Nancy' s Nature Nook

I recently read about the two feet of snow that were unceremoniously dumped on Vermont and upstate New York this past Monday. Nevertheless, I’m here to tell you that spring has officially arrived. How do I know? Could it be an old Ouija board, an inside plant at some national metrological center, best friends with a farmer connected to the Farmers Almanac? No; it’s the chipmunks.

These tiny striped marauders disappear for the winter and unlike their larger cousins and yard buddies, the squirrels (gray, black and the smaller red squirrels), the chipmunks stay put, hibernating until the mystical word goes out. What that word might be eludes me, but I suspect that they have tiny drums or possibly watch fires.

Tuesday morning I saw a solitary chipmunk (my first) sitting on a bit of snow contemplating the lay of the land (yard) and perhaps hatching tiny chipmunk schemes. When I went out to take a closer look I saw several more running in and out of the stone walls, one of the entrance points into their chipmunk “dens.” A half dozen more were later spotted running wildly to and fro outside of my office window.

The birds have also come out in full chorus within the past week. This morning I got a few photos of this large, handsome cardinal that’s been singing his little heart out, serenading me daily as I wander up the driveway to collect the newspaper. I do my best to whistle back in response, but (as you might have guessed) it’s no contest.

Its official. We made it. Happy spring!

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The birds, squirrels and chipmunks are going crazy as they collect materials to build their nests. Every robin, when spotted, has a piece of straw or twig in its mouth.

I’ve planted ground cover to replace the yews which were decimated by deer over the past few years. Since the new plantings went in the turkeys have used the little hill as a shortcut and occasionally play what looks like turkey tag while running up and down the slope. This spring the entire hillside has been developed into chipmunk condos. There’s been no slow down in the real estate market in my yard!

A steep portion of the newly planted area is being held by a piece of jute netting. One squirrel apparently decided that the jute would be perfect for its nest. I watched as it tugged and pulled and chewed at the webbing. After a few minutes it successfully detached a mouthful and scampered off with its prize.

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I took some time off after my sophomore year in college, having reached a point where the contemplation of my future seemed in order. I spent the first nine months working in a genetics lab, genetics being my passion. The work being done there helped lay the foundation for the Human Genome Project.
In February of 1974 I packed a bag and headed off to explore Europe….a rite of passage at that time. I traipsed my way from here to there and arrived in Ireland in May for a visit with my friend, Miriam, who lived with her family outside of Dublin.

The prior June I’d been invited to visit and we had hitchhiked our way around the southwestern part of Ireland for a week or so. It was an amazing time; I have a very clear memory of my bare feet on hot pavement walking down to wash in the sea in a little place called Ballinskelligs, an Irish speaking town at the bottom of the Iveragh Peninsula in County Kerry. There was only one business building in “town”; one half housed the post office and the other half a pub. We stayed a night or two in the most rudimentary hostel ever seen then ventured up to the Dingle Peninsula. We had beautiful sunny weather the whole time.

Now I was back in Ireland to hitch again, but this time into the Northwest. Toward the end of my visit Miriam and I ventured into Dublin on a warm, sunny Friday so that I might pick up a few items for friends and family back home. I was particularly interested in buying a stethoscope for a friend from the genetics lab (on whom I had a terrible crush!) who was heading off to medical school. Miriam and I wandered around the city, bought my goodies and decided to head home.

Rush hour was upon us, a situation greatly exacerbated by an ongoing bus strike. The streets were crowded with people on foot and in cars. We stuck out our thumbs to hitch a ride and were quickly picked up and on our way back to Miriam’s house. As we headed out of the city we were startled by the sound of two or three very loud explosions coming a few minutes apart. We later learned that three car bombs had gone off in and around City Centre including one near Trinity College….where we had been walking just minutes earlier. No warnings had been given. Twenty six people died and hundreds were injured.

This past weekend I visited Frank Lloyd Wright’s extraordinary house, Fallingwater. The house was built for the Kaufmann family in the mid- 1930′s in southwestern Pennsylvania and it is a wonder to behold.

After thirty years of coveting this visit it finally happened. The house was as interesting and amazing inside and out, as promised. And I learned one very important lesson…….every house should have its own waterfall!!

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