Tulip Trees and Turkeys

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 20:57:00 +0000

A very wet and hungry Great Blue Heron eyeing my pond for a hearty breakfast the day after the Nor'Easter of March 13th!

The first grackle arrived last Friday. Flocks of robins and bluejays arrived earlier in the week ... so ... I am very hopeful that spring is here to stay!!!!!!!!!!!

The Summer of 2009 ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 00:30:00 +0000

I know that I promised to write more but a sweet little collie puppy named Christie got in the way.

This summer flew but there were some wonderful moments in my garden. Here are a few excerps from my column:

July 16th: As I walked out onto my terrace late last Wednesday afternoon, there, lying still on the bricks next to my prized yellow hibiscus, was a female hummingbird. Her fragile beauty and delicate wings were absolutely breathtaking. When I gently picked up this marvelous bejeweled treasure, I felt a faint heartbeat.

Warmed in my cupped hand, her tiny heart began to beat faster and her wings began to flutter—and then, just as suddenly, they stopped. As tears filled my eyes at the thought of losing her, I felt her life force return. And, when I opened my hand, her wings were beating stronger and, this time, I could hear a distinctive “hum.”

As I set her free, I watched in awe as she quickly flew up into her favorite old pine tree in my woods.

Two days later, as I sat quietly on my chaise lounge, she reappeared and hovered for quite a while, just 2 feet in front of me, unafraid, flying up, down, sideways and backwards. She was so close that I could almost touch her.

Was this very special, tiny visitor putting on a spectacular aerial show just for me? Was she saying “thank you for helping me?” I truly believe that she was!

August 13th: The early morning has always been my very favorite time of the day. Still, my 4-month-old collie puppy, Christie, takes it to the extreme. She wakes up at 5:15 a.m., bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to have breakfast and play!

But there is a proverbial silver lining. My hummingbirds are also hungry early and while Christie and I “play” on the terrace, they are “dining” on the flowers in my pots. They fly all around us, so close at times that I can hear their distinctive hum and almost touch them. What an exquisite treat!

August 27th: It seems that this summer just flew by. One minute I was anxiously awaiting those lazy, hazy days, and the very next minute I found myself writing the last column of August. Did my puppy, Christie, take up so much of my time? Or did the cold, wet weather have something to do with it?

The unequivocal stars of my garden this year were the bejeweled hummingbirds. And while you cannot really call them “stars,” my big, loud bullfrog and my very vocal chorus of peepers made quite an impression on my nighttime visitors. Mama Turkey returned late in the season with only two poults and the ring-necked pheasant with his animated distinctive calls deserted me in July.

Catbirds, cardinals and American goldfinches dominated my feeders while George, the groundhog, was nowhere to be found. And each evening at around sunset, a 10-point buck peruses my garden while his subordinates—a pair of six-pointers—await his commands.

“Heaven” is the only word I can think of to describe my garden and the “wild friends” who visit!

September 10th: My collie puppy has made me fall in love all over again with the very early morning. To see our dark, clear, starlit East End sky slowly fade to a dusky dawn and to hear my songbirds awakening trill is truly awe-inspiring!

September 17th: My hummingbird has not been around these past few days and I suspect that she has already left for her long flight to Costa Rica. It seems that my garden is a little less magical without her.

October 15th: My flowers may be slowly getting ready for their long winter’s nap, and my hummingbird may have left for the warm and sunny clime of Costa Rica, but my garden is still surprising me with the most beautiful of gifts! Magnificent dragonflies and damselflies abound, skimming over the lilypads and dancing among the buff-colored inflorescences of ornamental grasses and the dark seed-heads of echinacea and rudbeckia. And their amazing colors—bright fuchsias, electric blues and iridescent greens—glittering in the sparkling fall sunshine absolutely fascinate me.

October 29th: Mother Nature, with her broad paint brush, has, seemingly overnight, transformed my garden into a golden wonderland filled with warm hues of orange, burgundy and rust. The birds of summer are gone and I am slowly welcoming back my winter friends—black-capped chickadees, tufted titmice, nuthatches and woodpeckers. Bright red cardinals and bold blue jays abound, their feathers gleaming in the autumn sunlight, adding to nature’s marvelous tapestry.

And as I walk along my woodland paths with Christie, my 7-month-old collie puppy, I am enjoying her fascination with the falling leaves, the twittering birds, and the scampering squirrels as they noisily gather acorns for their winter nests.

George awakens from his long winter's nap ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sun, 17 May 2009 12:32:00 +0000

George, the groundhog, came out from his long winter's nap. I had been anxiously watching for him since March ... and, of course, worrying about him. When the landscapers did my spring clean-up, they covered the entrance to his tunnel and I feared that George might suffocate. I did dig out the entrance immediately. But, on May 1st, I noticed a new "exit" so George is safe, fine and out and about!

