View from the window...cardinal facts

Cardinal - car·di·nal /ˈkärd(ə)nl

noun -  1. a high ecclesiastical official    2. a number  3. a songbird

adjective - of greatest importance; fundamental

    I imagine that in any language other than English, each of these meanings would have a separate word. We however like to imbue each word with multiple meanings that I'm sure confound and frustrate those trying to master English for the first time. However, in this context, as I see do not regularly see church officials out the front window, am not counting things, and have no profound statements of importance to make, we shall content ourselves with the joy of the colour red, which we do see regularly.

On these days in January when it is so often gloomy and dark, the vivid red of the Northern Cardinal brings a literal bright spot to the day. We have had a pair visiting regularly. They approach quietly, sitting near one another in the safety of the cedar hedge until they feel that it is safe to approach. 

With some birds, like Blue jays, the male and female are coloured alike. It is not hard to tell the male from the female with these cardinals.

The female is all soft earthy tones with accents of vivid colour in the tip of her crest, the edges of her wings and most pronounced, her beak. She is generally shy, hanging back in the ground near the shrubs. She will venture out for a seed or to forage but quickly returns to safety.

The male is all flash and brilliance, instantly recognizable and gladly welcomed, his presence bringing a lifting of the spirits. The pigments for his red feathers have to be ingested, so if he is a bold and brilliant red, he is eating well. (So what came first, the Cardinal wearing red, or the red cardinal. Probably the cardinal, but it may not have been called a cardinal at the time. See? Confusing!)

Cardinal are primarily seed eaters and their beaks are curved and strong to break open even large seeds. 

It is obvious that these birds are a pair. Cardinals are predominantly monogamous and often retain their mates for life. He stays near and is always aware of where she is. He talks to her in single 'chips' as full songs seem to have more purpose in mating time.

It is such a joy to have this colourful presence in the yard each day. Many people attach meaning to the cardinal as a totem or spirit animal. Some believe their presence is a visitation of a loved one after death. Whether you ascribe to those particular beliefs or not, the presence of a cardinal should bring a moment of joy.

And when the male cardinal leaves the lower shrubbery,

and ascends to the treetops

we will know that spring is very close.

NB: The Cardinal is the State Bird for 7 States. The common Loon is the Provincial Bird for Ontario. I shall name the Cardinal as my personal Yard Bird.

View from the window...who goes there..and there..and there!

 

As the seasons change, so do the visitors to the garden out front. Many stay year-round, a few just change from summer to winter 'clothes', but some only visit at certain times. Those visitors are on a path north in the spring and then on a journey south in the fall. To me, White-crowned sparrows, house finches, and Dark-eyed Juncos are birds that help define the seasons.

Until this year...

We have been visited by a host of juncos, dressed in their formal slate-coloured tuxedos, with brilliant white shirt fronts, and accompanied by their ladies in lovelt gowns of subdued browns and greys.

 Their beaks are a soft pink and when they fly their tail feathers fan out and are edged by white feathers, both of which are identifying features. They are ground feeders like mourning doves, and will run on the ground only flying to regain shelter. Comical to watch.

Being that survival of any species is based on meeting the needs of food, shelter and safety, our yard must be fulfilling some of those needs. The human hierarchy of needs includes friendship, esteem and self-actualization. Many birds that winter here, like chickadees, do so in larger groups but that probably has more to do with safety and warmth than friendship. I think most birds and animals are born self-actualized; they seem to know how and where they fit in, and what is necessary for their survival. Humans seem to have to figure all that out in spite of being of a 'higher order'.

They do not announce their arrival like the blue jays or sparrows with noise and fanfare, but arrive in a loosely formed group that spreads itself under and in the spruce tree and on the lower branches of the shrubs next to the house. They come and go as a group but seem to have a built-in sense of individual space, staying near to one another, but not close. When feeding they seem to give way to one another though it is not obvious where that is due to size, sex, age or aggression. Maybe being polite or taking turns is built into them while we must be taught it.

I don't know how long they will visit here, perhaps as long as I throw out seeds and have messy squirrels dropping bits of corn. It will also be interesting to see if any seeds get missed and result in sunflowers in odd places in the garden; little gifts left as souvenirs of a lovely visit.

 

View from the window...squirrels

 

In these dark winter days, at this 'stay at home' time, it is easy for the spirits to flag. In those hours I am grateful for my front window. through it I see a glimpse of my neighborhood, the tall, graceful maples across the street, their architecture evident in the absence of the cover of leaves. I see the apartment building across the park and wonder if they see me. A large portion of my view though, is the towering blue spruce that some kind soul planted there in the 1960's when this was a new house on the edge of town.

