APRIL WILD FLOWERS

Marsh Marigold

Instead of rambling, I've decided to post photos of the wildflowers near my home that I captured with camera today.  Marsh Marigold or Cow Slips, as my family calls them, bring back fond memories of the marshy area near Grandpa Adam's cabin where I grew up.  One of the earliest recollections of my childhood was of springtime and Aunt Susan carrying me to the marsh when she came to visit so she could see the cowslips blooming.  The marsh was a sea of yellow...  I can still see it in my mind.

Violet

Hepatica

Spring Beauty

Wood Anemone

Adder's Tongue or Trout-Lily

I have to admit the yellow trout-lily is one of my favorite wild flowers at home.  Today was the first day I saw it in bloom at the edge of the woods.  I don't recall ever seeing this wild flower where I grew up just a mile or so south of here.  I find it interesting how wild flowers can appear year after year in one place and never in another that is not far away.

The white trillium is not quite blooming yet.  We only have a few of these flowers left.  Years ago they were thick at the wood's edge but I believe the whitetail deer have eaten most of them off through the years.  When I was young, people said it was against the law to pick trilliums.  Maybe through the years they have come and gone, depending on the deer population.  I'm not really sure.

I hope you have a chance to get outside and enjoy the wild flowers near where you live. They come and go quickly.  Spring is a special season.  Heck, in Wisconsin, all seasons are special!

Just before I took this picture sitting in my "click, click, click, until you get it adjusted the way you want it" old lounge chair... a chickadee woke me up from a nap when it landed on my left boot.  I fumbled with the camera, trying to grab it from my pocket, but I was a little too late.

SITTING GOOSE

Have you ever heard the phrase, "sitting duck"?  It refers to someone who is vulnerable because a sitting duck is an easier target than a duck in flight.  After last night, I'd say a "sitting goose" is more vulnerable as well.

We've had a pair of Canadian geese nesting on our pond for a couple of weeks now.  They have nested each spring for several years, in about the same spot, on the inner dike.

When my hubby went for an early morning walk today, he thought something was amiss when he noticed a large amount of feathers near the goose nest at the pond's edge.  Taking a closer look, he found all seven eggs, unbroken, still lying in the nest, but no mother goose anywhere nearby.  Many small feathers were scattered on the ground with a few more strung out along the dike.

 
We have noticed a large mink frequenting the dike in the past several days.  It looks like he got what he was after.  My hubby thinks the mink may have tucked the goose carcass in a muskrat den along the water's edge, for safe keeping, as we could not find it and there were few large feathers.

As I sit on the bistro bench writing in my journal this morning, I hear the gander quietly honking across the pond near the nesting area.  He appears to have no interest in sitting on the now abandoned eggs himself.  He drifts back and forth across the pond letting the wind choose his destination.

I don't know how long the gander will remain here, on guard, watching and waiting for his mate to reappear.  I 'm not certain how long it will take him to accept what has happened.  I will curiously watch and see how nature handles this process, but I'm sure our lone male goose will be back next spring with a new little mate.  As Aunt Lydia C. says, "Life is for the living."

Mr. Mink will grow bigger and fatter now and perhaps he will contemplate how to pull off something even more grandiose!   That's just nature, that's the way it is.

VISITING THE WOLF TREE

It's been a while since I wrote a post, excuse my slacking.  I've had a busy couple of weeks spending a lot of time coughing with a few days wasted in the hospital.  I've had plenty of needles poking me and enough malfunctioning IV pumps beeping at me to last for a long time.

It feels great to be out in the fresh air journaling on our forty by the wolf tree, as my hubby dubs it.  Unfortunately it sits in the middle of deer tick haven, but I've got my trusty little bottle refilled with sweet smelling wintergreen rubbing alcohol ready to give ticks a bath, like the one I just found on my jeans.  It's against the law to "flick a tick" at our place, all ticks go into a bottle like this that we carry with us in a pocket whenever we're outdoors. 

Our wolf tree is a big old maple.  It has the prettiest red leaves in autumn that stand out among the other trees across the pond, sometimes reflecting itself beautifully in the water.  This tree is full of branches that spread out and shade everything around it.  The branches make it less desirable for lumber, but that's o.k. with me.

A little sunshine now and then and patches of blue sky are perking me up, but the west wind feels cold with a temperature of about 40 degrees.  A lone mallard duck quacks overhead as it flies above me toward Tom's Creek.

I spotted a pair of geese swimming in the high water of the creek, rising again from yesterday's heavy rainfall, as I made my way to the wolf tree.

A bone from an old deer carcass dangles from a small white pine tree along the trail near me, a plaything for a squirrel most likely.

I'm surrounded here at the base of the wolf tree by many red pine trees that my husband planted about 20 years ago.  Most have a diameter at the base of 4 to 6 inches, some still sporting a ring of fencing around them to keep the bucks from polishing their antlers and killing the trees.  Most of these red pines are 20 to 30 feet tall now and it won't be long until they can start whispering.  That makes me happy. 

Just being outside makes my day because I know I am where I'm supposed to be again!