Tommy turkey wanders aimlessly about my garden looking for his mother and his sisters. They are all off nesting, I suppose. I feel so sorry for Tommy. Yesterday morning I found him sitting on the doormat in front of my front door. I guess he's lonesome and just wants company.

I promised myself that I would write in my blog every day. Of course, I made that promise on New Year's Day but ... better late than never

The Last Snow of the Year ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 01:21:00 +0000

Tommy Turkey spent all day underneath the fir ... eating!

Hummingbirds ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Tue, 30 Sep 2008 22:24:00 +0000

I named her Rose partly because she is so beautiful and so delicate ... and partly because she reminded me of someone very special to me. She stayed all summer, thrilling me with her graceful flights and enjoying the nectar from all the special flowers I had planted in my garden for her. She visited several times a day, resting on dead tree limbs or my wrought iron pillars, and I couldn't help but wonder if her nest was hidden somewhere in my garden.

I hated the thought of her leaving ... migrating to Costa Rica ... flying non-stop, some five hundred miles, over the Gulf. When she finally did leave, I truly missed her daily visits.

And, then, today, I received another gift of nature ... another marvel ... or marvels ... four ruby-throated hummingbirds were in my garden enjoying my Agastache and my Spigelia marilandica, a beautiful native wildflower with wonderful tubular orange blossoms. They stayed for quite a while just enjoying ... but not as much as I!

A September Weekend ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sun, 21 Sep 2008 19:37:00 +0000

One of the "twins!"

This weekend was absolutely glorious ... in the low 70's, sunny and dry ... a weekend that I just don't want to end.

I guess my wild-friends felt that way too since they all made an appearance. The twin fawns and the turkey babies have really grown ... almost as big as their moms!

Millie, the bunny, is also getting big ... but, thankfully, not as quickly as the fawns and the turkeys.

My pond was covered today with a flock of bluejays ... a lot prettier and more colorful than the grackles ... and just as rambunctious!

I saw Rose, the hummingbird, earlier in the week. I wonder when she'll migrate. It is truly amazing that when ruby-throated hummingbirds migrate to Costa Rica they cross the Gulf ... some 500 miles ... non-stop!

My weekend was extra special because my son Michael came to visit. He cooked me an absolutely delicious dinner: pork chops in a brown sugar sauce, smashed red potatoes and green beans with a fresh-from-my-garden tomato and onion glaze. Yummy ....

John ... Millie's brother ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 00:10:00 +0000

... is much more cautious than his sister. He runs away the minute I open the door. I love seeing his white cotton-tail. He's enjoying the clover that I leave all over my garden as a special treat for my bunnies!

George ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 00:02:00 +0000

... the groundhog ... has rather unartistically begun the construction of his new home in my "artistic" herb garden. He gathers young peppers from my vegetable garden and seasons them with my aromatic herbs. He's very "at home" anywhere in my garden and tries to stare me down ... as if it's his garden!

Elise ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 23:36:00 +0000

... comes into my garden late in the afternoon ... around 5 p.m. She sometimes gets annoyed if I'm watering my plants ... I can hear her back in the woods stomping her foot and making that sort of deer "snort" to let me know she wants me out of "her" garden!

Elise is the mother of the twin fawns and it is truly amazing to watch her teach her kids.

Millie ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 23:30:00 +0000

A sweet baby bunny who lives in my garden and who, apparently, is totally unafraid of me. When I get really close to her, she just looks at me with those beautiful trusting brown eyes and continues eating. I keep telling her "Miliie, you've got to run away from me" but she just twitches her nose in that cute bunny way and continues doing whatever she's doing.

The Twins ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 00:07:00 +0000

A very special late July surprise ... twin fawns ... in my garden ... running carefree ... sniffing ... investigating ... curious little "wild-friends" ... running away from their mama ... but listening to her secret calls ... almost posing for my camera ... tasting lots of flowers ... just enjoying being ...

A Summer's Pond ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 23:35:00 +0000

Life on the East End is sweet ... particularly in the summer. The ocean breezes work their magic, easing the heat of the day and cooling the dark nights. The sun is so bright ... it dazzles and the nighttime sky ... well ... it is simply magnificent. I look upward each evening and am always awed and humbled by the beauty and brightness of the twinkling stars and the brilliance of the moon. It is almost as if I can reach up and touch them.

The wildlife here is abundant and the birds, both native and migrating, never cease to amaze. I am so very fortunate to have daily visits from "wild-friends" that I had previously only seen in books.

I will be writing more and posting pictures of all my visitors so stay tuned ...

A Winter's Pond ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 20:56:00 +0000

It's the first significant snowfall of the season and what a beauty it was! It turned a drab winter garden into a white fairyland ...

Amid the deer=prints in the snow, the brightly colored plumage of the cardinals and bluejays truly brightened a gray day.

