Who's Spying on Whom?

Wednesday evening I attended the second meeting of the birding club started by Jonah, age 11.  We met at the Tern Lake picnic area for a field trip, and we had a grand time.   Jonah is our local bird expert.   I've tried to stump him a few times with an unusual bird, but he was always way ahead of me.   Jonah can also identify each bird by its sound, and mimic it.

His mom held her hand out at about the three foot level, indicating how high Jonah's stack of bird books would be if he piled them up.  "And they're reference books, not kids' books."   He was three when he first expressed his interest in birds.

Jonah was carrying a DSLR camera with a fantastic lens.   "Wow, Jonah," I said, "there's your first year's college tuition right there."  The camera was a gift from his grandfather.

He also got a great shot of a yellow warbler that was flitting around and not holding still.  Tough to do.  I could not.

This boardwalk is where people can watch spawning salmon entering the lake later this summer.

A part of the lake from a viewpoint I rarely photograph.

The highlight was the Saw-whet Owl's nest.

The owl's nest is in the box fastened to the tree.  Rose has an app on her smart phone that shows us a close-up of any bird.

 We spied on the obliging owl for a bit, then wandered the trails looking for more birds.  Yellow Warblers showed up, and at the lake, Mew Gulls and Arctic Terns were flying around.  Yellow-legged Sandpipers passed by and disappeared in the floating vegetation on the lake.


My very thoughtful neighbor Miles brought two kayaks and escorted first Jonah and then Hanna onto the lake to see the birds close up.

That's Jonah on the boardwalk, Hannah getting into a kayak while Miles waits in his kayak, and Jonah's mom.

While Miles watched over the youngsters on the lake, I had a chat with fellow litter-picker Sam from Seward.   He's been tending a stretch of highway just out of Seward for many, many years.  We swapped litter stories and techniques.

Sam is looking for Mountain goats on the mountains across the lake.

 

Sam picks up litter while riding a four-wheeler (ATV) with a garbage can on its cargo deck.   He said he's put 2500 miles on it since he started picking up litter, and asked me how many miles I've put on my truck.  I hadn't a clue, because I do only a mile a day.   My farthest point away from home is 40 miles.

But, back to birding.

 Another neighbor, Rose, read off her list of birds spotted recently.   Most of them were in her yard, some here at Tern Lake, and another at Kenai Lake.

"TL" is for Tern Lake and "KL" is for Kenai Lake.

My goodness. 

On the way home, I stopped to check on the Red Necked Grebe.  I understand when the ducklings hatch they climb up on mama's back.   I would love to see that.

Looks like all is fine.   The three-year-old brown bear hasn't found her yet.   Miles' mom chased it off the highway near the lake at noon, and that evening his dad had to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting it in his driveway.   Mom says it acts like it doesn't know what to do.   It's on its own for the first time.


As to spying on the birds,  who's spying on whom?

Love this picture.   Too bad it isn't in tight focus.

Gullible's Gazette

MUNDANE ITEMS
OF CASUAL INTEREST

 
YOU ONLY HAVE ONE CHANCE TO MAKE A FIRST IMPRESSION:

I've been hearing about them so on a recent hot day in Anchorage , I stopped at McFastfood and ordered a McFlurry.

This is how it was presented to me:

The McMess looked like it was barfing.

MORNINGS AND EVENINGS:

Trail Lake in the morning

Summit Lake in the evening.  The camera can't quite capture the golden hue on the water.   That's a campground across the lake.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, INSTANT GRATIFICATION:

Speaking of lakes, I stopped one evening at the Tern Lake overlook and took this photo.

This is the smaller part of the lake.

Then I drove down to the pullout where a photographer asked me if the view was better up above.   He climbed the hill, took photos, then later came back down to the lake.

He has a camera on a tripod, a camera hanging from each shoulder, and he's taking photos with his smart phone.   Instant posting instant gratification.  I wonder if he uses the phone to video an explanation of where he is so he can identify his camera photos?

FORGET ME NOT:

I came across these Forget-Me-Nots while picking up litter.  In covering 50 miles of Seward Highway, this is the first time I have seen this flower along the highway.

Not quite in focus on macro, but a better representation of the true color.  One of the reasons it's the state flower is its color--blue and gold.   The state flag is also blue and gold--blue of the sky and gold for the Great North Star.  The Big Dipper and the North Star are represented on the flag against a field of blue.

This is where I found the flowers, right above where my yellow litter bag is sitting.  I think the seeds were placed there intentionally.

Beautimous:

 CHANGING OF THE SEASONS:

Dogs shed, moose shed, bears shed, and mountains shed their snow white duvets.   This occurred yesterday afternoon while I was assembling the mow deck on my John Deere tractor.

The mountain somewhat behind my home.

It started in the cornice at the top.

                        

LITTER PICKING SPONSORS:

This summer's litter picking brought to you by Carlene, who told me about lamb's wool, and Celiene, who picked up four rolls of paper tape in Anchorage for me.

