Spring in the Jungle...

The nest is made, and the eggs are laid,

but now the brood is hungry...

Loggerhead shrike peers intently from its perch in the maple, 

ready to pounce at the slightest sign of prey in the field below.

Gone are the lazy days of winter, 

with merely one mouth to feed, 

or a shrub or two to defend from your rival. 

Now has begun the life or death business of feeding the family.

Northern mockingbird is on the hunt as well, 

perched atop a nearby bush,

while house finch pauses, 

pensive, 

in the shadows below.

Feeder is freshly filled, 

but a full feeder attracts the competition as well.

Sunshine and blue skies

only barely the jungle disguise...

Tent Caterpillars; Weaving the Web of Life

Along about the ides of March, the first small "tents" appear, pitched among the forked lower branches of the silver-skinned wild cherry at the corner of the vacant lot next door. And with their appearance, we know that Spring is here. Sure, there will be another cold night or two, possibly even another frost, but remarkably, every year, the hordes of hairy caterpillars seem to pitch camp at just the right time.

And "just the right time" is that moment when the cherry trees don the tiniest hint of green. Over many a millennium, the moth and the tree have reached an understanding...

the young moths can gorge themselves on the first crop of tender greens, but they must eat quickly and satisfy their hunger before the deciduous trees have lost their springtime impulse to re-foliate, or the trees will eventually suffer and die, depriving future moth generations of their ideal food source.

Judging from the numbers, size and beauty of this year's caterpillar clan,

and the healthy stand of wild cherries populating the wood's edge,
the arrangement seems to working out pretty well for all concerned...

This year's encampment is a couple or three weeks old, and many of the caterpillars seem to have reached near maximal girth, but a few youngsters are still arriving in camp.

There's a chill wind blowing this mid-April afternoon, so tonight the leaf-chomping cats will cozy up for warmth in their silken shelters, 

only to emerge on the morrow for more feasting among the cherries.

So strong is the urge to eat that little escapes their relentless jaws, right down to the lovely cherry blossoms themselves.

Branch by branch, up the trunk they roam,

and when the last leaf on the present limb is gone, the tender shoots of the twining vines of poison ivy and Virginia creeper are fair game too!

As the sun sets on another day,
Spring offers a little reminder to all who will heed...

in the intricate ivory curves of the cherry blossom, 

which will nourish the pollinators for a few more weeks yet,

and eventually yield a bounty of nutritious treats this summer 

for all manner of birds and other critters;

and the rich palette of colors and textures that are the nascent moths of the tent caterpillar clan,
converting the verdant new growth of the black cherry tree into creepy crawly vittles for birds and turtles and fish, et al.

What a privilege to witness this age-old drama unfold again this year on a chilly April afternoon in the heart of Carolina,
renewing our awareness of the intricacy and beauty of the delicate web of life that we all share.

Trees Abloom

For months, the limbs are bare. 

Red-shouldered hawk sticks to the noonday shadows near the trunk of the gnarly oak, 

lest its aquiline silhouette scatter the foraging squirrels below.

Nearby, however, maple breaks ranks with her bare-branched kin; 

at long last, a tree abloom! 

Weeks before the cone-bearers release their clouds of golden dust, 

their deciduous neighbors discreetly erupt in a silent explosion of reds and yellows. 

These intricate organs, attended largely by equally inconspicuous pollinators, 

will bear an abundance of winged seeds a few weeks hence;

for now, however, 

they're content to color the leafless shore with their subtle hues,

their true splendor lost on all but the most careful and curious watchers,

here at the brink of spring...

Farther along the way, a favorite patch of wild chickasaw plums prepares the way for a late May feast at nature's table,

abundant tiny blossoms bursting forth,

each a potential plum, 

soon to be plucked by other clever inhabitants of this sandy spot just beyond the shade of the long leaf pines,

but simply eye candy for now, 

a lovely libation for the keen-eyed few who pause to drink them in...

The vines have awakened as well, 

the woody cords and weathered leaves of native Carolina jessamine, 

Gelsemium sempervirens, 

now adorned by spectacular golden trumpets,

declaring unequivocally the advent of spring,

bearing priceless gifts,

free for all who will but pause to partake of the bounty...

The Tree and the Air That We Breathe

The massive old trunk has been rooted right here in this spot for some eighty years, maybe more. Liquidambar styraciflua, sweet gum. 

So named by humans for the "liquid amber" which flows from its flesh when wounded, early European visitors to North America spoke of the sap's pleasing aroma when burned, and it has long been a commercially important timber species.