Mr. and Mrs. downy woodpecker dined on both sides of my suet feeder, while a tiny wren combed the snow at the bottom for tidbits of suet.

My butterfly bushes were filled with juncos, their dark little bodies almost looking like buds, as they waited for their turn at the feeders that were covered with black-capped chickadees, tufted titmice and red-breasted nuthatches.

My robin was back, frantically looking for a holly berry he might have missed. then it was off to my cotoneasters which still have plenty of berries ... but I guess they are not as tasty as the holly berries.

And, of course, after they filled up on corn, my crow family yelled and cawed for some table scraps. And, I obliged with some leftovers.

What a difference a day makes ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 22:00:00 +0000

It's 5 p.m. and bitter cold ... cold enouogh for beautiful ice formations to form on the waterfall by the pond. I surprised the turkeys when I went out to fill up the corn feeders. They didn't seem particularly bothered though ... they just moved further back into the woods. Misty was with me but they didn't seem to mind her either ... although she was the one who alerted me that they were in the woods.

My feeders have been busy all day with chickadees, tufted titmice, doves, juncos, bluejays, crows, wrens and sparrows and what is this year's favorite ... the red-breasted nuthatches. The woodpeckers enjoyed the suet and a lone robin gobbled up my holly berries.

I was enjoying watching a cardinal eating the safflower seeds I had just put out ... his red feathers so bright and beautiful on this late and cold winter afternoon ... when out of the corner of my eye I saw something move ... it was my doe who pretty much comes at this time each day ... almost always alone ... but today two of her friends have joined her. Food must be scarce. I'm glad they know there is always corn for them here.

Yesterday was so different. It was almost 40 degrees warmer. In the morning, a magical mist enveloped the pond, and, with the morning sun rising behinds the pines and oaks, it was a most mystical morning. Just exquisite!

Around 10 a.m., I was visited by a flock of migrating grackles. In all my years of watching the birds, I have never ever seen a flock so large ... 500 or more. They were all over the pond, the feeders, the trees, the grass. Everything was black. There wasn't a patch of green anywhere. They have been visiting all week. They stay perhaps 10 to 15 minutes and then they all fly up in a gigantic swirling black mass. Truly amazing ... like something out of Alfred Hitchcocks' "The Birds".

Life is sweet ...

A Cold Winter's Day ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 23:47:00 +0000

It was a very cold, cloudy day here on the East End ... the kind of day I like to stay inside by the fire. It felt like snow and, I guess my "wild-friends" thought so too because, outside, there was a flurry of activity.

The resident robins, with their dusky red breasts not yet bright, came from their hiding places in the woods and devoured the purple berries on my callicarpa bushes. They haven't as yet started on the holly berries or the cotoneaster berries.

A large raucous flock of bluejays mobbed the sunflower seed feeders and the cracked corn bowls. Their beautiful blue plumage brightened a gray day.

The crows here are the biggest I've ever seen. I believe they call to me for scraps of food. They look directly into my windows and yell and then wait for me to come out and put some leftovers in the woods for them. As soon as I head back towards the house, they fly down from the trees for their dinner.

Two large bucks ran quietly along the railroad tracks that abut the edges of my woods, their white tails held high.

The turkey "family" returned after an absence of a few weeks. They were maturing and I had to laugh at myself ... You would think that, after raising three boys, I would have known, by their raucous behavior, that the turkey “family” I was nurturing, amid dreams of baby turkeys cavorting in my garden, was not a family at all but a group of “young studs”!

There were so many little birds in my garden ... wrens, tufted titmice, red-breasted nuthatches, juncos, chickadees, sparrows and woodpeckers ... they were zooming around at top speed, filling up, I guess, before the snow fell.

And the squirrels were so funny, climbing, jumping, performing like the dare-devil acrobats they are. I watched one test the ice that had formed on my pond and then decide to take his drink of water in a safer spot - a little nearer to the waterfall ... pretty smart little guy!

A little snow fell ... just enough to be pretty ... just enough to give my pond a sparkly coating ... and just enough make my wintry garden look like a fairyland.

Roses and Rice ... and everything nice ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Sat, 01 Dec 2007 01:51:00 +0000

I live in a wonderful little town on the eastern end of Long Island. My little "hamlet" is almost in a time warp. The "ladies" still bring homemade cakes and cookies to the historical society meetings and they have tea on the front porch.

Sometimes, if I'm out early in the morning, I might spot a kid actually riding a bike to school instead of taking the bus. And there are only 400 kids in our school. There's a bulletin board outside of our tiny post office decorated by the girl scouts. It's a sleepy little town filled with caring people.

There's a Village Green where old-fashioned concerts are held every Tuesday in the summer and a really patriotic concert can be heard on the 4th of July. People bring their blankets and sit on the grass. Kids run around and no one worries. There's almost no crime. Older gray haired couples sit on the park benches with their arms around each other. They call the rest of Long Island "up island".

