Monsters, squirrels, silly me

Bits and pieces; some links, a busy squirrel, photo fixing, and more.

First, the links; interesting things I've seen these past couple of weeks:

Getting in the mood for Hallowe'en, Tim Eisele posted the story of a suicidal caterpillar, then followed up with an even more gruesome tale of a spider who ended up being prey rather than predator. Warning! Not for "sensitive souls". (We critter fans should have no problem with them.)

More "Ewwww" posts: Sea lice eat a dead pig, and "Is this fish evil?" An enquiry into the reasons for our shudders. From Deep Sea News.

Big and beautiful. Ted MacRae calls this a "Monster in the night", but he ends up taking it home as a pet for his daughter. If you skipped the last four links, this one is safe.

This I found fascinating; some land-based hermit crabs do more than just move into discarded shells that they find. Instead, they remodel them first, scraping them out for more room, and less weight, which gives them more speed without sacrificing the protection they need. From the BBC.

Great news! I and the Bird is back! And with a wonderful new format! Do you have posts to contribute? Go check out the new guidelines.

One more. This was really helpful, and has inspired me to take another look at some of my older photos. Ted MacRae takes an old, "crappy" (his word) photo of a beautiful beetle, applies his improved editing skills, and comes out with a decent photo. And don't miss Alex Wild's little fixes (in the comments) that turn it into a dazzling, shiny jewel.

I've picked out a few of my really old ones, and followed Ted's lead. One was the cat photo I posted a couple of days ago. Here's another: a terrible photo of a flatworm, very small, taken with one of my first cheap cameras; slightly unfocused, sprinkled with sand, and against a jumbled background. A few tweaks, and here's what I came up with.

Going places.

Not perfect, but passable. Looks like digging through those old files might be profitable.

Current events: here's a crappy photo which no amount of Photoshopping will fix. It's been a dreary, grey day, pouring rain and windy*. I was at my desk when rapid movement outside attracted my attention. Something was violently shaking a branch of the maple tree. Had to be a squirrel. I took a photo, without flash, through the window. Of course, the shutter was slow, and this is what the camera saw. (Still better than what I saw.)

A squirrel, all right. But what's he after?

He stopped suddenly, ran back up the branch and sat with his back to me. A minute later, he scrambled back down to the tip, and yanked at a winged seed, still not ready to fall and clinging tightly to its branch tip. The whole tree danced with their struggle, squirrel against seed. The squirrel won after a long tussle.

Remaining seeds, resting while the squirrel sits up-branch, eating the latest victim.

And, in the "Silly me" category:

In London Drugs this afternoon, I noticed some specialty reading glasses from Foster Grant, designed for working at a computer screen. They have an amber tint, that is supposed to

• Reduce eye strain and improve contrast
• Reduce blue light
• Reduce glare
• Reduce eye fatigue

Worth a try. And only $30. I bought a pair.

And they do help. The burning I've been feeling lately is gone, and my eyes aren't watering, even after a few hours on the computer.

So here I was editing photos, and the colours just wouldn't come out right. I clicked on areas that were supposed to be white, and they came out orangey. The greens were brown and muddy. I puzzled over those greens for a long while, then gave up and saved a photo as-is. Half-way through the next, I remembered those so-helpful glasses. I took them off, and -- it's miraculous! -- the photos fixed themselves instantly!

Derp!

*And in spite of the stormy weather, the trick or treaters were out tonight, with big jackets over their costumes.

Brown squirrel

... with stone angel feet.

I love those pink ears!

And it just stopped raining. For now.

Ma Squirrel

I'm getting the hang of positioning and focusing the BirdCam. For now, it goes on the ground in the daytime, on the tripod at night. The nights have been quiet, but by day, I'm seeing chickadees and a black squirrel that never stops moving.

Today, a grey female showed up:

Hello? Did I hear a click?

"Again? Do I need to worry?"

No, little one; no worries. And I see you have kits; 6 hungry kits. Eat up, eat up! There's more where that came from.

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And now it's only four days until Rock Flipping Day, this Sunday, September 9th. I've invited a 6-foot teenager to come and help me with a couple of big rocks across the street.

Instructions, history, etc.

Wordless, or thereabouts

"Sunflower seeds!"

"Love these! Thanks!"

Larcenous squirrel

Sampling the merchandise ...

And planning the heist ...

Will my chain and wire hold? I've bought a new cage, just in case.

Bushtits vs. squirrels; who will win?

The squirrels stole my suet cage. I had it tied on a branch with good steel wire; it didn't deter them. They were welcome to snack on the suet, but not to take it away, cage and all.

