Letterboxing in Como Park (part 2)

With three fresh stamps in my logbook, I started following directions to my fourth and final box of the day. I saved 10,000 Lakes for last because it had the most cryptic clues. It took me into parts of the park that I had never seen before. First stop was the monument above. It was conveniently located next to a restroom building, which became my second stop.

I blew my nose on some two-ply, then back to the trail. I had to duck under an intimidating barricade to access the next location. The hole in this table is beautiful in an urban-decay kind of way. It's complemented by some charming graffiti.

This structure near the park bench looks like something you might find playing Oblivion, deep in an imaginary forest, although the chain link fence gives it away. This eroded architecture looks like it must have been part of a larger building at some point. I would like to find out more about it. Does anyone know its history?

Finding this letterbox was a fun little journey, but the best surprise was what I discovered next. Tucked inside the box was a tiny "hitch hiker." These mini-letterboxes are designed to travel from one box to another, carried to new locations whenever they're discovered. I stuck this one in my pocket to drop off when I go letterboxing again. I wonder where it will end up next?

Back to nature

Nobody moved into my handmade bird house this year, but it's still providing a valuable function in our urban forest. See that big pile of morning glory vines at the corner of our backyard fence? The swallow house I built is buried underneath all that foliage!

I took this photo over a month ago, and the cluster has only grown thicker with time. This mighty bush grew from just five wimpy seedlings. It seems to be putting all its energy into bulking up the branches, producing only a handful of morning blooms. Meanwhile, all around our yard tiny morning glory plants are springing up, and burgeoning with dozens of flowers.

Modern living for urban chickens

Living in the city is nice for now, but one day I'd like to have a country hobby farm with vegetable gardens and llamas in the yard. On the other hand, why wait until the future, when I could buy the stylish 'Eglu' henhouse made by Omlet UK? It's true, raising chickens in urban and suburban yards is the sustainable-living sensation that's sweeping the nation. T3 nails the design when they describe it as "a cross between an original iMac and a Tupperware box designed by Salvador Dali."

I have to admire the design and worksmanship of this plastic product. Then again, I also like the rustic look of a traditional chicken coop made of good old wood. For my money, I'm not sure which I would prefer to have in my backyard. But would you believe the fancy-looking Eglu is actually cheaper than most of the classic prefab coops I found online?

If you're interested in reading more about the logistics of keeping chickens, see also the free Guide to Chicken Care on My Pet Chicken dot com.

Black hen on orange

Black hen on orange, originally uploaded by Crosscreek.

This is a test of the Flickr photo blogging feature. This is also a picture of a very pretty chicken.

Aphrodite Fritillary, Speyeria aphrodite

This fellow was spotted in my garden and identified by examining photos at What's That Bug. Although their example has much more striking coloration, it is unmistakably the same butterfly. Perhaps this is a difference between species in Minnesota and those found in Southeast PA?

The garden in July

The purple coneflower that my mother-in-law gave us has been attracting birds and bees. I was too slow to catch a goldfinch that landed on these flowers--the first one I have ever seen in our neighborhood--but this honeybee sat still enough for a close-up shot.

We've also had migrating butterfly visitors lately. This monarch is enjoying some nectar from a neighboring coneflower.

Phlox is flowering. White is mixed in with lavender for a pleasant contrast in blooms. I don't remember if we planted these, or if they were already here when we bought the house.

And here's the Hosta. We basically grow these things for their pretty foliage, but I really enjoy the flowers too. This is from our monster Hosta growing near the water supply on the side of our house. It just keeps getting bigger.

Garden in July part II: more bugs on flowers

Here's a better bee photo than the one I posted above.

Red Admiral butterfly, Vanessa atalanta. These guys are all over the yard right now. I took several good action shots with its proboscis flicking out. It was hard to choose just one for the blog, so I picked three. You can see how the wing color changes from Monarch orange to deep scarlet red in different lights.



