Much Better When You Stop

There are places we drive past again and again that pique our interest.  "Someday I'll check it out," we say, and never do.  

Not so, this fine Monday.  A trip to the Montezuma Wildlife Refuge was the order of the day.  The destination, even.  Not just a hurried stop along the way.  Finally, I'd be able to find out everything about those halls I've heard so much about.

But first, the swamp.

Not a bright sunny day, but not bad for early April
in Upstate New York.

Occasionally the sun would pop out and illuminate the cat-tails.
I think the volunteers keep the invasive phragmites under control.
Otherwise there would be no view beyond those lofty plants.
I'm pretty sure they take their name from a tribe of tall evil invaders
in the Bible's book of Hydroponicus.

And it would be a shame not to be able to see the ducks.

Lots of them, and lots of different kinds.
They seem to enjoy swimming.

We can cross the Goldeneye Duck off our "to be seen" list.
I wonder why they're called that.

The Mrs. and Mr., I believe.

The bufleheads were also in residence.

A buck for each duck fills a truck.

Such diversity so close to the NY State Thruway.
Seems like maybe we've done something right here,
even though the proximity must take its toll.

Taking off!

Love the splashes as they run along the water.

Also nice to see them fly.

Pony tails are in.

I love to watch these prehistoric-looking herons fly.
Very purposeful and graceful.

The tree holds court over the canal beyond the swamp.

Black ducks with a white bill?
No, these are coots!
I've been called one many times, and now I know why.
They're elegant and lovely!

Dad focusses on Mom with gosling.

A different duo drips after dunking.

Incoming and...

Splashdown.

After visiting Montezuma proper,
we went on a wild goose chase to find the sandhill cranes,
but only saw a few hawks and this killdeer.
I was convinced he only had one leg until he took off showing both.

The refuge claims 3 nesting pairs of eagles within the confines,
but we only saw this scary replica.
I would not want to meet an eagle this size, regardless of national symbolism.

All in all, a fine day at the edge of the swamp.  But we didn't see any halls during the entire escapade.  We'll have to go back and search again.

My Big Backyard

When it snows, I have a really big back yard.
It's great to be able to ski right out your back door.

The owners of the lot backing up to mine provide a fine cross country ski resort.

The resort is also enjoyed by a number of other animals.
I would commit a faux pas if I didn't point out that these tracks
were created by fox paws.

Pretty amazing how far apart these fox tracks are.
The little guy can practically fly when he wants to.

This is his chalet.

There are humans out here too.
This one walked in the tracks I made yesterday.
But they are rare, and usually, all I see is their tracks.

Deer tracks.  Lots of them.

Note the cleft hoof.
This footprint is either from a deer or a small demon.

The creek winds through the course.

I'm looking down the little hill toward the narrow bridge.
Several disaster scenarios linger here, though I have not seen them.  Yet.

The ducks were minding their own business in the stream when I zipped across the bridge.
I'm not sure if they were more startled than I was, but they certainly left more quickly.

Always interesting to look back at what you created 
when you thought you skied a straight track.

The tracks on the left are from zipping down.
The tracks on the right were created while plodding back up.
It is the biggest hill in the world,
or at least it used to be when I dragged the kids to it on a sled.
I miss those days.

The cell towers are in the distance, near the main road.
I co-led the resistance to placing them on the other side of the course, 
backing up to the surrounding houses.
¡Viva la Revolución!

I spooked this guy while he was minding his own business in the creek.
Pretty rare to see a Heron this time of year.
It's always a good day when you see a Heron.

40-odd years ago, I occasionally played hockey on this pond with the kids who lived around the course.
We'd shovel the ice and skate for hours.
We weren't very good.  We still have all our teeth.

Another pretty spot where the creek has been diverted around a pond.

I never go near the clubhouse,
 just in case someone wants to exercise his Second Amendment Rights.

The squirrels also have a clubhouse.
I never go near theirs, either.