The spruce is a landmark for the house, provides us shade and privacy, but most importantly, is a haven to the local birds and wildlife. 

Nearer to the driveway, feeders hang on a tall pole with shelled peanuts, sunflower seeds, niger seeds and whole peanuts the buffet on hand. These draw lots of activity year round. Lately I have been throwing sunflower seeds on the front porch and in the snow in front of the window as well so there is a lot of activity to watch from my perch on the couch.

The first to arrive is always a squirrel; they are particularly attained to the presence of food. The sound of peanuts hitting the driveway, even if muffled by snow, draws them in like pins to a magnet. In order to keep the squirrels busy we have set out cobs of corn, in special holders, for them. The corn keeps them, at least for a short time, away from the seeds on the ground. 

The antics and acrobatics necessary to get every last kernel from those cobs have given us hours of entertainment in the watching.

And when the cobs are finished 

someone will stop by and enquire if there is more

then sit and wait.

that's just grief...

sneakin' up on you, to paraphrase a Bonnie Raitt song title. Kind of like a ninja whose identity is hidden and appears out of nowhere to attack. There are many times that we can anticipate the presence of grief; for example, my brother Alan's birthday is in several days. I do, and expected to, mourn his absence this year to celebrate it. These moments we anticipate and expect to again feel loss and grief. 

It is the 'heart-attacks' that catch us unawares; those instants of sudden, emotional, re-realization that we cannot see or talk to our special people, that send us for a spiral. The older I get, the more 'loaded' some moments become..my great-niece is having her first baby..so wonderful..Alan will never meet his first great-grandchild..so heartbreaking. Everything seems to have that wrenching flip-side.

Recently my youngest began a new job; a great job and he is so happy. This means that our wee man must take that first step out of the nest and into daycare. Normal in these days when both parents need to be employed in order to survive right?! I immediately felt like I should take care of him instead of anyone else. This was not realistic but I felt so guilty. My children did not have this expectation and when I cried all over my daughter-in-law and apologized that in reality I could not take this on, she, sweet girl, had to ask my son why his mother was weeping on her shoulder. 

I am still teary as I write this, but now, several weeks after baby has settled beautifully into a wonderful daycare, I realized that the underlying emotional was really grief. I realized that this beloved little blond head on my shoulder was so much like the blond head of his father 30 some years ago. My boy is a man, and now our baby was on his way, growing up, not a baby any more. Grief, or perhaps mourning..time passing, changes.

So I exchanged guilt for grief and allowed the tears to flow for a bit, and they cleansed instead of hurt so intensely. Then I bought a car-seat so I could be available if needed, and maybe I will become a visiting Grandma at the daycare at some point. It is not easier, the facts remain the same, but at least I know it for what it is, grief that will sneak up on me when I expect it, and when I don't. 

We bump into the fact of mortality unexpectedly sometimes; those birthdays with an '0' or illness or an accident. Those things that remind us that we are not, nor are those we love, infallible or permanent. We don't like those reminders because they are frightening and unwelcome. For those who are of an optimistic nature or are more pragmatic, this is the stuff of life. For those of us who are pessimistic, this is also the stuff of life, but with no up side.

This is my challenge; to find balance in life and work to savor each moment when I can. It is difficult to avoid the those ninja 'heart attacks' of life, but I am learning that there is nothing wrong with acknowledging those moments of grief. And the more able that I become to recognize it for what it is, the more those moments can become moments of remembrance and celebration of people we love.

 

Magic in May

There are moments of pure magic that only happen in Spring; those few days when the combination of rain and sun clothe the stark architecture of winter in the glorious colours and shapes of Spring in a time-lapse moment.

There are wildflowers whose presence in the Spring is so momentary that they are referred to as 'ephemerals'. My favorite of these transitory spring surprises is the Eastern Spring Beauty, or Claytonia virginica. (Named after an American physician named John Clayton who collected several plants in Virginia) It is a delicate and tiny plant with nodding buds and pink-striped petals, whose discovery is for me a true serendipity because I have only seen it a handful of times.

Last night however, I pulled over the car to look closer at a patch of small flowers on a hillside and eureka!, not just Spring Beauty, but a whole patch of them! My husband, the unwitting passenger on this particular expedition, did wonder why he suddenly found himself travelling in reverse and his wife abandoning ship in the middle of this particular back road. 

Spring ephemeral wildflowers are triggered to grow before the trees fully leaf, and their flowering parts disappear quickly, so if you miss those brief moments, only the life in the roots remains of their presence. This was a truly remarkable and memorable sighting.

