On Quiet Waters

One good outing in a boat can be absolute magic for the soul. Forget chicken soup. I need the sound of trickling water under a canoe hull, the gentle rock of a boat on calm water.

A couple weeks ago, we mounted an expotition to North Bend State Park, not far over the West Virginia International Boundary with Ohio. About nine years ago, a dam went in, making a long, meandering flooded lake with lots of fascinating elbows and appendices to explore.

David and Mary Jane, Chet Baker's West Virginia parents, alerted us to this place, and all the birds they'd found nesting there made us anxious to explore it. So they brought their huge aluminum canoe, and graciously took our kids in it, while Bill and I zooped around in our one-man canoes.

Get a load of these reflections.

It was immediately clear to us as birdwatchers that we were entering a gallery of cavity-nesting birds the likes of which we'd never experienced.

For the flooded trees all died at the same time, and this made for easy excavation by flickers, red-bellied, hairy and downy woodpeckers.

Flickers, in fact, were going nuts all around us, courting and fighting. These two males engaged in some terrific stunts and dances, vying for a single female. See their black malar marks, or "moustaches?" Those small black dashes on the side of their faces (not the breast crescent; both sexes sport that) mean they're boys.

The males kept engaging each other, approaching, posturing with bills erect. There was a whole lot of woika woika woika-ing going on.

The female flicker's the top bird in this photo. 

Very noisy and amusing, they were.  What a treat to see flickers breeding--outnumbering the starlings, which compete for the cavities the woodpeckers dig. This is one of North America's most ornate birds. All the spots and dashes of jet black on warm brown plumage--they wouldn't really need the golden underwings and tail, or the white rump, or the gray toupee, or the little vee of scarlet on the nape...but flickers have it all.

Sometimes when I see a flicker on the ground I'm reminded of Africa's beautiful hoopoe, which is why I sometimes call flickers the American hoopoe. But usually only to myself or to Bill, because most people have no idea why I'm calling a flicker a hoopoe.

Good grief, they were spectacular. I love this photo--it captures the crazy antics we witnessed as the three birds chased and swirled above the mirrored water. Yes, that's gold in the spread wing of the lower bird. Oh, for a bigger lens, better light, closer approach. But you get the idea.

But flickers weren't the only woodpeckers nesting in the flooded forest of North Bend State Park. There were red-bellied, hairy and downy, pileated too. And then there was the most beautiful woodpecker of all...Bill's totem bird. 

The place is absolutely lousy with red-headed woodpeckers. I hope you're swooning, because we sure were. Red-headed woodpeckers are durn rare any more. Why the loveliest woodpecker must be our rarest...sigh.

More of these red, white and jet beauties anon.

Leaving Chet Baker Behind

I've thought about it. I have this huuuuge backlog of blog topics and fabulous fotos, thanks to thanks to an eventful summer, full of travel and adventure. Laptop malfunctions that ate July didn't help. My Honduras trip still festers on the back burner. Does it make sense to blog Honduras now, when everyone who will want to visit there is waiting to see what happens with the government? Probably n0t. What about North Dakota? That makes as much sense as anything else. Besides, I've got some wonderful things to share.

For the past couple of months, I've been blogging as things happen, and I have to admit it is driving me nuts. I am an ant, and I like to have things in the pantry so I don't have to think about hunting and gathering every day. September is going to be like living in a tornado. I won't be able to blog like a grasshopper, posting every day. So, off to North Dakota and Montana.

Leaving home is painful, but the major source of pain is moot now that Chet Baker has a family to stay with in West Virginia. No stainless steel kennel cubicle for The Bacon. David and Mary Jane were thrilled to welcome him back to Camp Baker, and he was thrilled to accept their invitation. He was a completely different dog through the packing and preparation. No sulking this time! He knew he was going to stay with his beloved WV family. So he was his cheery, kissy, playful self right up until the moment we arrived at David and Mary Jane's.
Oh, he was so happeh to see his West Virginia mether.

And his West Virginia daddeh was just as happy to see him.

Chet Baker set right to work. There were chiptymunks that had not been disciplined for almost a year!
These chiptymunks need a good spanking and I, Chet Baker, am the dog to do it.

David and Mary Jane, I do not know if you are aware that there is a chiptymunk living in your kiln. That cannot be allowed. I will take care of this problem for you. He will need to be evicted, and Offisa Pupp is on the job.


No chiptymunk will go unaccounted for when I am cruising in the black and white.

At last it came time for final kisses and hugs to the puppeh. Phoebe and Liam and I smothered him in love. He followed us halfway up the walk until I told him he was going to have to stay with David and Mary Jane. At that, he tucked his tail and turned back, walking slowly back to their open arms.
He understands it all so well. Oh, yes, we were all teary, but we knew he'd have a marvelous time setting everything to order. A terrier needs a job, and there was plenty to do. David would be taking an epic motorcycle ride to Nova Scotia; Mary Jane would need extra company and kisses, and we all know who's best at that.

Good bye, Mether, Phoebe and Liam. I will be fine here. You all have fun, and I will, too.