A week or so ago, I thought the Cooper’s Hawks might’ve flown the nest—or perhaps, thanks to the record drought, the nest might’ve failed. But yesterday I heard two youngsters and an adult in the nest area. And again today: the voices of two juvies and an adult.
Then one of them—adult male, I’m pretty sure—left the trees in a riot of calls and perched in a maple not far away. And stared.
I’m a long-time vegetarian (vegan, in fact), but I’m delighted to know the local accipiters are fit to survive. We’re fellow animals, after all—the hawks, my dog, and me. All part of Nature’s miraculous web of life.
And we’d all of us appreciate a little rain.
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 6:56 a.m. (7:56 MDT), I hiked a few hundred feet up a mountain.
Clouds covered much of the sky for much of this warm summer day. We hiked this morning, dog and I, under the blanket of an overcast. It kept us rather warm, that blanket—but not so warm that we didn’t throughly enjoy a rather uneventful time of it.
There were moments, though: a surprise visit from goldfinches, the voices of three Cooper’s Hawks (two of them youngsters, a chase of three hummingbirds. Missed some photos, got a few others. A comfort.
Back home, I had two surprises: the red-tail returning to its tall utility pole (the overcast likely made such exposure more bearable), and a Downy Woodpecker popped up on a tree trunk just off the back deck. There’s even a chance of a thundershower out there—and will be for a day so.
Gotta admit, little rain would be appreciated by all us living things.
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 6:47 a.m. (7:47 MDT), I hiked a few hundred feet up a mountain.
Science, of course, involves controlled experimentation. A lot of time, care, and repetition go into this experimentation, the result being discovery—the answers to old questions about the universe. Before the days of modern science, humans simply observed the natural world and, from that observation, used their brains to deduce what’s going on around them. Turns out there’s a term for this: natural philosophy. While on my quotidian hikes with dog, I become a natural philosopher.
This morning, for instance, I surmised that the relative quiet among wild birds has to do with this season of fledglings. To keep the young ’uns safe from the talons of hawks, perching birds tend to lurk silently around in the summer foliage. I.e., it’s a predictable, seasonal thing—and/or maybe it’s the heat of the day.
Often I pose less immediate questions like, “When did humans decide we had to keep track of the motion of the spheres? What compelled us to invent clocks and calendars?” This, because deep focus on my natural surroundings makes the time of day and season seem so obvious.
I’ve always loved Nature, but over the years I seem to have grown closer to her. Not that I’m misanthropic or antisocial, just that lately things have felt more peaceful—more sensible—up the deer trails.
Fewer birds today, no mammals. Still, as ever, a lovely hike with Jack.
Grandeur Peak Area List Beginning at 6:36 a.m. (7:39 MDT), I hiked a few hundred feet up a mountain.