Bloodroot is considered by many to fit into the category of 'spring ephemeral', and while many are still blossoming, the earliest blooms have now dropped, their leaves are many times larger, and fruit is now appearing.

Another candidate is the Large-flowered Bellwort, sometimes called Merrybells. It can be as tall as 75cm (abt 30 in.) but most of the ones that I have seen are about half that. They look wilted and the bells always hang down.  

Some lists include trout lilies; the white ones are already dropping their blooms and the yellow ones are just blooming now...

Or bluebells which will likely blossom this week..

Or the trillium which will be at its best on dappled hillsides in the next week. No matter the criteria used to define these early spring plants, the common thread remains the brevity of their time in bloom, making them I think, unique and precious.

Then comes the day when you realize that the songbirds have returned! The canopy is busy with brightly coloured birds and the air is filled with new melodies. This time before the trees are fully covered with leaves, gives a short period when the the sun showcases the beautiful colours of the new arrivals. I heard the warble of this male Rose-breasted Grosbeak first, then had to search a ways up to find him.

The male Baltimore Oriole is so splendid. His mate is much more muted in colour and very shy. They will soon weave an amazing hanging nest from an upper branch and start a family. Most times these nests will not be visible until the leaves drop again. Orioles fly up from Central America to breed here, as do the Rose-breasted Grosbeaks; quite a journey.

The Gray Catbird arrives at the same time, having journeyed from the coastal areas of Central and North America. They are sleek in their sedate grey feathers with a black cap, but I love that they have this little rusty red patch under their tail that is just a little cheeky. They do sound just like a cat meowing but they also are able to mimic other bird songs and create a more than a little confusion for the listener.    

I also spotted my first Eastern Phoebe this week...at least I think so. The Phoebe is part of the flycatcher family and they are all quite similar, so I was never sure if I had seen a Phoebe or a Wood Pewee or a species of other flycatcher. I have been know to refer to them as 'UBB's' - ubiquitous brown birds.  

Many of the birds migrating north to breeding grounds are Warblers. They are often only in Southern Ontario for a few days and then continue north again. My first bird guide had a separate section for warblers labelled 'Confusing Spring Warblers' as well as 'Confusing Fall Warblers' which is not an auspicious start to bird identification. Turns out that it is difficult to tell if some birds are even warblers in the first place because of their similarities to other groups like vireos. As well, their spring colouring differs from their fall colouring and males differ from females as well as each other depending on their age. I will therefore say that I believe that the bird above is an adult male Yellow-rumped Myrtle Warbler in his spring plumage..and hope for the best. 

I will also take a bold leap and say that this is an adult male Palm Warbler, and further, a Spring "Western" Palm Warbler. Whew! It would be really easy to mistake one of these for a sparrow or a finch especially in its more muted fall plumage. This was a brand new sighting for me.

This is my favorite warbler, perhaps because it is readily identifiable and it can be seen in this area all summer. It is an adult Spring Yellow Warbler, a petite bit of 'feathered sunshine', once called the Summer Yellow Bird. I read that Cowbirds, who do not incubate their own eggs, are more likely to leave an egg in the nest of a Yellow Warbler. Odd, given the disparity in size between the Cowbird and the tiny Yellow Warbler and thus likely their eggs.  

In the world of green things, seemingly bare ground continues to produce magical things like this sweet Yellow Violet in the forest...

and my favorite Freckle Face Violet in our front garden. 

Green umbrellas are opening their shoots in the forest and on hillsides...

Horsetails are sprouting,

Scouring Rush spreading their branches,

 

and ferns unfurling. 

Fuzzy branches of Staghorn Sumac are showing buds,

the magical Tamarack tree, the only conifer to lose its needles in the fall, is now producing fresh new ones, 

and stands of Japanese Knotweed are pushing up bamboo-like stalks topped by leaf sets that look like arrow heads.

Flowering shrubs are opening their blooms,

like magnolias..

including this gorgeous Saucer Magnolia. 

Bergenias are blooming in what looks like a more delicate rhubarb patch,

and I saw these Lenten Rose, a less commonly seen Hellebore, blooming in a small garden in Glen Morris.

So what is it about these moments in May that is magical? I don't need a reminder of the transience of life, because each day brings evidence that life, peace, health and security can be fleeting. Maybe for me, these moments of beauty, sound and discovery are more like an energy shot; a boost of joy and hope for the soul, a vitamin supplement for the spirit.

The beautiful spring came; and when Nature resumes her loveliness, the human soul is apt to revive also.

Harriet Ann Jacobs