A shiny green bee, Agapostemon splendens, apparently male due to the yellow abdomen. Females are brilliant blue-green over the entire body. This was the best shot I could get of the metallic head and thorax, on account of him sticking it down into our flowers.

Two rabbit tales

I have two tales to tell: one with a happy ending, and one horror story. First, a preface. There's a big hole in the yard by the side of our house leading to a basement egress window. It's around 3-4 feet square and a vertical drop of about 5-6 feet.

One day, not long ago, I looked down into this pit and spotted the little fellow that you see above. He was scared, but otherwise undamaged. I climbed down a ladder, scooped the bunny up in a towel, and deposited him back on ground level. He quickly hopped away and ate the buds off our flowers.

My wife and I talked about maybe covering the hole with something to prevent another hapless creature tumbling down the precipice. Unfortunately, we were too late to save the Hole's next victim, a rabbit corpse swarming with flies by the time we discovered it. On the bright side, if there is one, I didn't have to pick it up. By the next day it had been reduced to a skull and some bits of fluff. Two days later, it was entirely gone. The circle of life goes on!

Macaroni penguin

I was watching puffins at the Como Zoo when a child ran up to the glass and shouted, "macaroni penguins!" I thought it was a cute and clever made-up name for these birds, with their bright orange beaks and noodley eyebrows. As it turns out, macaroni penguins are not only a real animal, but "the most numerous of all the world's penguins" according to Wikipedia. Look how cute!

Spring cleaning

Image from Flickr.

Just last week we had highs below freezing, and then it went up to eighty degrees, and now it's cold and rainy. Crazy Minnesota springtime. Even though some flowers are were already pushing up a week ago, it was still too early to do any gardening or yard work without risking damage to the soil and plants. It was a great time, we decided, to open the windows and spiff up the house. It's amazing what you can do with just a bucket of hot water and dish soap.

I put the bird feeders back out in the yard to keep my bird house company. I also found one that had been left behind by the previous owner of our house. It seemed to be designed for squirrels, so I made some alterations. Then the squirrels got into it and spilled the seed all over the ground! The feeders also attracted attention from birds right away, but I haven't seen any prospective dormers checking out the house yet.

Since it's vacant, I dug up the bird house and buried it deeper, now that the ground's not so frozen. Then I filled the hole with rocks. I think it's going to stay put. I made sure to avoid the wire this time! I exposed something else that could have been another wire but which I choose to believe was a thick, uniformly yellow, root.

Letterboxing in beautiful I.G.H.

When I woke up on Saturday morning, the fog was thick as a brick. I didn't have much time, but it was too lovely out not to go letterboxing. I decided to plan a trip for the closest box I could find. This turned out to be South Valley Park in Inver Grove Heights, just south of St. Paul.

Once I found the park and headed up the trail, it quickly became my most enjoyable hike so far this year. The birds were out in force and they were loud. I saw and heard all kinds of creatures: geese, cardinals, robins, chickadees, a lone gull, and some big noisy bird that swooped overhead. I stood in one spot for just a couple of minutes and saw four or five little downy woodpeckers flitting about.

I found the hiding spot without too much trouble. The challenge was extracting the letterbox from where it was iced to the ground. This one had been discovered before by some animal and used as a chewing toy. Luckily, the contents were safe. I tried to remove a beer bottle from the ground to clean up the spot, but that one was stuck tight. Maybe the next letterboxer will take that trash out.

Bird house raising

I picked up a pack of posters by Adam Turman. They look like this (except bigger). When my chores were done for the day, I had an Andrew Jackson burning a hole in my pocket. I saw GTA San Andreas at Target, so I thought about getting that game, and punching imaginary dudes on my PS2. Instead, bought a post at Ace Hardware to hold my bird house up.

