Longwood Gardens, 2012.

The first Friday in February meant it was time once again for Longwood Garden's annual horticulture symposium… And lo, once again an internet acquaintance from Ohio was on the schedule. Road trip!

The conservatories were looking a bit more lush this time around. Then again, last year there was a foot of snow on the ground outside and this year winter hasn't really put in much of an appearance yet.

The orchids were lovely, but I was really coveting the bowls!

The Green Wall.

You could see where they were going with this, and folks in the business said it was a hot new trend, but after a couple of years this one wasn't quite there yet. It was far too dry on this day for all of the ferns and tropicals in it. Luckily it is made up of small blocks, easily replaced.

Do you think he noticed the gate crasher in the back of the lecture hall? I seemed to have been the only one pointing a camera at him...

Seriously?

Was this really necessary? On January 31st?

Okay, so the sensor was in a warm, sunny spot on my front porch. But still...

Is this cheating?

Keeping a feeder not only up during the winter but also warm enough to keep it from freezing so that a wandering western hummingbird can sugar up when she needs to? In the Mid-Atlantic? In January? Hmmm, I think it just might be... (Although she's decided she doesn't like this feeder under the heat lamp anymore.)

One does have to wonder about this Rufous Hummingbird who showed up in Goshen, New Jersey, USA, in late-October: fourteen (14) weeks ago come January 28, 2012. (Here you can just about see rufous tail feathers that make her not-a-ruby-throated. A Ruby-throated's outer tail feathers would be green.)

She's only spotted for a few minutes at a time only a few times a day at the three feeders the nature center has out. Presumably she's elsewhere most of time--someone else's feeder? A protected garden? How far away? But as she does not appear to be relying heavily on the feeders, it follows that she might be getting food another way as well.

We have had native honeysuckle blooming (albeit in very small quantities) up until the last week or so, and on balmier days winged insects are definitely out and about. (Hummer diets can consist of at least half insect protein, especially in the breeding season when there are growing young to feed.) Keyed in as you can become to hummer motion after watching them a lot, I was able to enjoy her "hawk" the nature center's meadow--swooping up from a perch to grab bugs out of the air like a wee flycatcher--the first month she was here. And her flits out from the holly and back on a (relatively speaking) balmy January 26th likely meant she was doing the same.

Best photo yet. If she'd stuck around for it. 

(Invisible hummingbird! Argh. Handheld point and shoot through glass and rain. They're hard enough to photograph when conditions are good...)

Having feeders up might be a contributing factor to her still being here and still being alive (although Rufous Hummers nest up the Pacific coast into Alaska, so they are tough little birds by nature). But since we don't really know what causes individuals of the western hummingbird species to wander so widely from their "normal" migration routes and wintering grounds in the first place (bad GPS?), or what prompts a bird to stop here and not there or when to stop (finding appropriate habitat--food, water and shelter--would probably and obviously be main factors), we can't say definitively that she remains here solely due to the feeders.

After all, none of the hundreds of ruby-throated hummers that stopped in Cape May County to fuel up during migration stuck around…

And what, exactly, constitutes "normal"? We're starting to wonder if we are within the normal winter range for this species... Above is a map snagged from eBird showing reported December to February sightings of Rufous Hummingbirds for the last ten years. Even if each square only represents one sighting/one individual and may be a near-insignificant percentage of the US's breeding population, it's still something.

One little bitty bird, so many huge questions. Ain't Nature grand?

Photographing Cats...

Can be a bit trickier when they are not asleep.

A dangling, twitching tail... Too much for any cat to resist. Sephy started this small tussle. I must say, Sable was much more tolerant than usual about having her tail pulled.

Who, us? (Only cats do affronted dignity so well.)

Let Sleeping Cats Lie.

And snap as many photos as possible while you can...

Before your subject starts to get annoyed...

Or bored...

(or really bored...)

Or distracted...

Or starts to think their person is a bit insane...

If you persevere, you are bound to get some keepers.

A sunny Sunday morning in January provided a great opportunity for some portraits of Abbott, Cassandra and Persephone.

Winter According to What?

What a weird season this is turning out to be...

As we start the second week of the new year (2012?! *gulp*), it mostly looks like winter out there. Mostly. But then you look again...

Okay, so a warm winter's day can usually coax daffodils and irises (here, invasive but lovely yellow flag) out of the ground even if it isn't in their best interests to do it.

But fennel?

And coral honeysuckle? (Native; you must get this stuff! The plants coming up through the mountain mint on the sunny south side of the nature center were even sending out new leaves.)

Blooming honeysuckle and warm spells that continue to produce flights of flying things great and small (from gnats to bats) might explain the continued presence of an immature female Rufous Hummingbird (a species well known to wander widely from its western range) in Goshen, New Jersey, USA on December 23, 2011, when this photo was taken. She made it through a 14° night and its subsequent sub-freezing day, and was still present on January 6th.

In Winter's defense, it was flurrying--snow: frozen precipitation--today, January 9th.

Halfway out of the dark...

Happy (Winter???)  Solstice!

Making an unnecessary death count...

It's that time of year... Bird feeders are up, bringing in more birds closer to buildings. Hawks are coming in to the feeders as well. (You are, after all, feeding the birds; hawks are birds too and appreciate the buffet table just as much as the songbirds.) Sunlight is shining from lower and different angles...

This inevitably leads to meetings between said birds and buildings, meetings that usually end up badly for the bird. Even when birds fly away from a window-strike, survival is not guaranteed due to the likelihood of brain injury causing eventual if not immediate death. (Consider all the recent hullabaloo about football players and traumatic brain injury, then imagine the effect of a wee little bird barreling into plate glass...)

But a window-strike death does give one an incredible opportunity to study the miracle that is a bird up close.

Please keep in mind that every native bird species is protected under the Migratory Bird Act; it is technically illegal to even possess so much as a feather of any native avian species. (Pigeons, starlings, house sparrows and domestic fowl, being non-native imports, are not covered under this law. Most parrots and their cousins require state if not federal permits to keep.)

If your domicile is subject to more-than-occasional window-strikes, first consider why. Have you removed window screens? Are your feeders close enough to the house so that birds don't build up too much speed when frightened off the feeder by a predator? Have you taken adequate measures to prevent reflection or physical impact on larger, non-screened expanses of glass? There are any number of preventative measures that may be taken to reduce injury and death caused by windows.

If you do find dead birds below your windows, considering asking your local nature center if they have a salvage permit and if they collect specimens from the public. Our local centers maintain such permits, and send specimens to the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia. By noting time, date, place and cause of death of the deceased, you can actually contribute to scientific studies and a bird's death need not be in vain.

Red-winged Blackbird, adult female.