Moving In

Day 199: Warm days prompted a significant uptick in swallow activity, and the pair who had been considering the House of Chirp as a suitable place for their young signed the lease and immediately began moving in their furnishings. Both the male and female Tree Swallows (Tachycineta bicolor) have been gathering dried grass and a few white feathers, and placing them inside. At this point, I have only seen the female (duller in colour) enter the box, and am assuming that the actual construction of the nest is her domain. Half a dozen small paperwasp nests were in the eave above the House and, not quite trusting that they were unoccupied, I took a long piece of PVC pipe to knock them down, keeping in mind that I might need to make a quick retreat. Fortunately, the wasps were absent, but this is something I must watch for every year to be sure there are no permanent installations. I must keep my renters safe and happy to ensure their return next year.

Opening Day

Day 198: The moment for which I have been waiting these last two weeks has finally arrived. The Fawn Lily was not open when I first checked before breakfast, but looked suspiciously close to bursting. At 9 AM, the petals were fully recurved and in full glory. A second bulb has put up a single leaf. I was worried that it might not have survived. Even if it doesn't flower, it will gain strength from that one leaf, and will likely bloom next year. I'm chalking this delicate transplanting operation up as a horticultural success. While we're on that subject, I'm pleased to announce that the last two contorted filbert twigs I soil-layered are also doing well. So is the wild ginger brought over from a neighbouring property. In fact, the latter is spreading with great enthusiasm, a fact which delights me no end.

Fair Socks

Day 197: The Washington State Fair (aka the Puyallup Fair) isn't until September, but I am hard at work on several entries for the "Textiles-Spinning" division including these socks. Yes, that's handspun, a blend of Merino wool and bamboo fiber: silky-soft and durable, and if you think the colour is too pink for the Crow, you'd be right on the mark. Some lucky person will be receiving these as a gift, and hopefully, they'll be accompanied by certification of prize-winning status. I've never competed in the spinning division before. I will also be submitting a full skein of fingering weight in a different colourway, and possibly even a skein of finer yarn spun on a drop spindle. All three will fall into different classes within the spinning division increasing my chances to bring home a ribbon.

Well, Dam!

Day 196: Well, dam! I went out for a little hike yesterday, hoping to find Corallorhiza trifida in any of the three locations where I know it to occur. Last year, my botany partners and I failed to locate any, although we admit that we might have come too late upon the scene. Based on my phenological records, it springs up at some point in late April through late May, so I thought to get an early start, knowing full well that I might come home disappointed. As I feared, I was too early, so I set a different goal: visit Secret Falls in its niche just off the Westside Road. However, I experienced another disappointment there. The falls was nearly dry, with just a trickle coming down the cleft in the rock, although the plunge pool (with hardly the volume of a standard bathtub) was full. That said, with plenty of snow feeding its source and record-breaking high temperatures in the forecast for the next two days, it will undoubtedly be flowing more vigorously soon. The only real success story of the day (not counting removal of illegally-planted "memorial" flowers in a site I've been monitoring for several years) was a visit to the old dam above Sunshine Point campground. There are bits of history tucked away in our Park if you know where to look! And because in all, I had a nice walk of roughly five miles, the day wasn't a total bust.

Group Hyacinths

Day 195: Grape Hyacinths (Muscari) are surely one of the most rewarding and trouble-free colour accents for the spring garden. They grow from small bulbs which multiply rapidly, and while they do spread, they do not do so in the obnoxious manner for which wood-hyacinths such as Scilla (Spanish bluebells) and Hyacinthoides (English bluebells) are famous. Indeed, the Muscari are so tidy in their habit that I laughingly call them "Group Hyacinths," clustering in tightly packed conversational units and keeping to themselves. That said, once established, they are virtually perpetual, the larger bulbs forming dozens more tiny to microscopic bulblets, each capable of producing foliage and flowers within a year or two. It is hopeless to try to dig them out, but who would want to do so? Plant them and enjoy!

Going Head-To-Head

Day 194: The sudden spring influx of birds finds the sparrows going head-to-head for seed and, if at first glance you assumed these two were the same species, look again. Notice that the one on the left is wearing a white bicycle helmet, whereas the one on the right has a "mohawk" hairdo, dyed yellow to demand your attention to detail. Now you've got it! Here we have a White-crowned Sparrow (Zonotrichia leucophrys) and a Golden-crowned Sparrow (Zonotrichia atricapilla), the two Sparrow species most common to my yard. The males of most Sparrow species generally have some obvious colouration which makes it possible to tell them apart. However, the females can present problems even for experienced birders. It takes a bit of practice to train the eye to look for field identification points such as eye stripes, wing bars, beak shape, leg colour, breast markings, etc., but if you keep those things in mind while watching birds in your own yard, you will soon discover that it's easier to tell LBJs and LGBs apart (birder parlance for "Little Brown Jobs" and "Little Grey Birds").

Three Bells

Day 193: What time is "three bells?" Well, that all depends on which watch it is, but if you happen to be watching the phenologic clock, three bells is most certainly Spring! Of course, if you're on a ship, it's a bit more complicated, especially in the traditional system. Three bells was rung in the night or early morning in my garden, although only yesterday, we would have had to call it "three buds." Yes, the Fritillary Lilies have opened, one of the first and most welcome displays of colour from my flower beds. Their checkerboards must surely serve chess tournaments among the faerie folk, or be hopscotch patterns for ladybugs and beetles. Perhaps if I took the first or middle watch, I could catch wee sprites at their nocturnal games when three bells is sounded.