Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
The cooing of mourning doves struck me as we went out the front door this morning.
Maybe it is just being gone for a couple days to Carlyle Lake and waking up to not hearing cooing along the lake there. Or maybe it is just the kind of morning that makes mourning doves feel alive.
Or maybe feel frisky and fruitful.
Doves are notoriously lousy nest builders and the past few days have not been kind to the reproducing of doves. Good thing they nest something like three or four times a summer.
A raspy-voiced Eurasian collared-dove landed a telephone pole by the fire station. I am beginning to wonder if we have more than one pair of them in town.
I did not see a single Canada goose or gosling around the town pond. Nor any ducks, belted kingfisher or great blue heron on either old clay pit.
I did notice the trash of a fishermen--and it is fishermen trash of empty wax worm plastic containers and blue plastic worm boxes with a drink container--and it pissed me off as usual.
May have to bring the youngest two kids back this afternoon to do some civic duty cleanup.
A lone bullfrog croaked on the east side of the south pit.
In the two days I was gone, the blossoms of the honeysuckle have died back heavily while the blossoms of the raspberries begin to dominate.
I do notice that the honeysuckle has begun to dominate the underbrush to the point where it looks like the raspberries are fewer. I am not sure that is just the way it goes with an invasive like bush honeysuckle or it has something to do with the drought last year or the wet cold spring this year.
Storm chased a rabbit that flushed along the brush on the old rail bed, now a trail, above the south pit.
Back home, as I lugged the last armful of stuff out of the car, a black squirrel loped across the street and a dove and gray squirrel scattered from below the bird feeder on our front porch.