If you are on the road for travel this holiday – be on the watch for birds of prey. With the leaves off of the trees, it is easy to spot the hawks sitting high watching for prey in open fields or along the roadside.
Last week I drove from our home to my hometown in
The hawks prey includes smaller birds – sparrows, American Robins, starlings, and doves to name a few. The size of the prey depends on the size of the hawk doing the hunting. Hawks will also eat rodents – chipmunks, tree squirrels, and mice. Just the other day I was standing near our new bird feeder and thinking about the circle of life it represents. Around the post at the ground I saw sunflower seedlings beginning to sprout – I knew they would not make it since it is December. But, in the spring we just might see a sunflower or two from the dropped seeds. Those seedlings are choice food for slugs, snails, and chipmunks. Just as the birds, chipmunks, and squirrels love to eat the seeds and maybe even the seedlings of the sunflowers – the feeder is feeding another creature – the predator. Hawks love backyard bird feeders. The feeder brings out the smaller birds and rodents. Hawks sit on their high perch watching and waiting. When the right time happens, they swoop down and grab their prey and take it off to another perch. Think about it – most of the backyard feeders are placed where we (people) can get a good view of the birds. If we are getting a good view – so is the hawk. When I toss out old carrots, apples, and such for the bunnies, chipmunks, deer, and what ever else happens by, I toss th em near the edge of the woods thinking I am giving the animals a bit of a chance with some "cover." The food chain of the backyard feeder – seeds can become seedlings, then plants or food for animals – the birds and rodents can eat seeds or plants or become food for the hawks.
As we traveled across most of 4 states, I saw 5 hawks – a couple in flight. If those had been perched, I may not have noticed them. If you ever drive on Interstate 85 north of
We hear so much about the drought locally. The drought reaches to
I did not stop to take photos of any of this. I did take photos while on the short trip.
I traveled to the property my grandparent's home is on and the property where my great-great grandparents home once stood. The only thing at the old homeplace now is the ruins of the kitchen. Near these ruins there would be many daffodils blooming in the early spring and a nice little patch of asparagus. The property is very familiar to me and yet very different. I remember the trails and the way down the hill to the lake. Where my granddaddy's garden once grew there are many small trees – it does not look like a garden was ever there. The old well where I used to get a cold drink on a hot day is gone. My grandmother had the w ell filled in – she was worried that someone would allow their children to roam free on the property. I remember one day standing in the little well house, getting a drink from the bucket. I looked up and saw a huge black snake lying on the ledge near the roof. I remember my grandfather plowing the garden by himself, by hand. He would grow tomatoes, beans, corn, peppers, turnips, cucumbers and squash. I would stand in the garden and pick cherry tomatoes from the plants – they were delicious.
My grandfather's bean poles are left leaning against the old pear tree. The tree looks like it has not had a pear on it for years. The bean poles have not been used for years either. The fence he had surrounding the garden area is falling down and green with moss and lichens. I see the gate left open and remember the time the horse cut the corner at the gate a little sharply and a nail scraped my leg as I rode through it. The old stable area is quiet, but it looks like something is using it for a home. There is a hole chewed in the back wall and a place dug under a board. The hen house is dark and silent. The old apple and persimmon trees look like the pear tree – a long time since anything grew on them. Here and there you can see old stobs of small trees that a beaver has cut off and taken away to help build its dam. I remember seeing the beavers slap their tails on the water as a warning when my grandfather and I would walk down the hill.
As my aunt and I continue our walk, we head down the path to the lake. I remember going down this path with my grandfather many times. I remember him pointing out the chinquapin bush to me as we would pass. He and I would fish there many days. He would tell me that if I dug the worms, he would take me down the hill to fish. I gladly dug the worms. He always baited my hook. In a stump, down near the water, there is a roll of barbed wire. My grandfather must have left it there many years ago. The water level in this lake is a little low.
