My Friends Are Back

Summer is here, even if it is only mid-May. All of my summer friends are back, and there are a few new ones. Here are some of them.

Warm weather, a so-called fair weather friend, is great. May is usually warm but not oppressive.

The days are longer. The bad news is that in just a few weeks after the summer solstice, days start getting shorter.

Flowers and trees are in bloom. With warmer than normal temperatures, some wildflowers seem to be more prolific than usual. Examples include blue eyed grass with their striking blue indigo color and star of david. Marble sized apples and peaches dot the dwarf fruit trees. Should be a good crop this year - first ever for the new peach trees.

Blue-eyed grass

Star of David

Our woods is now in full vegetation mode. The trail is now a green corridor, masking much of the open vistas of the leafless winter months.

Wooded canopy along the trail

Birds are singing. Their early morning serenades give the new day a hopeful start. I especially enjoy the fluted melodies of the wood thrush. Rufus sided towhees with their black capes flit in the underbrush as we amble along the trail. I marvel at the improvised choruses of the mockingbird. Hearing the plaintive bleat of nighthawks just before daybreak is a sure sign of summer for me. A flycatcher nest, hiding in plain sight on the downspout of our house, is full of young about to fledge. Didn't see them until a few days ago.

Cicadas are starting to buzz. We see several abandoned larval shells from which the cicadas emerge each year. Hearing them reminded me that the 17 year cicada for our area will return in 2016. I tell Suz, who has a phobia about buzzing insects, about this. "I'll be leaving town then," she said resolutely.

Our snake buddies are around; they've never really left. Blackie, our resident black rat snake, hangs out in a plastic storage unit with flower pots. All 5 feet of it was draped across the trail the other day when Suz and the dogs walked by the wood pile. She also observed our garter snake by the patio; it even posed for a photo. A black racer appeared in the mulch near the driveway.

And, a baby black racer appeared in the garage. It was about the size of a large earthworm, squirming mightily as I rescued it from certain demise when our car pulled out. I noted the bright colored pattern of the snake but at the time had no idea what it was. The colors reminded me vaguely of a copperhead. I looked on the internet for "baby copperhead." This snake's picture appeared, labeled as a baby copperhead. That was ominous. If there was one baby, there would likely be more. Could one get into the house or be venomous enough to hurt or kill our dogs. But I noted the shape of the head. It did not look like a viper-shape. But what did I know? Not to worry; the picture was mislabled. On a suggestion from Suz, I looked up a photo of a black racer. It was an exact replica of the one we saw. Whew!

Black racer hiding in plain sight near driveway

Baby black snake

In three weeks, we'll be in Orlando for a family vacation. But that's getting ahead of ourselves. Today, we'll enjoy May and it's charms in Bittersweet Woods.

Hawaii

We just returned from Hawaii. We've been there before, but each time it continues to amaze. We spent a week on Maui and the second week on the Big Island.

I like the pleasant weather, scenery, microclimates, and the culture of native Hawaiians. The microclimates are unexpected for first time visitors and are fascinating each time I visit. There is the ocean, mountains, arid scrub, rain forest, open plains, and vast stretches of old lava flows on the Big Island. Weather can be totally different in each microclimate area, even within a half hour drive.

Here were the high points of this trip:

Relaxation: Suz and I are able to relax. We can enjoy walks, sitting by the ocean, staring out at the incredible scenery and, for minutes at a time, do nothing. This is a nice break from the often continuous activity at home.

Hearing native Hawaiian Veni explain the culture, history, and values of native Hawaiians. Their culture respects the environment, family, and fellow human beings. It is so refreshing to hear; why can't we live this way now? Their outlook is reflected in the greeting "Aloha." In Hawaiian, Aloha means affection, peace, compassion, and mercy.

Preparing for luau.

Being in and near the ocean. I learned how to stand-up paddle board, snorkeled, and kayaked every day.

Sea turtle taking a break on beach


Seeing Todd's reaction to the scenery, especially on the Big Island which he had not seen before.

Akaka Falls - 442 foot high falls on Big Island.

Helicopter Tour with Paradise Helicopter Tours of volcano area near Hilo on Big Island


Learning about Kona coffee at Heavenly Hill Coffee Farm. It was fascinating to learn how coffee is grown, processed, and marketed. Kona coffee's milder taste is gaining in popularity.

Attending mass at local churches, Maria Lanakila in Lahaina on Maui and St. Michael's church in Kailua on the Big Island. Maria Lanakila means "Victorious Mary" in Hawaiian. During mass I glanced out the window to see the sun breaking through the shrouded West Maui mountains. It was almost a heavenly experience. St. Michael's Church has no church building now. It was damaged in a 6.7 earthquake in 2006 and was razed in 2010. They meet in a large tent. What a lively group. A new church will be built when funds are raised.

St. Michael's Church - a reminder that church is the people, not the building.


Enjoying Hawaiian and reggae music on KWXX, the "feel good" station in Hilo. I now listen on line at home.

Going home. Even in such an amazing setting, it is good to get home to our own little patch of heaven in Bittersweet Woods.

Backpacking at Mohican

My grandson Connor and I had completed an overnight backpack last November. I picked Mohican State Park because of the area's reputation for scenery. It also had unique "park and pack" system of sites. They offer a backpacking experience but with parking close by, so the hike to the site is no more than a mile or two. Then we day hike - without packs. This plan works for Connor, who likes camping more than hiking and for Connor's Dad, Gregg who favors the hiking more than the camping.

