“The Flowers of Middle Summer” by Henri Fantin-Latour
The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after. ~ Natalie Babbitt (Tuck Everlasting)
Yesterday afternoon a flash of bright red in the arborvitae trees behind our condo caught my eye. This little fellow was feasting away on the tree’s seeds, off and on, all afternoon. When Tim got home he decided to take some pictures through the sliding glass doors. My Facebook friends helped me to identify him.
7.24.17 ~ house finch by Timothy Rodgers
I know most people don’t feel the same way, but the weather yesterday was wonderful! The temperatures were about 20 degrees below normal and we got a good soaking rain. It felt like October! What a pleasant respite from the heat of summer ~ no hum from the air conditioner and a visit from this sweet little bird.
Guess who’s back? Monday evening at the beach I was sad that I still hadn’t seen my gull friend with the mangled foot. But Friday night I spotted him! He was up to his old tricks and promptly stole a foot-long hot dog from a woman sitting at one of the picnic tables. After devouring it on a rock nearby he flew away without evening stopping by to say hello.
7.22.17
But tonight (Saturday) he made up for it, flying right to the white post in front of us. He talked to us for quite a while as you can see from these pictures. Not sure what he’s got stuck on his beak — maybe a feather from another gull? Maybe he was complaining about it — he sure had a lot to say about something or other.
7.22.17
It was nice to see him looking so self-assured and sprightly. 🙂
7.22.17
We didn’t stay long. There was no sea breeze for some reason. Barely any waves. It was hazy and muggy and none of the sailboats had their sails up. The ocean has many moods.
While Tim & I were eating our supper at the beach last night we noticed a great egret fishing for a meal. After we finished I decided to see how close I could get to him for some pictures. He didn’t seem to notice me at all, his attention was so focused on fish in the water.
7.17.17 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach
Got it!
7.17.17 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach
The fish put up a good struggle but the egret kept at it until he got the fish in the right position to gulp it down.
7.17.17 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach
It was really over quite fast ~ my eye didn’t see as much as the “sports” setting on the camera was able to capture.
7.17.17 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach
I’m amazed he didn’t drop the fish at some point!
7.17.17 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach
Ready to swallow!
7.17.17 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach
And then it was gone. Followed by a quick sip of water…
7.17.17 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach
Since he was still studying the water I wondered if he was preparing for another strike or if he needed to wait a little to make room for more.
7.17.17 ~ great egret at Eastern Point Beach
My sister and I saw a great egret fishing at the beach back in 2013, but I didn’t have my camera that morning. This is the first time I got a picture of one with a fish in its mouth! I’m still bubbling with excitement. 🙂
For 32 years the concession stand at our beach was run by Bob & Pat Garcia, but sadly, Pat died this past April. We miss them terribly! Their foot-long hot dogs were inexpensive and very high quality. We always had one with sauerkraut on it. Someone else is running the stand now and we’re doing our best to get used to the change. The hot dogs and sauerkraut are not nearly as good. But last night we sampled a handcrafted hamburger and decided we could live with that and continue our summer tradition, slightly altered.
I haven’t seen my gull friend with the mangled foot this year, so that is making me a little melancholy, as well. But having a chance to photograph the great egret catching his dinner brightened my mood considerably. 🙂
But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called – called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to come. ~ Jack London (The Call of the Wild)
6.10.17 ~ Connecticut College Arboretum mountain laurel
So… there were other treasures waiting to be discovered while we were on our long hike Saturday. In 1907 the mountain laurel, a lovely native American shrub, was designated as the official state flower of Connecticut. They are just starting to blossom and we saw loads of them.
wild geranium, another native wildflower
I was raised by the melody Of the whispering grove And learned to love Among the flowers. ~ Friedrich Hölderlin (Odes & Elegies)
eastern blue-eyed grass, another native wildflower
ferns and saplings filling the edge of a meadow
Now, the staff at the arboretum is keeping a meadow open for habitat for several kinds of animals and birds. They also erected several birdhouses and we did see a tree swallow looking out the “window.”
tree swallow and orbs
These shots were very hard to get because they were taken from so far away. I didn’t have a tripod to stabilize the camera and the zoom lens. I climbed a bank on the side of the trail, through a thicket of plants and saplings, and then leaned one arm on a tree to steady my grip, trying to avoid the gypsy moth caterpillars. (I wound up bringing at least one tick home – I hope I won’t find any more…) Even though I had to delete most of the shots I took it was a thrill to get home and find that these three came out!
I love all the orbs I captured…
mosses and grasses
We were just thinking of turning around and retracing our steps when Beverly was beckoned by yet another tree growing through the rocks. So we left the path and carefully navigated our way through uneven terrain of rocks and bushes. I found a spot to take the picture. More orbs!
tree with orbs
looking up the same majestic tree
After finding our way back to the trail I finally put away the camera, took a long drink of water, sprayed on some more bug repellent and enjoyed the long walk back, hands free.
May 2, 2020: When this post was first published I misidentified the bird as a baby bluebird, a mistake that was pointed out to me recently by much more knowledgeable friends. Consensus is that the brightly colored bird is an adult tree swallow! I have edited the text above, but the comments below reflect my original error. Sorry about that!
6.2.17 ~ Avery Pond, Groton, Connecticut great egret by Timothy Rodgers
The camera is an excuse to be someplace you otherwise don’t belong. It gives me both a point of connection and a point of separation. ~ Susan Meiselas (Whitney Museum of American Art: Handbook of the Collection)
black-crowned night heron (?) by Timothy Rodgers
One evening last week Tim took the camera down to the beach and the salt pond and came home with these beautiful shots! I’m pretty sure the bird above is a black-crowned night heron, but if I’m wrong I hope someone will correct me…
swan by Timothy Rodgers
The swan, like the soul of the poet, By the dull world is ill understood. ~ Heinrich Heine (Early Poems, Evening Songs)
swan and cygnet by Timothy Rodgers
When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence. ~ Ansel Adams (3000 Astounding Quotes)
double-crested cormorant by Timothy Rodgers
Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still. ~ Dorothea Lange (Ancestors in the Attic: Making Family Memorabilia into History)
courting pair of double-crested cormorants by Timothy Rodgers
