nature

Near the end of our visit to Picnic in the Park, I noticed a tree in the northeast corner of the park with this fungus of some sort growing on it. Rather interesting shape and texture.

Sitting on her clutch of eggs, a mother goose is doing her best to keep a low profile while keeping a wary eye out for predators -- and photographers.

If only for a short time, this wetland tract is where "momma" and her brood will call home.

Three of the five hatchlings. 

Three of the five youngsters are barely visible, yet mom & dad manage to stay fore and aft of the entire brood.

Young and vulnerable, the goslings are totally dependant on their parents for protection. And with numerous predators found throughout the various types of habitat in the wetland, there is much to protect these fuzzy youngsters from.

When Oak Orchard Creek spills its banks, such as it did this spring, northern pike find their way into the marshes and deeper pools, such as the one above. Toothy northerns have, on occasion, been known to take young waterfowl.

Aquatic predators, like mink, make their home here, not to mention danger from above in the form of hawks and owls. 

Flooded timber can be enchanting, yet full of peril for young waterfowl.

This is a likely place to encounter snapping turtles or a marauding raccoon.

For these goslings, everything must seem larger than life...and perhaps a bit overwhelming at times. Maybe that's the reason for this youngster's perplexed look.

This youngster seems to be making sure all siblings are present and accounted for!

While there are numerous predators that live in and around the wetlands, there are neighbors that bring no cause for alarm...such as these painted turtles.

Or a cardinal in the cottonwood.

Even an eastern swallowtail.

With all the distractions, sometimes mom or dad needs to crack the whip! Here she's seen hissing, as if to say, "get back in line."

All things considered, at the end of the day the best place for a gosling is directly below the protection of mom's down feathers.

While there has always been a good number of gray squirrels nearby, this is one of the few fox squirrels I recall seeing near our home. That bushy tail may be one of the reasons behind their name.

About one and a half times the size of a gray, the fox squirrel is North America's largest. Here it's feasting on last year's box elder seeds.

Like the gray and red squirrel, the fox squirrel's color phase may vary from region to region.

Adding to its ample girth.

Smaller than both the fox and gray, the red squirrel, above, seems to be the feistiest of the three, particulary when defending its territory.

Here it's easy to see where the red got its name.   

The entire time I watched, this red seemed preoccupied in one of walnut trees growing along the north border of our property.

Here again, the red tends to a walnut tree. It seemed to concentrate on forks in the tree, perhaps enhancing future buds. Whatever, the red squirrels have established themselves in the area around the six walnut trees that are clustered into a small area. The gray squirrels, meanwhile, have been relegated to the hickory and oak trees back near the creek.

This pileated woodpecker gave me ample opportunity to try out our new camera. For half an hour or more it made two large cavities in a young cottonwood, one of seven within a stone's throw of the house. Whenever they visit they tend to ignore the huge cottonwood as well as the walnut, hickory, white ash and maple trees, instead focusing their attention on the young cottonwoods -- smoother bark, easier to penetrate, is my guess.

As you can tell from the photo sequence, the pileated's rountine was to pound away for a bit before tilting its head back as if to inspect its work, sometimes probing around inside the fresh excavation or even repositioning itself before renewing its efforts.

When it was time to leave it flew across our property, over the tops of our neighbor's woods, performing its trademark "swoop and dip" on the fly.

These snow-covered spruce trees are nice to look at, and for me, they certainly help to bring on the Christmas spirit - and probably the end of my hunting season. While there are yet several days remaining in the deer season, it almost seems like opening day was a long time ago....and not a snowflake in sight. And that was only two weeks ago.

6:30 a.m. November 20th, hunkered down in a beech woods.

an overhead view a few minutes later....and just a bit more light.

It wasn't that long of a wait.

As the sun began to climb I couldn't help thinking how much I enjoyed carving my initials into the smooth gray bark of beech trees when I was a young man.....in those early years I probably wouldn't have allowed a good buck to sneak in undetected like I did on this day. I missed the deer, hitting an ironwood tree instead.

This is my nephew Regan. A polite young fellow, I believe he's stifling a laugh regarding his uncle's marksmanship.

The Bartz brothers and D.J. plot a strategy for the p.m. hunt. 

Most of the people in this article - myself excluded - are still hunting when time permits. And they probably will until the season ends. Mine already has. Time to think Christmas!

The above photo of the Tonawanda was taken about two weeks ago. While the foliage was still evident, there have been significant changes since.

Facing south from the creek bank at the rear of our place.

It's still early and a good morning to drive into southern Genesee and hopefully get a few pics of the Little Tonawanda and the surrounding countryside.

This is the Little T and 55 years ago wading barefoot and catching crayfish below that little riffle was great sport!

This redtail is eyeing me warily.

The falls on the Little T where it flows through Linden.

Though conifers - yet obviously not an evergreen - these larch stand out in contrast against the wooded hills.

The sun was climbing and so was the temperature...it was time to go home and do a little pike fishing behind the house.