The week before, I gathered my own equipment, plus extra gear (and a few food items) that Connor and Gregg did not have. Early Friday, I'm on the road to the camping area. The drive takes me through Amish country in Tuscarawus and Holmes counties in Ohio. I had not been there in decades. It is beautiful on this sunny, mild morning. There horse drawn buggies, nicely decorated buildings, and bustling activity.

I drive through nearby Loudenville and head into the park. Loudenville is a pretty town - even has a McDonalds. I won't mention that to the campers just yet, so I can preserve some measure of a wilderness experience. Campsite 3 had plenty of parking, and looks like a good place to start. I wait at our designated rendezvous location but without cell service don't know where they are. They arrive ready to hike.

We decide to do a hike first before setting up camp since there is time, and the day is sunny. We hike the upper end of the Clear Fork gorge, starting from the covered bridge towards two waterfalls and the dam. It is a beautiful hike. Along the way, we recall humorous vacation adventures. The falls and views from the dam are impressive.

Gregg stands under Big Lyons Falls; Connor is above the falls - out of sight.

Dave and Connor at the dam.


Connor loves the steep hills and scrambles to the top of the falls. We return to the covered bridge on the gorge trail. The sun is hot; many wildflowers carpet the low areas around the creek.

Virginia Blue Bells

At the camp site parking lot, we sort gear, pack up, and hike to Camp site 3. The trail even featurs a new hiking experience for them - a shoes-off stream crossing of Pine Creek just before arriving at the campsite. It is a perfect site - flat, with a fire ring, several good tent sites, stone tables that someone built, and proximity to Pine Creek for water.

We set up camp and gather fire wood. Incredibly, no major camp item has been forgotten - or malfunctions. Connor tends the fire and cranks up the camp stoves. It is a relaxing time. We devour our respective camp food preparations. Then we gather more firewood, and relax around the fire talking about family, camp gear, and Connor's school activities. We turn in shortly after dark. The stars are brightly shining; Pine Creek gurgles in the distance.

The next morning dawns gray and cool. Connor revives the campfire which is burning brightly as I emerge from my tent. We are planning a base camp, so there is no rush to pack up stuff. I like that. Oatmeal tastes good as we fortify ourselves for the day's hiking. The plan is hike the gorge trail, then check our other trails or points of interest. As we leave camp, a few rain drops are falling....hmmmmm.

We hike the gorge trail. The rain becomes less intermittent, more steady. A shelter at trail's end gives us a break for a snack and review of plans. We decide to hike to Gregg's car, since it is closer - instead of returning to my car along the gorge trail. The rain has stopped. I decide to play the McDonalds card. We stop for lunch but mainly for the wi-fi, so we can check the weather forecast.

I'm not a McDonalds regular, and decide to order a Happy Meal because it has smaller portions and apple slices. I disclose my cluelessness about Happy Meals. When asked what kind of Happy Meal, I respond, "the one with apple slices." Connor becomes hysterical - all Happy Meals have apple slices, it turns out.

The weather radar sounds the death knell for our trip. A huge green blob of rain looms for two states to the west, assuring us of rain the rest of the day and through the night. We finish our McDonalds, return to camp, pack up and head home. I am bummed out - had been looking forward to another pleasant night around camp and had no idea the weather would be that bad.

But I'm grateful for the good experience. Connor had become a mostly self sufficient backpacker. Seeing the excitement he displayed at climbing the hills and tending the fire was a high point for me. Gregg seemed to enjoy himself despite a self professed discomfort with tent camping.

We're planning a trip for Emily and Catrina - a more toned down car camping - but still getting them experience in the out of doors. That's what counts.

Daybreak

My office window looks out over a broad vista of the Ohio River valley, facing southeast. I have a perfect view of the horizon when the sun comes up.

Sunrise views are often there - if only I take time to notice them. There was just the right mix of clouds, atmospheric conditions, and jet contrails on this crisp January morning to produce this spectacular sunrise. I saw it and trekked up to the roof of the building. I gently trudged over glazed ice, framed the picture, and shot it. A minute or two later the colors faded into daylight.

A usual, the photo falls short of depicting the real beauty of the scene. But it is still a wonderful picture, testimony that the heavens do reveal the glory of God - Psalm 19:1-4:

1 The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
2 Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
3 They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.
4 Yet their voice[b] goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.

Ice Age

It has been a warmer than average winter so far - lots of days in the 50's interspersed with relatively few bitter cold days. Today has been one of the latter. I could see the pink blotches over our area on weather radar. And there was mention of a "wintry mix" in the forecast. When we went outside this morning, everything was coated in ice. It was treacherous walking on any pavement - a complete glaze. Our physics teacher would describe the situation as a VERY low coefficient of friction. 



The woods were a filigree of shiny ice coatings. A few branches were down, but fortunately this was not a severe ice storm that leaves a grotesque aftermath of downed trees and broken limbs.



Some trees were drooping; evergreens had a downcast appearance, as though hibernating. By noon, much of the pavements were clear. A slight mist and subfreezing temps kept the ice from melting from branches and the ground. Gabbie and Tess quickly learned to avoid any pavement or boardwalks. Otherwise it was business usual except they had to wait on me as I tiptoed and quick-stepped through the slick zones.



This Ice Age will last only 24 hours or so. Soon the spectacle will disappear. Another beautiful scene in Bittersweet Woods will be sealed in our memories - or at least in our digital memories, as long as our backups are done properly.