Not a good sign....

Our ficus tree is definitely a tropical plant. So much so that it takes freezes hard. Really hard. Two years in a row may be more then it can take.

Last summer, after a particularly tough winter for it, we had it trimmed. The tree was more then 30 feet high and much more then we could handle, especially since part of it hung over the house. The tree had started growing back and looked like it was going to make it. The tree service cut it back to the level where the growing back. We hoped it would fill in over the next few years, shading the porch again as it has for much of the last decade.

This January brought another freeze, and the ficus took it hard again. And while didn't loose all it's leaves like it did the January before, it lost enough of the "new" growth to be concerning.

Fast forward a few months.

We noticed a woodpecker busily tapping away at one of the upper branches, back in April. Then we noticed that many of the big trunk-sized branches had loose bark and fungus growing them. Not just on one, but many of them, all over the tree.

I planted that "tree" when we first moved into the house 17 years ago. It was originally a houseplant consisting of many ficus saplings, all in one pot, I had bought for my apartment when I lived at the Willows. After we'd learned that the former owners had taken out an oak tree to put a pool in the back yard (something that never happened), we planted the ficus as a replacement, along with several other trees. Little did we realize how big it would get, or how we would come to appreciate the shade it provided for the house, the porch and the living room during the brilliant Florida summers.

The other day I noticed something white on one of the trunks. The next round of fungus attacks had begun. While the south part of the tree looks stronger, with it's bright green leaves shiny and looking strong, the north side appears to be struggling, the leaves dull and streaked yellow green.

The question now becomes will the tree as a whole survive? I don't know if what were once individual saplings, are now so merged and intertwined that they are truly one tree, and if so, can it survive half of it's trunk rotting and dying from within. One thing is certain, however, fungus growing on its trunks is not a good sign.

It's hard to say if the tree will survive. The base of this tree as about 3 feet across. It has, or at least it did have, a lot of reserves to survive a freeze. Most of those reserves are exhausted now. I've seen other types of trees survive being hollowed out from within. Maybe this one will also. Only time will tell. Time and no freezes for the next few winters.

Down...

I love clouds. There is something amazing about watching a thunderhead boil into the summer sky, knowing that rain is on the way. The contrast between the bright white and brilliant blue of the summer sky is beautiful, powerful and inspiring.

But every once and a while I get to see clouds in a different way.

Instead of the flat bottom of the point of view we all normally see, the clouds take on an entirely different character from above.

It's a landscape that changes in moments as you zoom by, with mountains ranges as transient and ephemeral as their earthly cousins are solid.

You can find yourself in the midst of a forest of cumulus towers punching holes through higher, thinner clouds,

... or looking down on rolling hills set among flat planes with only clear sky above, while you wonder that those clouds you thought were so high up now seem so low, their shadows playing gracefully across the surface, creating patterns and shapes as fascinating as the clouds themselves.

I'll always love flying amongst the clouds. They can look so solid...

...yet you could pass right through them.

So I'll keep my eyes looking skyward when I'm on the ground, looking for the play of nature in all her glory.

But when I'm flying, I'll be looking down instead of up. Because those are the times when I can see the clouds from an entirely different perspective. One that's as unique and ever changing as the days themselves.

Up..

Last month I went to Miami on a business trip. I didn't
just go to Miami, I went to MIAMI... as in Downtown, as
in the Center Of The City, where there are a lot of buildings.

Tall buildings.

Really tall buildings. You stand at the bottom
and look up. Way UP.

It made my neck hurt.

Some of them we residential...

...but more of them were banks. Miami is a banking center.
Wells Fargo, Bank of America, Citi. They were all there.
There were others.

Doesn't look like the building you'd find on the corner
of Park St and Main, does it?

They even lit them up at night, so you could still see them.
Wouldn't want to loose something that big in the dark, would
you? You might trip over them, or something.

I guess I'm not much of a city girl. These man-made canyon
walls were just too unnatural for me. The noise and bustle
of the traffic as it ebbed and flowed along the streets
made me wish for quieter, greener places.

Miami was nice to visit. But in the end, I'd rather be
in the middle of nowhere, looking up at one of these...

...than a forest of these.

Territorial Boundaries...

Like two confused warblers, the cries of the loaders call out not their territories, but their retreats in the cool morning air...

We Needed The Rain

Storms move onshore.
A crow caws on the light post.
Protector or trickster, message or omen.
A sign of things to come?

The clouds move over us,
Cats careen from room to room.
Thunder rumbles and lightening flashes.
The sky is only bright to the east.

The wind swirls and blows.
Rain runs from the roof in rivulets.
The birdbath fills and overflows,
Watering newly planted seeds.

The storm passes.
The crow moves on, his job completed.
The message from the gods:
No tricks today.

The western sky brightens.
The dark clouds retreat to the east.
I like crows.
We needed the rain.

Fly Away....

Female Bald Eagle - St Petersburg, FL

The Norfolk Botanical Gardens have hosted a live Eagle Cam for several years now. The cam allowed people literally all across the world to watch a pair of wild bald eagles raise their young without disturbing them. I fell in love with this pair of eagles about a year ago, as they were raising last years brood of three chicks. This year, the pair had another brood of three chicks, a testament to the parents themselves and the resources near by. This was the third year, at least, that this pair had a clutch of three eggs.