I got another cage, and more suet, and double-wired it. They stole that one.

I found a third torn off the tree, abandoned half-way down the lawn. Empty, of course. They managed to steal that one for good, with its suet refill, a bit later.

I've been looking for a new cage since the weather turned cold. Everywhere, they've been sold out; I think all the local squirrels have been busy.

Finally, two days ago, I found one in the supermarket. This one came with a heavier chain than the previous three; I've hung it from the chain, and added new wire.

A flock of bushtits found the suet by the next morning. I love to watch how they all swoop in, as if blown by the wind, swarm over the cage, hanging from all sides and the bottom for a couple of minutes, and then blow down and away, like little grey leaves.

I count 17 here.

"Wait for me!"

I wonder how long this one will last.

Grey day, with accent colours.

The morning dawned grey and cold, and the few rays of pale sunshine that warmed the treetops were gone by noon. We put off going to the beach; the warmth of home appealed to us more. I fed my home birds and stood at the window, attempting to take photos in the shade without flash. The juncos and sparrows proved impossible; brown blurs on brown earth under brown branches. At least I was warm.

And there was still plenty to see:

Chickadee and turtle. The birdbath is stored until it stops freezing unexpectedly, but Mr. T. holds drinking water.

Rather scruffy squirrel. One of a pair that came together, and obviously the loser of several fights. Patches of hair missing, a bloody ear, and a badly irritated eye. (On the left side, not visible.)

Varied thrush, stopping the search for grubs to see what I was up to.

Checking the aquarium, I found a carnivorous snail eating light, for a change.

Detail of the shell. Look at that unusual squiggly tip.

Distant sunset 

We made a quick trip to the mall for muffins and meds. The sky, as we walked back to the car, was covered in spectacular, bright clouds. By the time I'd freed my hands, got the camera out of my pocket, and turned it on, it had faded to this. Sic transit gloria, Monday! (Sorry. I'll be good now.)

Injured Epimedium*. Not exactly Rowdy* at the moment.

I love this plant; it stays green through the winter, and when everything else freezes, it just turns red and keeps on growing. This winter, however, I was cleaning up before Christmas, and jostled the planter. Turns out the hook was rusty, after several years of use. It broke off and the whole (heavy) pot landed upside-down on my head. Ouch!

Luckily, most of the soil was frozen hard, so it stayed together. But the top of the plant was worse off than my head, broken and twisted. And I had no time to deal with it, so it got jammed back in the pot any old way. It will recover, but not yet. Still, it soldiers valiantly on, providing colour and cheer even on grey days.

*Also patiently tolerating other names, such as Rowdy Lamb Herb, Barrenwort, Bishop's Hat, Fairy Wings, Horny Goat Weed, or Yin Yang Huo. (Wikipedia)

Spring break

It's spring! *Does a happy happy springy spring dance. Woo-hoo!* *Comes back down to earth.*

Well, maybe it's not quite spring, but my patch of lily of the valley is full of brand-new, spiky flower stalks. Good enough for me. And the hellebore is budding up; I'll have flowers soon. Spring!

Lily of the valley from last year's crop.

 I have two hellebore plants. One is in a big planter just outside the back door, and I noticed the first new sprouts last week. But of three stalks, two were broken off and lying on the dirt. I blamed cutworms or something similar. (So early in the year?)  Then I caught a squirrel in the act; staring me insolently in the face, he jumped into the planter, bit the last sprout off at the top, and ate the bud.

I dashed out to check the other plant; it was fine, so far. But I upended a pot rack over it and piled rocks on top. Just try to nibble those, Mr. Bud Eater! I wired a holey ice cream bucket over the injured one. Looks awful, but no squirrel is going to have my hellebores.

I don't think they eat Lily of the Valley. They'd better not.

And now, I'm watching for the first green shoots of the rest; daffs and crocuses any day now. And at least a few hellebores.

Dutchman's Breeches, March 2010

Bleeding heart, March 2010

Now, back to the grindstone. Almost done with this batch. (I'm editing documents for my son's business.)

Beaks full of snow

Backyard birds, last really cold day. (For now.)

Varied thrush.

Another.

Junco

Bushtits. The streaks are wet snow pelting down. Rain's a-coming!

Fox sparrow, keeping warm. No snow here.

House finch.

Squirrel eating all the yummy nuts.

And now it's raining. The snow has turned to brown mush sprinkled with fallen evergreen cones and needles, where it's not gone altogether. Back to Lower Mainland normal.