Biking, canoeing, kayaking, cross-country skiing and mountaineering. To one extent or another, all the Marchese brothers -- Dave, Tom, Russ and Bob -- partook of these activities. It was 1995, after brother Dave invited his three siblings on a backpacking trip, when they first had a go at hiking up a mountain. 

"We hiked into Johns Brook Valley and camped at Bushnell Falls," said Bob Marchese. "The next day we climbed Mount Haystack in the rain and fog. At times you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. Mt. Haystack (elev. 4960 ft.) was the first high peak for Russ, Tom and me."

Left to right are Tom, Bob, Russ and Dave.

Despite the weather on their first climb back in 1995, the Marchese brothers began frequenting the high peaks when time permitted.

"Nearly 10 years passed before it entered our minds to climb the "trailess" peaks," said Bob, "and go for the '46.'"

Bob informed me there are basically two types of trails on the "46er" mountains -- those maintained with marked trails and those that are "trailess." The latter term at times implies nothing less than a pure bushwhack. The above photo shows the group preparing to scale a cleft in the rocky mountainside.

This photo was taken while descending Whiteface Mountain In the center of the pic and off in the distance is Mount Esther. Weeks later, upon reaching the summit of Esther, the Marchese brothers would have fulfilled their quest, thereby attaining membership in the AKD 46er's. 

Fifteen years after climbing Mt. Haystack, Dave, Tom, Russ and Bob Marchese stand atop Mt. Esther......46er's at last.

"It was a combination of jubilation and relief," said Bob. At their feet, atop Mt. Esther, is a plaque set in the rock by the Adirondack forty-sixers. In a bit of irony, just before the above and below photos were taken, friend and frequent hiking companion Eric Wohlers called their attention to the time -- the Marchese brothers had become 46er's at exactly 4:46 pm.

The plaque was set in place in honor of Esther McComb who in 1839, at the age of 15,  attempted to climb Whiteface Mountain from the north. In the process she became lost and thus made the first recorded ascent of the mountain so named for her.  

That's Eric Wohlers behind the Marchese brothers. Though he had climbed Mt. Esther a month earlier, he joined his friends for their celebratory climb.  

Bob Marchese, pictured above, has climbed many a high peak with his own family. Said Bob,  "My wife, Terri, and I climbed some peaks with our kids when they were little. When they were 2 and 3 years old we put them in kiddie carriers, backpacks made to carry small children. Today my daughter Olivia wants to be a "46er."  

Bob with Olivia. An aspiring 46er, Olivia accompanied her dad on numerous high peak climbs this summer.

Only 13 years old, and already an even dozen high peaks to her credit, Olivia seems certain to keep the family tradition alive -- not only sharing in the common bond of those who have climbed the Adirondack high peaks, but helping promote safe hiking and the preservation of the wilderness for future generations. And to Bob, Russ, Tom and Dave...congratulations!

Boats are moored to their slips and the first tints of autumn are seen along the banks of Oak Orchard Creek. It was a great day to be outdoors. However, before we motored upstream, we began the morning on Lake Ontario.

John Lawrence, in back, Mike Ficarella in foreground, enjoying a balmy day. We're about two miles west of Point Breeze, off Lakeside Beach State Park.

That's the Somerset smokestack...... its actually located a short distance offshore, located around the point to the right and down the shoreline a few miles. Back in May I posted a photo of the smokestack as seen from Wheeler's horse farm on top of Molasses Hill in Wyoming County.

A gobi decided to make a meal of Mike's wobbling spoon.

A non-native species, this is a closeup of the gobi.

Out on the lake the wind began to pick up so John opted to motor up the creek.

John removing the weeds from his flatfish.

Heron scanning the creek while perched high in a tree.

Mute swan preening.

Turkey vulture swoops in for a closer look.

A bend in the river.

Another heron, this one doing its hunting closer to the water.

Soon it was time to head back downstream and lunch at the Black North Inn. Thanks John, for a great day!

Limited to working Saturdays, we began the construction of the cabin in late July. First we needed to make inroads through a tangle of dogwood thickets, sumac and wild grape vine until we reached what we felt was a suitable building site. Then we needed to make a clearing. Axes, chain saws, weedeaters and loppers were employed those first few outings. After that it was time to build the foundation, then cut logs - mostly maple but a few red pine - and haul them  to the work area. Most cutting was done within a hundred and fifty yards of the cabin, but when the tractor broke down, carrying them made it seem so much farther. The logs were then notched by hand and chinked with mortar. Above the logs rough cut cherry was used.

The cabin was completed a week ago, situated in the clearing from which the red maples and cottonwoods tower above the dog thicket. Deeper into the property, beyond the thickets, are the mature hardwoods, filled with hickory, oak and more maple. Directly north and east property are massive fields filled with either corn or soy beans and the whitetails who feed on them are here in prolific number. Some of my favorite waterfowling grounds are in close proximity as is the Alabama swamp.

While sitting around the campfire last Friday, I looked up into the night sky. Despite the fire's glow, the stars were incredible. To the north was Cassiopeia, the North star and, directly overhead, a spiral arm of the Milky Way. 