Today I learned that:

• Buying hardware piecemeal, in this case, was only somewhat cheaper than a kit.
• The advantage is that I can buy a taller pole.
• The drawback is that it's one solid ten foot pole, instead of several, smaller, pole sections.
• My Saturn coupe is just long enough to fit a ten foot pole inside, going from one corner of the trunk to the opposite corner of the dashboard.
  
• I should deactivate our home security system before I bring the pole into the back yard.
• Corollary: Next time I hear an alarm going off, I will quickly make sure it isn't mine.
  

After talking to our friendly security people, I dug a hole in our lawn. The friendly hardware expert at Ace told me to bury the post at least 18 inches into the ground, but I hit an impasse at one foot deep. I also hit a cable (don't tell my wife OK)! There was a layer of solid rock that prevented me from going any further, so I stuck the pole up and hoped for the best. I think it will be fine, as long as it isn't touched by squirrels, or rain.

Birdhouse build project complete

With my own hands, I have constructed a house for tree swallows to inhabit. I am inordinately proud of myself for this accomplishment. One piece of advice, if you use these plans to build a tree swallow birdhouse for yourself: use screws, not nails. If you use nails as your primary fastening mechnism, it is very difficult to keep everything straight. You will end up with something resembling Homer Simpson's spice rack, and you will have to pull it apart, and start over.

So, check this out. The side of the box can be opened with pivot nails, for easy cleaning. A wily predator would figure that out sooner or later, so the door is secured with a catch nail to hold it shut. What an elegant solution. Ventilation holes are drilled into the sides so the eggs don't get fried on a hot day. In the far right photo, you can see the bottom of the house, with drainage.

I hope that some pair of mating swallows will decide to make their home in this modest box. Not all the angles are exactly right, but birds shouldn't mind too much. I'll be watching for signs of occupancy. I built the house to swallow specifications, but other than that, I don't have any particular reason to believe that swallows are what I'll get. I will be happy with anything that sees fit to move in.

Red moon rising

image from Flickr

Hey astrono-nerds! Do you want to see something that is pretty cool? The next lunar eclipse is scheduled for Saturday, March 3.

In the USA, the eclipse will already be underway when the moon rises on Saturday evening [NOTE: My fans in Japan might be able to view this phenomenon at moonset]. Observing tip: Find a place with a clear view of the eastern horizon and station yourself there at sunset. As the sun goes down behind you, a red moon will rise before your eyes.

Rising moons are often reddened by clouds or pollution, but this moon will be the deep, extraordinary red only seen during a lunar eclipse.

I'm sort of interested in astronomy, but not so much in the science parts. Mostly, I just enjoy looking at the pretty pictures. Check out that Flickr page for more great astrophotography and nature shots. Better, try to be outside at moonrise on Saturday evening. It might be too overcast on account of the snow clouds they forecasted, but it's worth a shot. Look to the east.

The birds are back

photo from Flickr

My walks to work are so much more cheerful now that I'm hearing the calls of birds again. I don't mind winter so much, except for the cold, and the darkness, and the silence. Our part of the planet goes to sleep in winter. When the trees sing with a dozen different species of tiny feathered animals, it's like the world is saying, "good morning.

"The snow is still here, and there's more on the way, but it won't be cold forever. Chin up. The birds are making the best of it."

I heard a bunch of little chirping sparrows and parking-lot birds. I heard a woodpecker going "brtrtrtrtrtrt," and I think I saw it but I'm not totally sure what that thing was. I heard a flock of geese today for the first time this year, honking happily as they return from holiday. If it's good enough for the geese, it's good enough for me.

Bahamas Week part two

Our flight went without a hitch on the way from Miami to the Bahamas, and the plane landed on the island of Great Exuma after we were treated to a pretty bird's-eye view of the neighboring islands. At customs, Bahamian personnel opened and searched our luggage (which you will recall was in fact our wives' luggage due to the earlier mix-up and therefore contained exclusively women's clothing and underwear), but thankfully made no comment and waved us through.

