Each night, just before I slip into bed, I listen through the closed window in our bedroom to a western screech owl’s call, sometimes likened to a ball bouncing and coming to a stop, since the hoots at the end of the call are in closer succession than those at the beginning. A western screech owl got me my job at the Museum of Natural History when I was a graduate student.
We’ve also had a visiting red-breasted sapsucker. Well, he might be a resident, but, if he is, he’s only recently taken to hammering on stop signs. We’ve caught him tapping on nearby signs two or three days this week. I haven’t yet managed to get his picture, since I often have a rather loud three-foot-tall human with me.
Today, as Sylvan, Elena, and I ate lunch at Mt. Pisgah, a hummingbird thought Sylvan might be a nice, bright yellow flower. It motored over and hovered two feet in front of Sylvan before realizing its mistake.
Following are some photos Sylvan took at Mt. Pisgah. I hadn’t noticed the lacy shadow pattern, but Sylvan caught it with the camera.
Meadowrue
We had a great time at Pisgah, staying for longer than we intended. Sylvan threw rocks into the river for a while (fun for anyone, but physically impossible to resist for those with both an X and a Y chromosome). He also handed some to me, requesting that I throw them in.
“Here, Mom, throw in this one that looks like a piece of pizza.” Splash.
S: “Here’s one for you. It’s an aklak.”
J: “A what?”
S: “An aklak. All of them can be shaped like aklaks.” (This word evolved over the course of our rock-tossing time.)
Ker-plunk.
S: “Here, Mom, throw in this one that looks like poop.”
Laughter, first from me, then from Sylvan. Cylindrical, tapered at the ends. Yup.
Sylvan with an aklak