Friendly neighbour

I had a visitor today. He came to the door, and stood there for a long time, close to the glass, watching me at the desk, turning his head to one side and the other, smiling at me, his curiosity untinged by caution. If I had opened the door, I'm sure he would have come in and made himself at home.

I reached for the camera, brought it down over the edge of the desk. A new thing to wonder about!  He stood tall on his two feet ("See, I can stand just like you big humans!"), watching while I took several shots, adjusting the camera until I could reduce the reflections on the glass. He found this all very interesting; such a nice, bright, shiny thing to play with!

After a while, he went away, slowly, up the maple tree to snack on the ripe seeds. He stopped by later, to see if I was still there. Smiled some more, and went on home.

Guilty!

I had to crawl along the floor, on my elbows and in the dark. I had to shoot through a closed door. But the ambush was successful; I caught my perp, Ms. Squirrel, here, in flagrante delicto.

"Manos en la masa" Red-handed, literally, "hands in the dough." And seed on her lips.

I had laid out a little platter of bird seed drizzled with the last of my good shortening, to tempt the juncos in close enough for a photo. They never got a chance.

And the thief escaped, to continue her depredations another day.

(Laurie says he thinks she's pregnant. Could be. If so, she's forgiven; can't deny a mother-to-be her cravings!)

Driving me distracted

I'm working at my desk; movement outside the window distracts me. A swinging, bouncing branch with a pincushion wildly dancing beneath. I grab the camera, plant my elbows on the desk and try to focus.

Bushtits and suet.

The bushtits leave. I go back to work. Again, the branch bounces.

"Glad they left some for me."

"May as well finish it off."

Finally, the branch slows and stops. Maybe now I can get in a focused shot.

Well, yes. Although the subject matter is not quite what I was hoping for.

I need a big mirror over on the evergreens, with a spotlight on the feeder. And another case-lot of suet.

Home of the green bear

Have I never blogged about Bear Creek Park? I find that incredible, but I have searched my posts, Googled them; nary a mention. I wrote, in May of 2008, about the owlets we found there, without naming the park. I will have to remedy that.

We pass the park several times a month, on our way to Central City mall. Sometimes, if the weather is right, we drop in for a look at the gardens; the flowers are always beautiful and there is a creek with ducks and dragonflies, a train full of kids in season, a skeleton of a wedding chapel. The lawns are wide, ringed with tall trees. A peaceful interlude before we brave the traffic and parking lot insanity at the mall.

Now, at the end of October, most of the flowers have disappeared. The grass is sopping wet, the creek bedraggled and choked with fallen leaves. The big leaves of the Gunnera are half rotten. The wisterias draped over the arbour and gate are just a tangled mass of brown stems.

I find it more beautiful, even, than in its summer glory.

A tree-full of red.

Sleek crow.

A sprinkling of little mushrooms.

High overhead, dried oak leaves and acorns.

A big wasps' nest, probably abandoned now that the nights are cold.

Hybrid mallard/??. Look at those pretty feathers on the wing! (Click for full size.)

Spiky needles on a pine.

Begging for peanuts. Sorry, I had empty pockets.

A few flowers still bloom.

And a new resident; the green bear!

We passed a few gardeners laying out bulbs for spring flowers, several wheelbarrows full, even after a couple of large beds were set out. I asked about squirrel damage; at home, every year the squirrels have dug up and eaten most of my crocuses and daffodils. The gardener explained their system: the bulbs are laid out, then about four inches of topsoil go on top. After that, bloodmeal, which the squirrels hate. Then another three inches of compost, and another layer of bloodmeal. Sometimes they add a sheet of wire netting on top.

Next time I'm at the garden supply, I'll get more bulbs. And bloodmeal.
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Back to my responsibilities

Sometimes three days is more than enough time for a break. Vancouver is interesting, and Strathcona is beautiful, but I'd missed my companions at home. These guys welcomed me back today;

A tiny spider, waiting on the plate under my Christmas cactus. One of Brownie's relatives.

Chickadee, checking to see if I'd refilled the bird bath yet.

House finch, spinning around the feeder.

And the first junco of the season, back from her wanderings.

Young squirrel, trying to find the Zick dough I'd put in a hanging planter for the juncos.

"Ok, where'd you hide it? I can smell it, but I don't see it."

And Spot, in the aquarium. He likes the lights and camera; the other two crabs hide.

Beautiful pattern on his back.

And one of the hermits, very tiny, blue polka-dotted.

I've fed some, watered others, found a safer spot for Baby Brownie. The squirrel (one of Scruffy's brood, I think) found the Zick dough and stuffed himself. No matter, I've got more in the fridge.

It's good to be home!

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