And, next weekend, the resident Christmas tree at the Village Green will be lit, replete with Christmas carols sung by the girl scouts and steaming hot chocolate for all. But, I am digressing ...

Tonight, my little downtown, which is all of three blocks long, was resplendent all decked out in holiday lights, glittering and twinkling. And, Roses and Rice was certainly the crown jewel ~ filled with poinsettias, lush floral arrangements and unique gifts. What a way to begin the holiday season ... dear friends, wine, hor d'ouevres, beautiful gifts ... what more could I ask for ... and, of course, I came home with a beautiful swan family for me!

I feel as if I have finally come "home" ...

Wild Turkeys ...

maria@mariasducktales.com (Maria) — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 01:23:00 +0000

It is so very beautiful here on the East End of Long Island. I wake up every morning happy to be alive, thrilled to hear the magnificent songs of birds of all feathers, sizes and shapes. Before I feed Misty and Pablo, and before I even have my first cup of coffee, I fill the cracked corn dish on my front woodland path for the turkey family that visits several times each day. How exciting to watch them. How good to know that their reintroduction to the South Fork of the Island was successful and they are not only thriving but enjoying their breakfast on my front lawn!

I write a social column, "From Fourth Neck" for the Southampton Press and, from time to time, I do additional pieces for
"The Press Box".

The PRESS BOX

Wild Turkeys

By Maria Daddino

Early morning might be my favorite time of day, but this is ridiculous! It’s dark and cold. And here I am stumbling around on my front lawn, in my nightgown and robe, heading into the woods with a bucket of cracked corn.

Didn’t I make a promise to myself that I would never do this again?

I thought back to the blizzard of 1996, when, in the middle of that storm that dumped more than 2 feet of snow, I wandered around my backyard looking for my wild ducks. When I finally found them, they looked at me wide-eyed with disbelief. They had a “What is this crazy lady doing out in this blizzard?” type of look. They weren’t even hungry and were, seemingly, warm and cozy in their own little igloos, sheltered underneath the huge miscanthus grasses that I had planted by the dock.

As I trudged back up the hill, my arthritic knees buckling and giving way now and then in the deepening snow, I just hoped that I wouldn’t fall. No one knew that I was outside, and I didn’t think to take my cell phone with me. I could just imagine my kids sadly shaking their heads as they read the headlines: “Duck lady found frozen in the snow”!

After that debacle, didn’t I swear that I would never ever again be “enslaved” by any little creature, be it furry or feathered? This time, though, it all started rather innocently. It was August when I heard strange but somewhat familiar sounds—sounds that I just couldn’t place. Could it be “gobble, gobble” that I was hearing? Sure enough, when I looked out my window, two families of turkeys—two mothers with eight offspring of assorted personalities and sizes—were patrolling my back garden. I was thrilled.

What made my visitors extra special was that I had closely followed the story of their reintroduction to Long Island. By the early 1900s, the eastern wild turkey had all but disappeared from Long Island and, in fact, from the entire Northeast. In 1993, turkeys were reintroduced here and, like most of our East End visitors, they evidently loved the amenities of our Hamptons lifestyle.

Contrary to the critics of the reintroduction program, the turkeys made themselves right at home, thriving in our oak forests and dining upon such delicacies as acorns, nuts, grain, mice, shrews, insects, and sometimes even gypsy moths and ticks.

To have these special visitors coming daily to my garden for breakfast and dinner was an awesome experience. I imagined them walking and flying for miles just to get to “Maria’s 1-acre nature preserve.” I did my best to make them feel right at home.

Turkeys sleep high up in the trees and come down just after first light for breakfast. By that time, the deer have eaten all the cracked corn. And that’s how I came to find myself, in the pre-dawn hours on an early fall morning, tramping through my woods preparing breakfast for a family of five turkeys.

A few weeks have passed since that cold October morning and today, as I walked into my woods with my bucket filled to the brim with cracked corn—after all, it is Thanksgiving Day for “everyone,” and not just people—I reflected on the meaning, to me, of this most special holiday.

My dinner table will be overflowing with the bounty of our wonderful East End farms. My grandchildren’s big brown eyes will be sparkling with excitement when they see the great big turkey that will be the centerpiece of our Thanksgiving dinner. I will be surrounded by those I cherish and who are most dear to me.

And as we all bow our heads in appreciation of the abundant blessings we have received from above, I will be most thankful for family and friends, health and happiness, and for the very special turkey, the symbol of a plentiful harvest, that graces my table and feeds my loved ones.

I will also be profoundly grateful for the endearing little turkey family whose wild beauty fills my heart and whose very presence nourishes my soul.

Maria Daddino writes the “From Fourth Neck” social column for The Southampton Press Western Edition