Happy cottonwood

The redwing blackbird males are back at the Centennial Beach duck pond, and tuning up for the big nesting site sale, starting when the first females arrive.

Cottonwood tree full of contented chirps, squeaks, and quiet "Konk-i-rees". Full chorus begins soon.

The powers that be have fenced off the duck pond and surrounded it with shrubbery. Not so handy for us bird watchers; once the shrubs have leafed out, we will have to stand on picnic tables to see the birds. But the ducks seem pleased, and the reedy island in the centre will be a better nesting site than before. More private, and with less floating trash, I think.

Red, red, red.

Along the short access road leading off the main road into Centennial Beach Park, I always drive very slowly, so that we can count eagles, look for hawks, maybe even catch sight of an osprey off in the distance. Sometimes we find something a little closer, a little less fleeting.

Like Crimson Clover.

Clover along the side of the road. Trifolium incarnatum, aka Scarlet Clover, Italian Clover, German Clover.

We saw it first a few years ago, and every year since then, I've been looking for it, without luck. last week, there it was again. I stopped, as I had before, and we got down in the grass and examined it up close.

One stalk, and it looks like 4 leaves; our lucky clover!

This is a European import. On this continent, it grows from southern Canada, down through the US, and, where the climate is warm enough, as in southern BC, is used as a winter ground cover. Planted from seed (or gone wild, as here) in late summer or fall, it grows slowly over the winter, then bursts briefly into bloom in the spring. Then it disappears into the grass. No wonder we haven't seen it every year; we have to be there the right days.

It's a tall, strong clover, when it's in bloom. The heads are large and taller than most clovers.

Zooming in on that gloriously red head.

This road goes through the sandy dunes between the marsh and the beach area; poor soil, rather acid, exposed to drying winds in the higher areas, home to grasses and scratchy shrubs.The clover thrives here possibly because of its strong root system, which reaches down deep and spreads, holding the sand. Like all clovers, it adds nitrogen to the soil.

Some websites tell me it's good for animal forage. Others disagree. Laurie's old book, Fodder and Pasture Plants, from the Canadian Department of Agriculture (a 1913 book!) says it's "especially suitable for those (farm animals) doing heavy work." It seems that the trick is using it just until it flowers, but never afterwards.

I forgot to check, while I had the clover in hand, whether its nectar is sweet at this stage. Our ordinary pink clover is sweet; the small white flowers aren't.

We'll watch for it next April and May again.

Crow and green umbrella

At Centennial Beach Cafe and washrooms*:

Doing a little dance for me

* The new building, in what used to be part of the marshland. We've used the washrooms, but not the cafe. Yet.

Fallen leaves

And a hint of mist . . .

Centennial Park, Tsawwassen

We had 50-some trick-or-treaters, plus parents, this evening. I am so tired now, I can't keep my eyes open to the end of a sentence.

Goodnight!

Baker's dozen

Even with this October's uninspiring weather, photos accumulate in my files.  I've been tidying up. These are random shots from White Rock and Boundary Bay, in no particular order:

Gull, White Rock

Watching the coal train wall off the beach

White Rock tracks

Reflections, duck pond, Centennial Park. Laurie gets me to throw in stones to tangle up the shadows.

Laurie says he took this one by mistake. But I like it. Upper beach, Boundary Bay.

Red, yellow, green and brown.

I was taking photos of mallards in the shade at the duck pond, and I disturbed this kingfisher. He scolded bitterly as he flew to this dead tree, out of my camera's range . . .

 

... but not quite beyond Laurie's.

Texture on drift log, White Rock

Peeking.

On a driftwood log, there were two of these brown and orange fungi, standing out against the silvery sand and wood.

Stump, Centennial Park. With a heart-shaped hole, for Clytie.

White Rock, the last sunny day, with a smelt fisherman and 7 paddle-boarders.

More tomorrow. Gotta catch up!

Little green apples

The first yellowed maple leaf fell on the garden this afternoon, signalling the beginning of the end of our summer. And under the apple tree at Centennial Park, the ground is covered with small, wormy apples, half green, half red.

I bit into one. Too hard to chew, and sour, to boot.

Circle tour

I have a theory - in the totally non-scientific use of the word, meaning a guess about evidence badly infected with confirmation bias - that the harder it rains, the sooner it will quit. After all, raining hard will drain out all the water up there sooner, won't it? And when it does, it can't rain any more, can it?

Laurie laughs at me, but I have one more bit of "proof"; Saturday afternoon, it rained so hard that I missed my regular exit off the freeway because I couldn't see it. And a mere two hours later, the sun was shining. See?

So Sunday, the sun shone all day, from early morning till dusk. Not a cloud in the sky above us; summer blues. Beautiful!

And, of course, we went to the beach. Boundary Bay, parking in Centennial Park, and walking south on the sand, then back to the car through the streets of Beach Grove. The tide was 'way out, and the walking was easy, but the wind was vicious; in spite of the sunshine, we were bundled up to the ears.

Laurie took this directly into the sun, so it turned out like a moonlight photo.  We both loved those ripples in the sand.

Sand ripples merge into water kicked up by the wind.

