Owls
You may be wondering why you haven't heard about the barred owls that nested behind our house between 2009 and 2012. Here's a photo from 2012.
There's a mystery behind the silence. At first everything appeared to be proceeding normally, if late because of our cold spring (the winter that would never end). We heard and saw the owls, and occasionally glimpsed them visiting or nearby to the sycamore that they have always nested in.
Crows were building a nest just two houses north of the owls, and we didn't expect that to work out; one year the owls trashed a crow nest that was further away. Owls and crows don't get along. But it surprised us when a pair of red-shouldered hawks evicted the crows and took over the nest -- we started seeing red-shouldered hawks here only last year. We doubted that the owls and hawks would be comfortable so close to one another.
Then events happened so rapidly that we're at a loss as to cause and effect. Before we went to the Arc of Appalachia Wildflower Pilgrimage, there was an overnight thunderstorm. Also, we were awakened dramatically early one morning by both owls blasting their entire repertoire of hoots, calls, and cries at full volume. They sounded as if they were just outside our window, certainly in front of the house, a location they've never perched in before, and they were loud enough to jar us awake over the drone of an air purifier. At some point in the next few days we noticed that the crow/hawk nest was damaged, with sticks dangling, and no hawk was sitting in it any more. Was this thunderstorm damage? A midnight raid from the owls? An egg predator?
As the days continued to pass we saw less of our owls. Then we saw a squirrel entering that cavity, a sign that the owls weren't occupying it. Had there been predation that had affected both the owl and crow/hawk nest? Had whatever supported the owl nest within the chimney of the sycamore collapsed?
We hear the owls at most once a week now, and were granted only one good viewing after the turmoil. Our wish is that they will nest in that sycamore again next year, but we can only wait and see. The red-shouldered hawks continue to visit the neighborhood, but they're obviously not nesting here either.
Bats
The annual visit from little brown bats repeated in 2013. There's a spot under the top step of the deck where, each spring, a little brown bat begins to spend the daylight hours. Check again the next day and there's two. After a while there's half a dozen or even ten. Here's the gang from 2009:
After a few weeks they move on. This year, they left May 19th. Our guess is that we're hosting a hunting camp, and when it's time to start families, a better bat roost is required.
Phoebes
The phoebes nested on the little platform under our deck this year. They don't stay with us every year, but this is one of them. This cheers us up in the absence of the owls. In earlier years we've seen little heads poking up over the edge of the nest. This time they appear to have only one chick. Here is a long-zoom view; if you approach too closely, phoebe chicks are liable to burst out of the nest even if they aren't ready yet.
The phoebe chick fledged on May 20th, and we've seen it flying in close pursuit of a parent ... begging to be fed and learning to hunt, no doubt.
Hummingbirds
The hummingbirds were also delayed by the long, cold spring. We saw our first hummer on May 9th, the latest since we began writing it down on the calendar. The previous latest arrival was May 5th, in 2005. These aren't scientific observations, but we do write it down when we see the first one. So far we have seen only the females, which is unusual.
Chimney Swifts
Chimney swifts are also regular guests. Their chittering and swooping flight makes even the most stoic person think, That must be fun. When they dive into and burst out of our chimney, we hear a "foop!" in the living room.
Tree Frog
He wasn't a bird, but we also had a visit from a gray tree frog. There had been a loud noise we couldn't identify until Joan spotted this fellow resting on our deck railing. He's really rather small ... note the nail head to the left ... but this photo shows his inflated voice sac. (Click on the photo to enlarge).
He turned out to be very relaxed, even when I opened the door (gently) and stepped closer (slowly) to snap his portrait. He has changed into his grey phase to match the deck.
He's living somewhere in the bushes next to the deck. We often hear him, but have seen him only this once.
That's our state of the spring report!
A major project for 2012 was taking the photographs for a one-year zoomwalk through my neighborhood. This video is constructed from 1,768 photos taken between January 1st and December 31st, 2012. The date each photo was taken is in the lower right-hand corner of the frame.
I took two steps between photos, and shot between 6 and 10 photos per day. Also, I was away for several one to two week periods during the year. As you might suspect, despite my efforts, taking photographs in small chunks on separate days or even weeks increases the "wiggle" of the video. Going around curves was tricky, and I learned to take only one step per photo in such situations.
Note that the year started with three Christmas Pigs in the yard, but ended with four.
If you would like to see the video in its full resolution (1280 x 720), click here (you will be taken to the Vimeo web site).
Technique Tweaks
I mostly recently discussed the frame alignment and morphing techniques used in an earlier post. Since then, there's been one major tweak to the frame alignment algorithm.
Last year, for a sequence of photos 1-2-3-4-5-6, photo #2 would be an anchor to which #1 and #3 would be compared, #5 would be an anchor to which #4 and #6 would be compared, and so forth. The choice of anchors was fixed and immutable. Now, the anchors are chosen based on prior results. For example, let's say that the comparison of #3 to the anchor, #2, succeeded; then the next anchor would still be #5 (to compare #4 and #6 against). But if the alignment of #3 and #2 failed -- the change to #3 was too great -- then the next anchor is #4, not #5. Photos #3 and #5 would be compared to #4. Thus there is a second chance to align #3 to an adjacent photo if the first attempt fails. With this improvement, fully half of the photos in this zoomwalk were aligned.
And here is a photo to feed a thumbnail to the Recent Posts and Popular Posts widgets.
In mid-February Joan and I visited the Hocking Hills area of Ohio, staying at the Inn and Spa at Cedar Falls. This post won't be a description of the Inn ... Tripadvisor does a good job of reviewing that excellent place ... but it will report on the surprising winter walks we took.
