This Post Is For The Birds

This post is about the birds - but not all birds, just the fantail pigeons and bantam hens. I'll begin with the pigeons. They have been prolific this year and, in spite of some deaths from old age, have increased in number to 43:

They began to look unhealthy, so I put anti-bacterial medication in their water for a week. It seemed to help a lot:

Then I cleaned their room, a job I do not look forward to. I now plan to attempt to sell about half of them, but haven't done so yet. Stay tuned:

The little hens seemed as healthy as could be, so they never got medication:

Their egg laying went down to an average of one per day (for the whole flock):

But they were healthy and happy, despite not being allowed to go outside:

But on the day I cleaned the pigeon and chicken rooms, I did let them outside. They seemed ridiculously happy, running and chasing bugs, rolling onto their sides to bask in the sun, strutting and clucking:

Alas, three of them began fighting like roosters. It didn't last, though, and hens don't have spurs like roosters, so I wasn't concerned (although I did break it up). They were soon friends again:

The little Easter Egger bantams went one way:

And ventured too close to the dog fence, where Seamus watched them and dreamed of chicken dinners:

And the Barred Rock bantams went off on their own:

When the cleaning was all done, I went out to bring the hens back inside and found feathers. I began to panic, thinking a fox had gotten another hen, but when I used a leaf rake to herd them all back inside, I learned that they were all there and in fine shape. I may let them out occasionally now that autumn is here:

Beauty As We Move Into Autumn

The little garden where I'd removed the giant stump (well, most of it anyway) was slowing down and the Yarrow appeared to be mostly finished blooming for the year:

 There were a few white flowered plants, but I feared they'd drop their seed and increase in number, so I cut off any remaining white flower stalks, leaving the fancier colors, which I prefer:

 The fantail pigeons have finished nesting and all the babies but one appeared to be on their own, no longer requiring their parents to feed them:

 Alas, they began to look kind of shopworn and unhealthy, so I put medication into their water:

The little hens still look plenty healthy, so I haven't given them any medication:

 Their egg laying has dropped to about one small egg per day. Soon it will be no eggs at all:

 Many flowers are still blooming, so I brought three more vases of them to church. This one included Frans Hals Daylilies, Tree Hydrangea and some of the very smallest sunflowers:

 Green sepals from former Rose Mallows, purple (wild) New England Asters, pink Rose Mallows, Tree Hydrangea and two colors of roses (magenta and orange):

All sunflowers, various sizes and colors:

 Far less attractive was the barn floor, soaked with horse urine and manure. I was able to scoop up most of it with the tractor, but had to fork it into the bucket as I got toward the end:

 A giant puffball appeared beneath the bottom wire of the electric fence alongside the gravel road. It grew rapidly. Last time one grew there, the Amish woman from down the road asked for it (many people love to eat them) but so far this year she hasn't asked. I don't find them edible at all. They look like Styrofoam and I found them to be just about as tasty as Styrofoam:

We've had a lot of Monarch butterflies this year. They are flying everywhere but don't generally hold still long enough for me to get a photo. This one landed on the Frans Hals Daylilies, and held still just long enough for me to get a picture:

Wetlands And Wildflowers - Part 3

The dogs and I had walked eastward on the Rutland Trail (see also previous two posts), but had turned back toward our parked car:

I was amazed at the spectacular display of New England Asters:

And the dogs were by this point walking calmly with me instead of running ahead:

They always seemed to aim for the puddles, though:

Clover, ever the little adventurer, pushed back through the brush towards a wetland area. Then she decided against it and watched me to see if we were continuing on. We were, so she came with us:

 The Snowy Egret was right were we'd left it, but the angry Canada Goose had left in a huff:

And on we walked, passing by Asters, Goldenrod and Roughleaf Dogwood on our way:

I try to stop the dogs from drinking out of puddles, but sometimes they do so anyway:

More New England Asters:

And tired, muddy dogs:

 Evening Primrose in bloom:

A stop to smell something interesting:

And then onward through the autumn color:

With the end of the trail getting close, the dogs picked up their speed:

They'd had a grand time but were now anxious to get back to the car and rest:

I took one last photo of the pond, a fitting example of the autumnal beauty all around us:

Wetlands And Wildflowers - Part 2

The dogs and I were walking the Rutland Nature Trail eastward, through abundant wetlands (see also Part 1, posted yesterday). The trail was lined with New England Asters in bloom:

And the dogs were ecstatic and muddy. The black cinders which once held up the railroad ties covered the dogs and got into my shoes and leg braces:

 At the other side of a pond were a Snowy Egret and Canada Goose. The Egret ignored me but the Goose honked angrily, upset that I'd invaded its territory:

Most of the red which you see on the sides of the trail was from Roughleaf Dogwood bushes:

And here is a closeup of Roughleaf Dogwood and its berries:

Seamus gave me his biggest smile:

 I was happy to see one Fringed Gentian, but I began to see more of them, then hundreds of them. They were great beauties:

And the dogs got increasingly covered with black, gritty mud:

Little Jack ran to and fro, always with a great smile:

 More Fringed Gentians:

My shoes and leg braces had become so gritty that walking was painful and I saw nowhere to sit and clean them. So we turned around and began heading back towards our parked car:

 I thought I recognized this sapling with the red leaves, so I looked it up when I got home. I decided it was a Black Tupelo, another species I've seen in pictures but never before in real life:

The dogs had finally tired themselves out and walked with me nicely. I didn't have to keep calling them back:

We passed by some channels along the trail:

The walk back was peaceful and calm:

Milkweed pods were getting ripe but not yet ready to burst and scatter their seeds. I'll post Part 3 tomorrow: