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Sunday, April 23rd, 2006 08:45 pmWord of the day: samara, A dry, indehiscent, winged, often one-seeded fruit, as of the ash, elm, or maple. Also called key fruit.
If you had walked through my neighborhood on Friday, you would have been showered with samaras. I love the sound the littlest ones make as they go skittering across someone's roof. Today everything was too sopping wet for successful skittering, so samaras just got mashed underfoot along with old cherry blossoms, leaves, and grass cuttings.
~~~
Scientific name of the American robin: Turdus migratorius. Taxonomists can be cruel.
The robin nesting in the tree outside my window has been brooding all weekend, in the original sense where "brood" means "sitting on a clutch of eggs trying to make them hatch." Sometimes her mate came by, and sometimes it was hard to tell if his intention was to bring her food or to annoy her. I think they traded places for a while, though, with him in the nest while she flew out to hunt for worms. I imagine if you are stuck in a nest all day, those rare moments when you get the chance to fly must feel wonderful.
But I think a crow got to the nest today. I'm not sure--the foliage is thick enough now that it was hard to see what was going on. At the time, the crow was the only bird I saw. Maybe the mama robin chased the bigger bird away while remaining hidden to me. I doubt it, though, since the crow wasn't moving away all that quickly. Even if the eggs are somehow still intact, chances are that some other crow or a raccoon or a squirrel will get them later. Robins have many predators, some of which are among my favorite critters. Given the choice, I wouldn't deprive the crows of food even if it meant robin eggs were destroyed. Still, I didn't want it to happen to the nest I was watching. That's the problem when you're a lover of nature: someone you love will be eaten.
Speaking of which, I think I ate too much chicken at lunch.
If you had walked through my neighborhood on Friday, you would have been showered with samaras. I love the sound the littlest ones make as they go skittering across someone's roof. Today everything was too sopping wet for successful skittering, so samaras just got mashed underfoot along with old cherry blossoms, leaves, and grass cuttings.
~~~
Scientific name of the American robin: Turdus migratorius. Taxonomists can be cruel.
The robin nesting in the tree outside my window has been brooding all weekend, in the original sense where "brood" means "sitting on a clutch of eggs trying to make them hatch." Sometimes her mate came by, and sometimes it was hard to tell if his intention was to bring her food or to annoy her. I think they traded places for a while, though, with him in the nest while she flew out to hunt for worms. I imagine if you are stuck in a nest all day, those rare moments when you get the chance to fly must feel wonderful.
But I think a crow got to the nest today. I'm not sure--the foliage is thick enough now that it was hard to see what was going on. At the time, the crow was the only bird I saw. Maybe the mama robin chased the bigger bird away while remaining hidden to me. I doubt it, though, since the crow wasn't moving away all that quickly. Even if the eggs are somehow still intact, chances are that some other crow or a raccoon or a squirrel will get them later. Robins have many predators, some of which are among my favorite critters. Given the choice, I wouldn't deprive the crows of food even if it meant robin eggs were destroyed. Still, I didn't want it to happen to the nest I was watching. That's the problem when you're a lover of nature: someone you love will be eaten.
Speaking of which, I think I ate too much chicken at lunch.
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