Our first stop was at the Hocking Hills Regional Welcome Center, where we collected brochures and visited the Pencil Sharpener Museum. Then, before even arriving at the Inn, we hiked at Old Man's Cave. Click on this map, which shows the location of the Inn and of the parking for Old Man's Cave, to enlarge it. (Thank you, Google Maps!)
We bundled up and each of us used two walking sticks, which were very useful because we encountered a landscape of frost, ice and snow as soon as we descended into the gorge.
There was both melt water and air flowing under many of the ice sheets. The combination sometimes looked like bubbles, other times like tear drops. Here is a short video clip; at first it's not in focus, but as the zoom pulls back the camera finds the right settings.
We moved upstream along the gorge until the path began to climb towards the rim, but then, a set of rocky steps appeared. The path was narrow and the stones were coated with ice and angled uphill. Even with two sticks apiece, it was too slippery for comfort. Joan and I turned around and proceeded along the trail in the gorge's depths towards Old Man's Cave. By this point my hands were aching from the cold, especially because we had been stopping and gawking so much. I removed my ordinary gloves and switched to thicker outdoor mittens, which helped a lot.
To reach Old Man's Cave we needed to cross an arched stone bridge, shown here in a picture taken later. Joan and I would have been crossing from left to right.
The surface of the bridge was ice-covered, and had already been traversed by a few people, slickening the surface even more. After taking a few tentative steps we decided to continue down the gorge to the lower falls, where we could easily cross the stream and then climb to the rim and approach Old Man's Cave from above, and on the other side.
The lower falls was enchanting too.
As planned, we climbed to the rim and then reached the spot for descending to Old Man's Cave. Partway down, it looked like this, with fascinating rock formations. Clearly we were on the lee side of the gorge, with hardly any snow or ice underfoot.
Lower down, Joan provides some scale.
After visiting the cave our route was back up to the top, where we crossed the stream again, above a stepped bridge we had gingerly used earlier on our way downstream. The sharp edge between the icy and clear zones on these steps was curious.
Crunching along in the thin snow, we reached the upper falls.
Joan provides some scale yet again in this closeup. From here the parking area was within sight.
That evening at the Inn we saw a fox hunting in the snow, partly obscured by the desiccated summer vegetation. The light was low, and I was taking photos through a window at maximum zoom, but this image is intelligible if not artistic.
After breakfast the next day we both enjoyed a massage at the Inn's spa, which we highly recommend. Afterwards we drove to Conkle's Hollow, where, with the sunshine brightening, we soon encountered more ice staircases (click to enlarge).
Towards the end of the hollow we crossed a shallow stream by carefully placing our weight on the translucent sheet of ice above it, or on strategically placed driftwood. At the hollow's end there was the familiar arrangement of ice created by falling water above ice created by fallen water.
Looking back at the way we had come in, it seemed a different world.
This wide view of the left side of the hollow reveals icicles in the deeper recesses.
Back at the car we had a snack, and then drove on to Ash Cave, which was a short walk from the parking area.
Zooming in on the large mound of ice beneath the falls,
Looking at it from the other side.
I couldn't resist taking a picture of the dangling ice from behind.
The ice mound beneath was intriguing, with a constant spray of water showering onto it.
Our next stop was at the Ash Cave fire tower.
We climbed to the top,
where this was the view. Not bad for February!
Our final stop for the day was at Cedar Falls.
These falls were pretty, but difficult to approach closely in the icy conditions.
There is a trail connecting Cedar Falls and Old Man's Cave, part of the Buckeye Trail, a cross-state hiking path. This section is dedicated to Emma "Grandma" Gatewood, a founding member of the Buckeye Trail Association, and three-time Appalachian Trail thru-hiker. Joan and I had time to hike about halfway to Old Man's Cave before returning. The trail had been rerouted in sections due to fallen trees (last summer's derecho?) and wear-and-tear. Sometimes the trail offered two choices, and which one was preferred wasn't always clear, but it was impossible to get lost.
We had seen a lot of ice by this point, but one formation seized our attention. First we noticed the frozen spray from above coating nearby branches.
Then the mystery of this ice mound grew as we studied it more closely.
Where the spray was currently falling there was a forest of tall, crystal spires, center in the photo above. To the lower right there are frozen flows, terraces of ice. Then, looking back into the walls, the half-caldera, it became even more astonishing.
In the foreground the ice is chunky, like demolition rubble. Then we have the land of vertical shards. But most interesting is the mound revealed as a row of separate columns of ice topped by a polished and terraced cap. Wouldn't you love to see a timelapse video of how this came to be?
We returned to the Inn at Cedar Falls for dinner and a good sleep. There was no rush the next morning, for freezing rain had fallen overnight and we decided to give it time to melt. By the time we departed the roads were in good shape, and we explored some of the county roads in this area. Laurelville, population 528, was our lunch goal because we needed to try out the Ridge Inn Restaurant. It was good, very good; perhaps we should have skipped breakfast! As it was we drove away with a half dozen of their fabulous donuts, which have just the right texture (not full of air, not too thick) and, again, just the right amount of sugar glaze. Too bad it's at least an hour away from our house.
The weather had cooperated for our visit, which doesn't always happen in February. We were able to take each desired hike, and visit both the Inn & Spa at Cedar Falls and the Ridge Inn Restaurant for the first time.
And our luck with the timing of the visit, to see the ice formations at the most interesting point in their evolution, couldn't have been better.
