

The 7:05 Out Of Noank

Officially, Fishers Island belongs to the State of New York. It's shortest distance to the mainland however is with Rhode Island. It has a Connecticut zip-code, an east end of Long Island area-code, and views of Block Island. To reach the island, one must take a ferry from New London (there is a small airport too).

Most of Fishers Island is private and residential. As you may have already guessed, it is also very expensive. Much of the work that takes place here is performed by off-island residents. The girl at the pharmacy, the landscaper, and the electrician are often residents of southeastern Connecticut who commute here daily. That's where Baby Doll comes in.

Along with one other boat that I am aware of, Baby Doll departs Noank twice each morning and ferries workers to West Harbor on Fishers Island. In the afternoon, she does it all again and returns them home.

Sure beats the Cross Bronx Expressway!

Map

Pictures of the Day, May 5 & 6, 2010

Here are the Pictures of the Day from May 5 and 6.
Now, I'm going to bed!

May 5th: This is a weird bush that's growing in back of the Formerly Crappy Casita. It's sort of a mix between a strawberry and raspberry plant, but not as good as either. Still relatively tasty, though, and pretty!

May 7th: Wilberth, one of my students who happens to speak German, too, gave me a stack of German magazines. It's been great to practice again, especially considering our upcoming trip. Thanks, Wilberth!

So, thanks for reading, and have a great day!

Hotel Booking in Thailand

Every vacation beginns with the thoughts about how to reach and where to sleep. I told about How To Find Good Flight And Hotel Solutions in different posts in my new travel blog The Marvelous World Of Travel where I described my odeal because I was very worried this booking willnot be valid when we arrive or the hotel will be so bad that it will be not possible to stay there.

The hotel was excellent at the end, nobody drove us out, everything was in the best conditions. The full reports in the mentioned blog.

Now I read an other intersting opinion of a family that dreamed to pass the vacation in Thailand. To book their hotel they decided to contact the hotel directly. Because they do not understand English (and the other side was not better probably) they decided first to call the hotel but it was unpossible. Than, they wrote e-mail and received very fast answer. As a result, they had a special price (12 nights for 9), than 10% discount because the hotel decided they bargain the price. There are some countries, where persons that bargain the price are more respected, you know. Maybe it's valid for Thailand too?

At the end, when this family came in the hotel they received a room of the higher category than they paid.

This story learns -and I just understood it before-, it's necessary to try all the possible ways when you plan your vacation. To see what they offer to you. There are sites that offer very good prices -as it happend to us in Milan, sometimes you have to write to the owners -as in this last case, sometimes it's useful to speak in the hotel -it works here, in our zone, for example. I went personally to speak with the owners of the hotel for my friends and they offered me a special prise.

So, be patient when you want to book your hotel -and you will have what is good for YOU.

Pretending to be a Nature Photographer

Recently I've been gaining a new level of respect for nature photographers. The coffee table books of scenes and animals are masterpieces, and I enjoy looking at them. It takes a special person to bring the subject, the moment, and the artistry all together for a perfect shot. I'm not special.

For several days, I have been trying to photograph our neighbors, the Ravens. I'm not really sure just when they moved in to the neighborhood, but we've heard them around for several years. We don't know with certainty where their home is, but they do come visit us regularly. They hop around in our parking lot, they frequent our compost pile, and they do regular fly-bys of our kitchen. It's great entertainment. With all this activity, you'd think that I could catch a photo or two--nothing great, just good. No luck.


Maybe they are camera shy. I see them out the kitchen window, as they swoop down and land. Then they see me stand up to retrieve my camera, and they take off. Their eyesight must be incredible. I try sneaking to the window, crouched low as I make my way around the table and chairs. If so much as my face pops in to view, they're gone. The only thing so far that is working a little is to sneak my camera around the side of our big icebox, and snap from there. Evidently, they don't think that there is a person attached to the camera, if I do it that way.
I should say that these attempts generally apply to ground-level shots. If I am outside and the ravens are safely in a tree above me, they willingly sit for the picture. But photos against a bright sky don't register as well with my little point-and-shoot.

Future opportunities do look positive, however. Lately, Greg has been calling to the ravens daily, and they seem to be responding. He will go outside, cluck his tongue, and call, "Hey, Ravens!" The clucking sound is very similar to one of the sounds the ravens themselves make. They've become quite reliable in their response to him: They soon appear in a tree nearby, and wait to see if Greg has some tidbit to toss to them. If he does, they watch where the food lands, but rarely come to retrieve it when he is still there. It's been fun to watch this exchange happen. It does make me wonder, though, who is training whom?