In a few weeks, a couple of long bows will be hanging from the cabin wall,  quivers filled with arrows, and a lake plain woodlot filled with adventure yet to come. But about ten p.m. last Friday evening I wasn't thinking so much about the upcoming hunting season. Sure, I'm looking forward to glimpsing antlers darting through the thickets, the cry of honkers and ducks on the wing, but  looking at the stars, that signature handiwork high overhead, I couldn't help thinking about what really  matters most - and Who is really in charge.

Was it yesterdays rain which brought out the first of our rose of Sharon blooms this morning - or the heat from the previous five days?

Mid to late summer bloomers, rose of Sharon provide color after many flowers have long since faded.

This young Norway spruce, laden with dew, enjoys the soft light of early morning.

This is "Meany" the red squirrel. I mentioned him a few months back - he's the little guy who harrasses all the gray squirrels. Though much smaller than its cousin, the red squirrel displays the feistiness of a weasel when dealing with the grays.

A young catbird situates itself between the trunks of an aged hickory.

A soiled beak may be an indication the catbird was feeding in the leafy debris between the tree trunks. All things considered - plants and animals - everything is no doubt refreshed after yesterdays soaker!

While local stream levels were a bit high last week and the water discolored due to recent rain, there were ample photo opportunitites along the creek banks.

A gosling cluster out for a swim....note the lone goose on the bank high to the right.

Here they're about to exit the creek.

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Yellow flag wild iris blooms are numerous this time of year

while the blue flag is less prolific.

A fern glade extends to the creek bank

A decaying stump wearing Virginia creeper as a hat

Feeding time

Despite the roily water and overcast sky it was  a good day on the creek!

Over the last several months, I've been spending some of my free time exploring Batavia. Not just walking along the side of the road, but finding trails and paths that are relatively untraveled and unknown for the most part. As of late, my exploring and roots in technology have lead me to the OpenStreetMap (OSM) project.

My latest cellphone features a built-in GPS radio and a 5MP camera. Earlier today (yesterday), I went out and mapped part of an abandoned railroad track that was previously owned by Conrail for the OSM project. The tracks were removed long ago and if it weren't for still being listed as part of the Conrail railroad on several mapping services, there would be no way to know otherwise. Eventually, the trail intersects with the Conrail tracks that are still presently used (the tracks that go under part of Rt. 5, intersect with Seven Springs Road/Rt. 63, etc).

While I was out, I took (geotagged) pictures. I've chucked them all into a Picasa album ingeniously labeled "Batavia". Do keep in mind that this isn't the first time I've been out to this location. Most of the pictures in the album were taken in the same general area and the geotags will reflect this. When looking at an album/picture, Picasa shows a terrain view map in the bottom-right corner of the page with a mark point showing the GPS location(s) of the picture(s) being looked at. 

Some of the better pictures are shown after the jump.

We had a rare - if not unique - visitor behind the house late Thursday afternoon. It was a cormorant, a diving, fish-eating water bird, common to open water such as Lake Ontario or the waters along the Atlantic shoreline. This was the first time I've seen one on the Tonawanda.

Note the hooked bill, a big help in taking fish. The cormorant is an excellent diver, diving to depths from five to twenty-five feet for a minute or more.

The cormorant is a great fish-catcher, so good in fact, it is the bane of charter boat captains and fishermen on Lake Ontario's eastern basin.

The cormorants wings are not fully water proofed and here it spreads them to dry. 

This particular cormorant was a willing subject, not only staying put for several photos, but displaying as well.

The cormorant obviously had dining plans when it made its Tonawanda stop over. Whether it had any luck I couldn't say.      

Early morning angler tries his luck on the Point Breeze jetty.

Point Breeze Lighthouse....still under construction

Doug Harloff enticing crappies from below overhangs.

Mother goose on a shoreline nest....

while her mate keeps a lookout.

A painted turtle suns itself....

and a Black Crowned Night Heron hides amid branches.

A mute swan dabbling for food.

While the swans are graceful in appearance......

this Canada goose learns how territorial they can be!

One of the "Twin Bridges", a name for the area in a bygone era.

Seagull enclave on the breakwall.

We are about to have our catch inspected.

Monitoring 30 inlets from the Niagara River to Henderson Harbor, this team checks out the number of fish caught, size, species, etc. It was a good morning on the creek, time to head for the Black North Inn for lunch!

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The turkey pictured above is roosted in a cottonwood tree normally patrolled by a little red squirrel we call "Meany," so named because he routinely harrasses the much larger gray squirrels. Photo was taken Tuesday afternoon. The turkey had a companion in a neighboring ash tree seen in photo below.

This turkey is looking at the camera.  Still no sign of Meany, and while he remained out of sight, a pair of gray squirrels thought it a good time to drop by.

Checking to see if the coast is clear.....

Eyeing up the remains of last fall's apple crop...

Apparently not bad!

Lilies are the traditional Easter symbol but we couldn't find any - at least not growing outdoors presently. Claudia and I found these crocus' growing on Lockport Road in the town of Elba. According to the owner, the bulbs were planted more than fifty years ago. Still a  welcome sight on Resurrection Sunday.