BTW,
ALL birds have WISHBONES so Mr. Heron has been caught in a lie...
but then again can we really blame him for trying to save his NECK?
I have been thinking about dead animals lately mostly due to my personal experience of running over a beautiful 5 ft. black snake sunning himself on the road the other day. I thought he was a patched crack in the road and at the last second realized that I was running over a snake with my mammoth vehicle. Oucccccccchhhhhh! Oh the misery of meeting your end while blissfully sunning yourself. I thought about stopping, but then what? Rush him to the vet? Is there a place to take these poor suffering snakes? I thought about perhaps just moving him off the road but was afraid that he would bite me if still alive. I screamed and cried all the way to my Core Class which is where I was headed in the first place. I hoped there was a chance that I had missed his vital organs and that after some rest he would be fine. But I am sure animals don't recover from these things and he probably slinked off into the grass to die. Wow, nature can be so cruel!
The next time I went to Core Class I drove very observantly and with my music a bit less blaring. Being AWARE I decided would be the best way I could make it up to that poor snake. Then as I was driving home after class wouldn't you know it but there walking lazily down the middle of the road was a big old snapping turtle. She was huge and dirty and really had no clue of the impending danger she was in. Here was my chance to make up for hitting Mr. Snakey, but how? I had no idea about the dexterity of snapping turtles and whether they were capable of whipping around and snapping you. So at that point I was not sure if my desire to help her was greater then my fear of her. There was also the chance that I would end up as "Road Kill" myself if I didn't do something quick being that it was late and we were on a very curvy country road. I tried to nudge her with my foot, but she would not budge. I yelled at her to move but she just looked at me. I lifted her tail end with my foot which made her really mad and her head began to jut in and out of her shell furiously, each jut ending with a snapping sound. After hearing those SNAPS I determined that I would try to move her without picking her up. I returned to my truck to retrieve something, anything that I could move her with. At this point I really did not want to touch her. I could just picture myself in Emergency holding my detached finger with all the hospital staff berating me that everyone knows you don't pick-up a snapping turtle, especially one big enough to bite your finger off. So as I returned to my vehicle I suppose I was hoping to find a "Snapping Turtle Removal Kit" in the trunk. I did find a cardboard box there but determined I would have to lift her into it which defeated the no touch option. I searched the back and front seats and all I found was my daughters sweater. Alas that would have to do. As I returned to Mrs. Snapper I could not believe what I was about to do. Somehow I thought screaming may help so I began screaming at the top of my lungs as I picked her up with my daughter's sweater wrapped around my hands. Now what? I was in the middle of the road sceaming and holding a big old snapping turtle with her head jutting in and out violently snapping at me and I could not decide which side to put her on? The lake was on one side but I believe she was heading away from the lake to lay her eggs so I put here down there in the brush. I drove away hoping I hadn't done more harm then good. It truely is amazing how all these wild creatures survive and thrive year after year despite us humans. Nature can be cruel but it can also be quite amazing.
BTW, I never did tell my daughter that I used her sweater to lift a big, old stinky snapping turtle...and I probably never will.
A Canola Field in La Fontaine, Ontario
Children of the Canola
I had a fun time visiting with my in-laws Ron and Fran last week at their cottage on Georgian Bay. When I arrived one of the first things I noticed was that Ron had rigged up a make shift scarecrow to keep a few big black birds away from his bird feeder. Determined to keep the bird feeder safe and enjoyable for the pretty local finches Ron had also sprayed the metal post holding the feeder with WD40 as a couple of squirrels had been scurrying up the pole and devouring all the seeds. Ron talked with delight about how the squirrel's attempts to climb the newly greased pole usually ended in a comical thud. I watched as a big black squirrel attempted to raid the feeder only to be humiliated in front of the chipmunks below as he crashed to the ground. Mr. Squirrel then took out his defeat on the chipmunks by chasing them away from where they had been feasting on all of the dropped seeds.
Mr. Heron posed for some pictures today. He seems less shy over by the waterfalls where there is much more activity IE. car traffic, kids playing in the park, dogs and cats running around and me sitting quietly on the hill with my camera. BTW, just for the record I rarely bring my camera with me while out meandering. I would say I bring my camera approx. 2 times out of 10. Like the other day, I was out for an easy run after a long day at the computer screen. Always having in mind that The Heron's may be around I looked for them in their usual spots and wouldn't you know it but Mr. Heron walked right up the hill out of the pond. His legs were so thin and knobby and he appeared awkward as he strutted across the trail and down to the lakes edge. Of course the first thing I thought to myself was "Darn, I wish I had my camera with me". However if I did have my camera I would have seen the surreal sight of a heron walking down "The Meandering Trail" through an LCD display. I would have been fumbling with buttons and zoom lenses and missing out on enjoying the moment just so I could have photographic evidence that the unbelievable story about a heron meandering down the trail is true. So I am glad that I did not have my camera that day. Instead what I do have is a lasting memory that may have been lost if I did and I am sure you all believe me without the photo evidence anyways, don't you?
A few years ago I bought the Peterson Field Guide Birds of Eastern and Central North America. At the time I bought the book because my Grandmother always kept an edition of the Guide on her windowsill. As a child I remember looking through her window at the birds in her garden. I also remember being a bit disappointed that I never saw as many birds through that window as were shown in the book. It was not until recently that I came to appreciated the fact that everyone of those pretty pictures was a detailed work of art. I made this revelation as I was reading the Foreword to the Guide. The Foreword was written by Canadian wildlife artist Robert Bateman. Bateman tells of how he received his first Peterson Bird Guide when he was 12 and how it's author, Roger Tory Peterson greatly influenced his life. Bateman talks about the discipline one must have to render such works when he says, "You cannot get loose and sloppy even once. You must always pay attention, not only to the detail, but to the general shape and form". He then goes on to praise Peterson further, ""Every species has been sweated over, brushstroke by brush stroke". Roger Tory Peterson documented the species he loved through his art, however art was never his goal. I believe he expressed his true goal when he said, "We must reach all mentors of children, their teachers and those who teach teachers. We must give them the tools and instill in them a responsibility for creating in their young charges a knowledge and love of nature". So it turns out that my Grandmother's Field Guide was more then a book with pretty pictures. It was the vessel used by Roger Tory Peterson to instill in us a knowledge and love of nature. 
The water can be mirror like in the early morning. The reflections of the sun, clouds, treeline and houses in the water got me wondering about what the birds flying overhead might think about when seeing their image below. Do you think they are checking themselves out?
My Mom recently gave my daughter a couple of Audubon Society Field Guides(Wild Flowers Eastern Region and North American Trees). She was quickly drawn to the wildflowers book as it is full of colourful photos of flowers of every colour including pink which is her favorite. There are so many flowers on the trail and it is amazing how this one little book holds the key to unlocking the mystery to each one of them. The field guide has arranged the flower photos according to colour and then has a corresponding description, habitat and comments page. We decided that we would pick one flower each during our walk and then go home to learn more about the flowers in her guide. My daughter picked what looked like a common daisy and I chose a bulb like flower that is very abundant along the side of the trail these days. As we were flipping though the Audubon Field Guide we came across many similar looking flowers and really needed to check the shape of the leaf and read the description before settling on what we hoped was the correct identity for each or our wildflowers. We then set out to draw the flowers we had picked learning even more about each flower as we attempted to put it's likeness on the paper. For instance the Oxeye Daisy's petals are almost blunt at the end and not rounded. The flower of the Bladder Campion is emerging from within the bulb which will eventually reveal the entire flower leaving the bulb shape in tact. It was a fun and educational way to spend an hour or so after school. Thanks for the books Mom.