A native islander greeted us by family name when we walked outside. It turned out that he had transported the girls to our villa when they arrived and had returned to wait for us, not knowing whether we would be coming that day or not. When he made a comment about our luggage, my dad asked him if our wives had bags when they arrived. That was a negative. It also turned out that, as is SOP with Bahamasair, they had failed to communicate with the fairer half of our party and inform them of the luggage/arrival situation.

But when we got to the villa for our happy reunion we didn't even care that our luggage was AWOL or that the quick ride cost $40, or that we were all starving and had nothing to eat, because we were in the Bahamas at last. I mixed myself a drink with the complimentary fifth of Bacardi gold and went to bed early with J.

Roosters woke me up at 0500h. the next morning and continued crowing all day long. When we got up and out of the house we discovered that February Point was Chicken Central on the island. Heidi Bond would have been in heaven down there, I'm telling you. All different types of beautifully-plumed roosters, fat hens everywhere, and at least one family scurrying around with a half dozen little juvenile chicks. Every time we walked down the street, we saw chickens tilting forward with their necks stretched out and wings held up yet tucked in and folded, dashing away from people and cars. At night we saw hens perched high up in trees and calling from their roosts:

"bukbukbukbukbukbukbukbuk buh-KAWW!!
bukbukbukbukbukbukbukbuk buh-KAWW!!"

It was a beautiful thing. Our first full day was productive. An unseasonal cold front was still blowing in from the north ("It was so cold the other day, I had to wear a jacket," our driver had exclaimed on the previous day). You know what they say about a bad day in the Bahamas better than a good day in Minnesota, but it kept us out of the water and we decided to rent a car for the day to explore the island's interior.

We headed south and mostly failed to find a beach or anything interesting, although we did see a group of wild goats in the road ("Look! deer," said my mom). It was when we drove into Georgetown that we saw a car with "RESPECT MY GANGSTER" printed in Gothic letters on the rear window. In town we bought some food at the island's one grocery store and brought it back to the villa to make ourselves some lunch. Our luggage was delivered from the airport, and I immediately shaved and applied some Old Spice, for which J. was extremely grateful.

That evening, we went to the island's "fancy" restaurant since it was out of town and we had the rental car. The maitre d' made a fuss about seating us without reservations, but reluctantly allowed us a table in the back. The room was empty except for one group in the corner, and nobody else came in for the entire time we were there. The average price for an entree was about $30, which made my parents' jaws drop open. Luckily, they accomodated my request for vegetarian meals for my wife and me, and charged us only $10 each. My dad and brother got $30 chickens and my mom ordered $25 shrimp. I also got a $3 bottle of Kelik, "the beer of the Bahamas." The label touted it as "export quality," although we wondered whether it had ever actually been exported anywhere. It was pleasantly good.

Since my parents had paid our airfare down to the island and basically covered all other costs for the week, proclaiming it to be a family vacation, I paid for the dinner that night. Paid through the nose! With my wallet still hurting, we drove back to the villa and I plunked down to read more Infinite Jest, which seemed to have an infinite number of pages remaining even as I crossed the 200 mark. The book really started coming together around page 200, and it kept getting better.

The Jest was just what I needed to keep me distracted and occupied in the times when I would normally be pounding through the intricacies of my own book-in-progress. It was hard for me to be away from my novel and I was feeling withdrawal symptoms already. In a way, however, it was a relief to get away from it. David Foster Wallace (the author of Infinite Jest) talks about writing here and describes the process as like a "hideously damaged infant that follows the writer around". The extended metaphor is grotesque, hilarious, and absolutely captures my own experience with it. When Holly Lisle writes that your book is not your baby,* this is not the kind of baby she was talking about.

Okay, that's all the time I've got for now. Tomorrow: beachcombing, grilled cheese, and must-see-TV! More photos will be up tonight.

*Encouraging authors to think of writing as an active, grueling ordeal with frequently flawed results; rather than as a natural gestation period that unfailingly produces a perfect, adorable infant

Categories: travel