There wasn't much else to see out there; seaweed, sand, blue sky, and far in the distance, the bay. Glorious, but boring, from the cameras' point of view. Four or five eagles were sitting out on the furthest sandbars, just black dots with white tops at that distance. We found more camera fodder once we returned to shore.

Heather, primulas, pansies, and tiny daffodils.

Chickweed, a couple of inches high.

Paper-white crocuses.

We were surprised to see azalea so early.

More crocuses, my favourites; purple and white striped.

The first ladybug of the year, under the watchful eye of an old log.

This bee, Bombus melanopygus, I think, was working a heather patch. I chased him down until I got one fuzzy photo. Then he disappeared. Look at that nice new paint job!  The orange belly almost looks metallic.

Laurie found this old telephone pole with a crown of old man's beard reflected in the trunk of a car.

And back to the parking lot, looking out towards the bay. It's almost supper time; the  shadows are stretching. The clouds hide our circle of mountains.

Bare tree, with trash can. I do wish they wouldn't paint them in such intrusive colours!

Then off to Tim Horton's for a warming cuppa. Afterwards, we stopped in at the nursery to buy sea soil and manure. I got a bag of primulas, yellow and white. Spring is here; the garden beckons.

Crows in love

It's pairing up time, again.

"It's just you 'n me, babe ..."

"... against the world out there."

Wordless wigeon

Centennial Beach duck pond; by the reed island.

Is there a duck doctor in the house?

This Northern pintail has a damaged wing. Walking, he drags it on the ground; I didn't see him fly, which may be problematic. Swimming, he's ok.

The wing drags a bit in the water, but he steers fine.

He's fortunate to be at the Centennial Beach duck pond; there is plenty of cover in the reeds, food on the ground and in the water, and good company. Even females and nesting sites. What more could a duck want? (A duck doctor, maybe?)

We've been busy all week with various things, doings good and good-but-no-fun and one no-good-very-sad day, but we did manage the beach today, and the sun broke through the fog a few minutes after we'd ventured out into the grey mist. So kind of it! And we made some exciting finds, too!

Tomorrow's another of those days. This one promises to be a treat, but I may be too exhausted to blog when I get home. See you Monday, at least, then I'll start playing catch-up.

Early birds

We were surprised, when we parked at Centennial Beach a few days ago, to find the cottonwood trees around the duck pond full of redwing blackbirds, all in full cry. We've seen them at Reifel Island in mid-winter, where they are well fed, but they don't usually appear in the Boundary Bay area until late March. The males show up first, then, in April, the females can be seen nesting in the reeds.

But now, not only are they early, but there are females with them.

We got only a few photos, all against the light, before we moved on; we were too cold to stand around. And we couldn't even see the ones in the cottonwoods, where most of the song was coming from.

Female in a small willow tree.

At least two adult males, one young male (on the right), and a female.

I hope the warm weather (for mid-winter, that is) holds, if they're going to start nesting soon.

Green, brown, black, black.

Also blue.

Crow on a green tree.

Crow on a brown tree.

Centennial Beach duck pond, July.

Tents among the willows

In a willow tree where redwing blackbirds stand guard ...

Redwing and swallow, Centennial Beach Park

 and sing to their mates in the reeds below ...

two families of tent caterpillars have set up camp.

Basking in the sunshine. When it sets, or the rain returns, they will hide under their warm blanket.

Five caterpillars, and oodles of caterpillar poop.

These are the western tent caterpillars, Malacosoma californicum, recognizable by their location, their tents, and the orange and blue spots along their sides and backs. They feed on willows, like this one, cottonwoods, aspen, apple, plum, and other local deciduous trees and shrubs (such as roses), sometimes covering the whole tree with one enormous web.

Overnight, or in cool weather, they huddle in their web, but when the weather is warm they venture out to feed on new leaves and buds, stripping the branches down to the bare twigs. Back in the warmth of the nest, they digest the edible part of the leaves and excrete the rest in little tube-shaped pellets, which eventually rain down to fertilize the ground underneath the tree.

I always shudder to see a tree completely encased in caterpillar tents, so I was reassured by a half-dozen web pages saying that their depredations rarely kill a healthy tree; in a month or so, after they have eaten their fill and gone off to build cocoons instead, the tree puts out new leaves, none the worse for wear.

In the case of a few infested branches, it is easy enough to cut them down on a rainy day, and destroy them. We used to burn them, but drowning or squashing will do.

Some birds may eat them; I don't know if the redwing blackbirds will.

Life's a beach

Random photos from a happy afternoon on the beach:

Centennial Beach duck pond, beach watchers, and a kite.

A mile of sand, a bit of water, Crescent Beach, and Mount Baker

Teenagers digging a hole. Or making a mountain of sand.

Seaweed and eelgrass in ankle-deep water.

Out where the water was knee-deep, I saw this large, pink starfish.

Most of our starfish are purple or orange; I thought, at first, that this one must have been dead and fading. But no; he was very much alive, eating a clam, which he dropped when I dangled him out of the water. He squirmed and waved his tube feet around, trying to get away. I put him back as soon as Laurie took his photo.

Long, creamy yellow tube feet.

Back at the duck pond, the yellow irises are blooming.

The mystery plant of two weeks ago turned out to be an alium. Kate and Upupaepops were right.

Red sorrel, beach pea, plantain, etc., on a driftwood log.