Song of the day: Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, Hot House
Yesterday’s Phenology: Another cool cloudy spring day. Temp just nudged up to 50 degrees. Blue Jays are looking at things very critically, these days. They are vainglorious posers who are never around when there is real work to be done, but they love to complain about things.
Well, maybe they are not all like that.
Song of the day: Harry James and his Orchestra, When Your Lover Has Gone
Yesterday’s Phenology: This has been a pretty nice spring! This morning, in the 40s. Maybe it got up into the 50s today. Rained a lot in the morning, cloudy afternoon, and then more rain and a bit of thunder in the evening. Big buds are opening up everywhere.
Song of the day: Count Basie and his Orchestra, One O’Clock Jump
Yesterday’s Phenology: a dusting of snow overnight made the morning bright and slippery. We took a late morning hike to the dogpark, and the sun came out and it was a beautiful January day there, for awhile. The temps skyrocketed up to break 40, and then the clouds moved in again and more precipitation, rain? snow? and more of the same tonight. There were rumors of eagles and owls at the dogpark, but no, none were seen. Saw a few crows, though, and bunny tracks in the new snow. And lots of dog tracks.
Song of the day: Bobbie Gentry, Ode to Billie Joe
Yesterday’s Phenology: Slipping slowly in to winter. A little colder. Cloudy. Snowflakes on top of the car this evening. Have I mentioned that winter is coming?
Song of the day: Curtis Mayfield, Superfly
Yesterday’s Phenology: Frost on the grass in the morning. A sunny cheerless day.
Song of the Day: Pete Seeger, This Land is Your Land
Yesterday’s Phenology: Okay. It was 20 degrees above average here yesterday. 68. 48. It was a perfect day except that it was in November. The temperature in Two Harbors hit 72. The MPR weather blog says that the University of Maine’s Climate Reanalyzer is forecasting temperatures next week of 30 degrees above average in the arctic. I am having a hard time enjoying this. Tomorrow they are predicting 69, and I am going to get out for a bike ride. Maybe that will cheer me up. Maybe I’ll even see some phenology. A lot of trees are still full of very colorful leaves. It really is beautiful. And there are raspberries to pick. I guess we will take what comes.
Song of the day: Ella Fitzgerald, Too Darn Hot
Today’s picture is perhaps a bit gruesome. But, that’s mother nature for you.
Yesterday’s Phenology: I noticed yesterday that Hazel the cat has started snuggling into the bed at night, as the nights grow cooler. A colleague at work tells me that she’s seen white-throated sparrows migrating through. Once again, I see nothing.
Song of the Day: Nice to rediscover Randy Newman’s Good Old Boys album. A lot of great songs on that. Like this one: Kingfish.
In the field outside the dogpark.
Yesterday’s phenology: a cloudy cool start to the day, in the 50s, and then sunny in the afternoon and upper 70s. The sun is a blinding orange ball at the end of Lake St. on my morning commute. Lots of dragonflies zipping about the pond today. A lone blue heron in the shallow water. Herons seem to be loners, and, perhaps related, they always appear to be annoyed about something. Perhaps they do not enjoy wading about in the shallows, day after day. Anyway. Milkweed pods are splitting open, setting free their silky treasures. Our Ironwood tree seems to have some sort of so-called fruit. Not the kind, I think, that you would eat. Unless you happen to be a Hawfinch.
The forecasters are predicting “heavy rain” for tonight and tomorrow. Flash flood warnings all over the south part of Minnesota.
Song of the day: Down in the Flood, Bob Dylan, 1971
The bees get a bit hysterical as the summer draws down. It’s deadline pressure.
Yesterday’s Phenology: Well, let’s see. Overcast morning and a few sprinkles, then sunny and warmish and a beautiful fall day. A sprinkling of red maple leafs on the ground in the park. I remember now that I saw a Wooly Bear caterpillar crossing the bike trail a couple weeks ago. Wooly Bears are widely known as reliable predictators of the weather. They say that the Wooly Bear has thirteen (13) distinct “segments” that are colored either black or rusty brown. The wider or the more brown segments there are, the milder the winter will be. The more black segments (or segment width. whatever.) the more harsh the coming winter will be. Rule of thumb: if more than a third of the Wooly Bear is brown, it will be a milder winter.
Unfortunatly, I was on my bike at the time, cruising at about 18 mph through a quick S-curve. While I did not smash the Wooly Bear (lord knows what that would have meant for the coming winter) I also was unable to scientifically measure it’s brown/black ratio. And so, well, we just don’t know. We will have to rely instead on the witchcraft and superstitions of the National Weather Service instead.
Two other things: it’s just kind of fun to say Wooly Bear. Whoever named those guys, nice job. And the Wooly Bear that I saw was moving at some serious speed across the bike path. Do Wooly Bears know about bike paths and mortality? Why does a Wooly Bear cross a bike path, anyway?
Song of the day – well, what else could it be? Wooly Bully! – Sam the Sham and the Pharaos, circa ’65
I hadn’t noticed that fellow on the back leaf until today. (There are bugs (and spiders) everywhere, if you look for them. Though it is best not to.) He seems poised to strike, though perhaps he’s just napping there in the shade. I can’t really tell. A particularly hard to read spider, this one.
Yesterday’s phenology: well a nice crackling thunderstorm at about 4 in the morning left everything damp and sultry the rest of the day. Partly sunny, mostly cloudy, it only got up in the 70s, but the humidity was also in the 70s. Not a perfect day. Even with last night’s rain, the water level at the dog park is fairly low now. There was a line of sumac on the drive to the dogpark, along the side of the street, and there was just one that was bright red, like a warning flag. In the yard I noted a black capped chickadee and a goldfinch, and there was also a line up of little brown birds on the roof of the garage, standing at the edge, like ornamentation. They flew up from the driveway as I walked up, and I suspect that they were all digging about in the weeds, having a weed seed feed. I’ve seen a lot of this sort of behavior lately, little brown birds gathering near the sidewalks, in the scrubby little weeds. Perhaps this is harvest time for the wee birdies. They certainly seem pleased about it.
Tonight, at bedtime, it smells like a summer lake around here.