But today, standing here in silent communion with this magnificent individual, 

we ponder the sweet gum as a fellow living being, 

child of a shared Creator;

a healthy, mature deciduous tree in its prime, 

awakening, as it were, from a long winter's nap.

A profusion of blossoms;

hundreds of delicate snowball clusters,

fertile, alive, beautiful!

Each flower cluster attended by a tiny dangling "gum ball", 

repository for fifty or more tiny tree seeds,

part of this year's crop of thousands,

most of which will become food for fellow creatures, 

a few of which might someday take root in the soil below and become tiny saplings,

and then,

...who knows...

And don't forget the leaves, 

tender, gloriously green stars,

dancing in the brisk spring breeze, 

as though to break free from their terrestrial tethers and ascend, 

swirling gaily, 

straight up into the bright blue heavens above.

And as we stand in wonder before this complex and beautiful organism, 

we breath a silent prayer of gratitude,

for life, and beauty, and the very air we breathe,

and for this amazing creature,

whose dancing leaves of green renew the depleted air,
making possible our next life-giving breath...

Spring Is In the Air - Enraptured Raptors

We returned to San Lee Park on a gorgeous late winter morn to check on the progress of the early-blooming native wildflowers;

we found the trout lily colonies exploding, and a few more liverwort in bloom, 

but few other species blooming just yet. 

As we made our way back toward the dam, we wandered from the path for a closer look at a red-shouldered hawk calling from just up the ridge.

Perched high in a majestic oak, her rusty breast glowed like smoldering embers against the brilliant blue sky above.  

As we stealthily switched to a longer lens, the solitary female was joined by an apparent suitor; 

with muted vocalizations and very little in the way of pleasantries,

the pair proceeded with their ancient rite of spring.

Historically, red-shouldered hawks may have been the predominant species of hawk in this area, but over the past century, they've been supplanted by the red-tailed hawk throughout much of our region. Most of this shift is associated with habitat loss; the red-shouldered hawk prefers mature forest with an open understory and ready access to water, and much of this habitat has been lost to agriculture and other forms of human development.

Fortunately for the hawks and for us, Lee County is still home to a decent amount of habitat suitable for the red-shouldered raptors. We're aware of at least four or five red-shouldered pairs around town; three in area parks, and one in a wooded residential development built around a substantial stream.

Nature is resilient, and never fails to amaze and astonish us, particularly in those few remaining places where human development has been limited. 

Here on the wooded ridge, overlooking the stream-fed lake below, we experience yet another of those moments; glad that someone who came before us had the foresight to conserve and protect this little hundred-acre wood, and determined to do our part to ensure that it remains protected.

For the hawks and their progeny, and for us and ours...

Flowers in the Forest , Wonderful Words of Life...

All our various and sundry ramblings here at Hoot Owl Karma could be interpreted as attempts to express our gratitude for life; 

life, as it exists in the natural world;

life, in all its amazing and wonderful iterations;

life, a mysterious and priceless gift, 

source of beauty and joy and wonder and hope...

Life reasserts itself in the early spring forest, as tender new leaves of freshest green 

suddenly appear among acres of accumulated castaways, all lifeless and brown;

miraculously arising early of a frosty morn,

offshoot of rhizomes no longer latent, 

and joined no less quickly by a bud-bearing stalk, 

eager to expose its single golden blossom.

And not a moment too soon, it blooms,

as the winged pollinator appears right on cue,

flying from shadowy nook to sun-kissed cranny, 

sharing golden grains of pollen among the many members of this lovely forest-dwelling clan.

And we bear witness, 

long-lost children of the forest ourselves;

greeting the morning sun with our old friends Hepatica and Erythronium,
here beneath the towering canopy of the trees;

though our steps so seldom tread these shadowy recesses of our not-too-distant past,

we often find ourselves fumbling for just the right words

to express the emotions these moments evoke...

and when,
or if, 

we find the words,

chances are good they're nothing new or original.

But rather, familiar words for a while forgotten, 

and just now remembered...

Words resurrected from childhood adventures in the neighbor's wood, 

and the marvelous tales they spawned, or

Words, perhaps, from a favorite hymn, residing seldom-sung somewhere near your heart,

"Sing them over again to me, wonderful words of life;
Let me more of their beauty see, wonderful words of life;
Words of life and beauty, teach me faith and duty;
Beautiful words, wonderful words, wonderful words of life..."

Wonderful words of life, and our precious place in it,
pondered in the silence of the forest path,
poised on the cusp of another spring...