These were wild eagles. The parents weren't banded. The female was thought to be 15 years old. The male a few years younger. Each year researchers would raid the nest twice, once to band the chicks, measure them, weigh them and use that information to determine their sex, and a second time to place a tracking transmitter on the biggest, oldest chick, so they could continue their research and track their movements once they'd left the nest. A local tree service volunteered a climber to help first lower the chicks, then raise them back to the nest each time.

The parents and the chicks never receive names. They were simply "the female", "the male" and after banding "NV", "NX" and "NZ" for the chicks this year. But even without names, we grew to love them. That's why it hurt so much when the female was struck and killed last Tuesday by a plane at the international airport nearby. The area around the airport is prime hunting and fishing habitat. The Gardens themselves a protected space ideal for raising young eagles. The state of Virginia used the Cam to increase the knowledge of eagles in the wild and to raise awareness of eagles and their lives. The bird strike was an accident.

People poured in sympathy and sorrow to the moderated blog that the NBG runs. During nesting season, people can write in to ask questions. Teachers used the Cam as a teaching tool to help their students appreciate these majestic creatures. We all learned about the lives of the eagles. Little did we realize that they would also teach us about death in the wild, and the impact that we, as humans, have on the natural world.

The male continued to bring fish to the nest the next morning, and after waiting a short time for the female to return, started feeding the chicks himself, something he'd done before. But by mid-morning Tuesday, there was no need to bring any more fish.

Researchers and conservators moved quickly to do what was best for the chicks survival. Feeding three hungry, growing eaglets is a tough job for two capable parents, but it would soon become too much for the male. Without enough food the eaglets could become weak or sicken. Worse, they could begin to turn on each other, perhaps pushing the youngest, smallest chick from the nest. Instead, the researchers decided that the best thing was to remove the three chicks from the nest and raise them in captivity, isolated as much as possible from humans, so that when ready, they could be released into the wild to live as they would have had their mother survived.

What surprised me was how sad I felt for the eagles. I would check in on them once a day for a few minutes to see what was going on. I would try to figure out which parent was on the nest and was getting pretty good at it. The females are larger then the males by about 25%, as are all raptors. The chicks, at 5 weeks old, were just starting to get their permanent feathers, and in the last day or two had started picking at the fish their parents left behind while hunting, learning quickly to feed themselves. Now the nest looks empty and bare. Ironically, this female lost her mate to a plane strike in 2003. The next year she returned to the Gardens with a new mate, the male we love today. Tuesday afternoon after the chicks had reached their new home, the Cam showed the male sitting on the nest eating fish he'd brought for the chicks. It about broke my heart. I feel like I have lost one of my own...

They say he'll move on in a few days. That he will mourn and grieve his loss, but not the way we do. Remorse and sorrow are human traits we attribute to the animals we love. Still, I can't help feel for this male, who first lost his mate, and then lost his family. They say instinct will be his guide, but nature can be a harsh mistress, especially when humans are involved.

Hopefully, the male will find a new mate. The area has a number of other eagles. Maybe he'll bring her back to this nest in the Gardens as the female did with him. And if he does bring her back, we'll all be there next year, watching the eagles on the Cam, raising a new family in the skys over the Botanical Gardens, free and brave and wild.

For updates on the NBG eaglets visit:

Wildlife Center of Virginia - 2011 NGB Eaglets page

Norfolk Botanical Gardens - Eagle Cam (see the moderate chat on the right)

On Commission

I just finished my first, ever, commissioned crochet project. A friend at work asked me if I would be willing to make a blanket for her friend's new baby boy due in March. She had remembered that I had made a blanket for a mutual friend many years ago. She said she wanted something special. I said sure I thought I could do that for her, but I had a few other things to finish first.

I did a little research on line to see what other people were charging for hand-made baby blankets. Some people charged by the hour and up to $10-15/hr, some just charge 3X cost of materials, while others just covered cost of materials. Prices ranged from $30 to $300 or more.

The blanket I made before this one, for a different friend of mine that just had a baby, took me about 15 hours to make and 7 skeins of yarn (cost: $33). For the 3X cost model, that would have been about $99, but ND and I agreed on $110 and I would pay for the yarn. I think that was fair. I didn't want to gouge her, and she wanted to pay a fair price for the work.

I didn't keep track of the hours and I only needed 6 skeins (and still had enough for the bonus hat). It took about 3 weeks to make, working on it when we were watching TV ("I Claudius" helped a bunch), and a little before going to bed, but otherwise no real rush. The baby was due on March 5th, so I had plenty of time (except that babies being babies, he decided to arrive 2 weeks early. Oh well.)

I brought it in for ND on Monday. I worried while I was making it that she would be disappointed in it, or she wouldn't like the colors I picked or whatever. I guess I shouldn't have worried. She flipped out when she saw it, absolutely loved it. Especially the hat. I'm glad. Today she handed me $120 and said keep it, it's worth it. Um.. OK. Thanks.

Hope the new mom and dad like it. I hope it's something they will cherish. And I hope, really hope, the hat fits, cause I have no idea how big this little boy's head is.