Spring and early summer here in Vermont was wet. Really, really wet. The lawn was like walking on an over-saturated bath mat. The property sits low and edged by a very large beaver pond. Springtime is expected to be soggy but June's persistent showers kept the water table super high. On this particular evening around 7:00pm I was sitting inside and simply heard more water sounds than normal. The creek just sounded noisier than usual and it wasn't even raining. We went out and watched for 15 minutes as the creek rose two feet and easily quadrupled in volume. And then it was gone.
I know flash floods are common out west, in canyon country, because the ground is too dry and compact to absorb rain water fast enough. (Like in Arizona. oh. Hi Tamara. Happy Birthday.) So the water just sits on the surface, runs down hill, flash flooding the canyons. I guess the same is true when the ground is too wet. The ground couldn't absorb any more water, so the only option was to flow down hill into our beaver pond. The rain storm must have been just north, northeast-ish, of us. Well, actually I don't know. Generally the weather comes in from the west or south west and moves north, northeast. We are definitely tucked into this little gully. (What do you call a small valley? I need a geography/topography word for this location similar to how an intervale is a New England word for lowlands next to river; or downs is an English word for rolling, grassy, treeless pasture hillsides.) I remember getting rain about an hour or so after the flood happened. Next year, if this happens again, I'd like to chase the flood down the creek into West Halifax and see dump into the Birch Brook or where ever. There was no damage. The water never breached our property. Another 6-8 inches I would have been a little nervous for Lia's new Tuxedo Garden. One day, maybe next summer or spring I'll clean up the creek....ugh. projects. -Tim Late spring. The hummingbirds have arrived.
I saw the hummingbirds zipping around the property when we first moved here last summer. So I decided to buy a nectar feeder to attract them to the house early in summer before we had an abundance of flowers. I think its common knowledge how spectacular the hummingbird is. They are notorious for their tiny size, speed and their bee-like hovering capabilities. I tend to not like to admitting to how amazing these miniature creatures are because they are quite common and often the focus of grade school science projects. To admit to my child-like amazement with these little buggers makes me feel foolish. "Yeah, Tim. Hummingbirds. We know. Everybody knows about hummingbirds...." However, as Project Sincerity is still in session, I must say this: I don't think its possible to truly understand, or comprehend, the reality, not just the concept, but the reality that this little bird, about the size of my index finger, flies back and forth to Mexico every year. I mean, I believe it. I understand the concept. But I don't think I can fully grasp the reality of that fact. And I think its important to acknowledge my incomprehensibility to this feat of nature. Maybe thats it: its important to recognize the 'awesomeness' of the hummingbird migration as a feat of nature, but to nature its really nothing more than just another day at the office. I don't know. I don't want to dig for profundity, but I think there is something nice in there even if I am not getting to heart of it with my stupid words. Yeah. So the ruby-throated hummingbird travels from Mexico and Central America every year up through the South and into the Northeast, even up into Quebec looking for summer food and summer lovin'. And then by late September they turn around and head south. Apparently some will travel through Texas and along the coast of Gulf into Mexico, but some actually make the journey across the waters of gulf in one amazing non-stop stretch. I like to imagine them zipping past Cuba in tiny speed boats instead. Anyway. It took me 3 days of trail and error to get these photos. They are not perfect, but they are about as perfect as my camera/lens will allow. I included a silly diagram of the setup. I have an awesome accessory for my camera that allows me to take photos remotely from hundreds of feet away. The male hummingbirds (with the bright red chests) are actually very bold and will fly right up to you if you're still, but I stood back because they were a little suspicious of the whole setup. Our yard is a wild place. But sometimes, with the help of Tim, it becomes an amazing photo studio. We have two pairs of ruby throated hummingbirds that live in the yard. Check this guy out!
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