Yên Bái Summer weather arrived this weekend – ninety degree days – and with it, an astonishing ascension of complexity in the life around me. In April solitary individuals would break the stillness – “What is that bird? Where is he? Let me figure it out.” – but now the forest is never silent, all kinds of birds and insects (and frogs, very loud) making a constant chatter. Thrushes, chickadees, woodpeckers, and owls are the main components, but I can’t tell anymore. There are many more sounds and silhouettes than I can identify.
Mexicali The insects have emerged as well. The most obvious are the ants – there is hardly a rock here that does not have its ant-nest beneath – and the flies. The first hatch of blackflies are here, alas. On Sunday evening they were merciless – I don’t remember them being so efficient in attacking – and I have a good dozen welts on my body as a result. “You haven’t really had a bugbite until you see blood trickling” is their motto.
The trilliums are all in bloom, and the deer have not yet migrated to the uplands (I have not seen one yet this spring anywhere but on the valley-floor), so they have not yet been eaten. The yellow adder’s tongues are about done, but the wood anemones are still flowering, and there are a few mayflowers – Maianthemum Canadense – a species I have all over my property but never recognized before. Dog-hobbles and apples also in bloom, and in the valley, the first cherries.
The turkeys have been using my front lawn as a morning point d’assignation, with the males displaying and gobbling while the females ate all the grass seed I had laid out. The females always seemed terribly unimpressed, but there are enough turkeys in the woods, so it does seem to work out in the end.
Post a Comment