Warning:   Graphic Photo.   Sensitive eyes might want to turn away now.   Hide your children.

Ready to go.

First Bite

Saturday evening I was picking up litter in the Silvertip area.  It was later in the day than I usually go out, and it didn't take the mosquitoes very long at all to find me.   There wasn't enough breeze to keep them at bay, so I thought about quitting after the first quarter-mile up and back.

I KNEW I didn't have any bug dope in the truck.  I KNEW I'd taken it out last fall after all the bugs had gone to ground for the winter.   Nonetheless, I searched the truck while simultaneously swatting and, sure enough, no repellant. 

While annoying, mosquito bites from Alaskan mosquitoes only bother me for about an hour, unlike those bites from Mexican mosquitoes than itch for a week or more.  Apparently I've built up a resistance of sorts after 66 years up here. 

I grabbed my litter stick and bags and set off on another quarter-mile stretch.   I was reminded of an incident a couple years ago (http://gullible-gulliblestravels.blogspot.com/search/label/mosquitoes) when I was plagued with hordes of bugs and did decide to quit.   Up ahead about 75 feet was a very obvious piece of white litter, so I went to get that before I returned to the truck.

Lo and behold, it was a bottle of insect repellant, broken and leaking, but still containing enough for me to bathe in it.  Then, I continued on litter picking with a swarm of  frustrated mosquitoes in my wake.

Last evening while I was thinking about that bit of serendipity, not 50 feet from my truck I reached for a white container to put in the litter sack.  I'm sure you've guessed by now what it was.  

 But, alas, serendipity did not strike twice.  

 Thus, I acquired my first mosquito bite of the season.  Also the second through eleventh.   Just what is it about elbows that mosquitoes love so much, anyway?

The Good Lord Willin' and the Creek Don't Rise

That interminable winter we had has caused all sorts of problems here in Alaska.  Besides throwing us into depression and causing outbreaks of cabin fever,  far more serious consequences have plagued the villages and towns along major riverways farther north than where I live.

Temperatures stayed cold, and we even had snow in late May.  Migrating waterfowl found lakes still covered in ice.

Mergansers at Tern Lake

Then a high pressure system bullied its way in and temperatures suddenly soared into the 80s.   Overnight, it was summer.   Tiny chilled leaf buds exploded.  Apparently we skipped spring altogether.

Large rivers thawed far too quickly.  Massive blocks of ice, propelled by the undercurrent but held back by the thick layer of ice on top of the water, jammed up into huge ice dams.   Villages upstream were flooded,  and the blocks of ice--driven onshore by the tremendous hydraulic power, scraped the riverbanks clean of any structures in their path.

The village of Galena on the Yukon River, to name just one affected, has on-going flooding problem and its residents have evacuated to other areas.  Electricity has been out for days, causing frozen meat to thaw and spoil.  That has created another problem--the threat of bears coming into town.

Because the road to the dump is under water, there is talk of using a helicopter to remove the "bear bait" and deposit it at the dump.

Closer to home, that sudden rise into unusual temperatures in this region has caused rapid melting of snow, resulting in rising levels in creeks, streams, rivers, and lakes.

Down at Tern Lake, a pair of Red Necked Grebes apparently thought they were nesting on lakefront property.

 

They certainly had a scenic view for raising theirs ducklings.

The grebe nest is center-bottom.

Then came those hot, hot days and they found themselves nesting IN the lake.

A closer view yesterday shows they had the sense to build a mud dike lined with grass and all seems well, but there's still a lot of snow up on them thar' mountains.  Cooler temperatures have slowed the melting, otherwise Mrs. Grebe might float right off her nest.

But all is not well for the Grebe family.

Nature isn't kind.   At times it's downright dangerous.   A hundred feet down the road from this nest that's way too close to the highway, there is bear scat left by one of two juvenile brown bears.  Some  little duck eggs would taste mighty fine to one of them.

This bear was in my neighbor's yard a couple days ago.   It's young, probably just run off by mama.   Just the right age to be a trouble-maker and not at all afraid of humans.

Pablo Gets His Medicine

I went to Anchorage Monday and picked up the medicine that will help ease the discomfort in Pablo's arthritic feet.  This is what Dr. Nicholson of College Village Animal Clinic prescribed:

A sweet, citrus-tasting medication and a small syringe to administer 0.06 ml by mouth.  "This is gonna be fun," I said.  When I got home, and Pablo was sitting on my knee, I offered the syringe and....

 Well, I'll let Pablo tell the rest of the story....

Get that thing away from me!

 Oh, a spoon.  That's more like it.

I'll hold it myself.

(Ed. note:  There goes the first dose.)

I can do it.   I can do it.

Just a minute.  You try doing this with your foot.

Mmmm-mmmm.   Good.

More, please.

(Ed. note:  The most fun was chewing up the bottle cap.)