Fledglings and Eggs

Wandering away from the trail yesterday morning, I saw a small movement in the shadows and went off to investigate as I always do, wading through deer flies, dense brambles and leafy thickets to reach the place where there had been a small winged agitation. Sitting comfortably (and perfectly camouflaged) among the prickly junipers under a gnarled maple was a fat freckled infant robin, intent on pretending that she (or he) was invisible, and that I was somewhere else entirely. The little robin's siblings were safely perched high on a branch nearby, but the parents were frantic and hysterical and making no attempt at pretense whatsoever - I clicked one fast and fuzzy image and departed quickly.

As we were closing the gate for the night, the hen turkey who is incubating her clutch of eggs in a deep hollow by the cedar along the fence appeared as if by magic from the shadows under the tree. She flew off up to the oak groves on the ridge to feed on catkins and last autumn's acorns, so I observed the old horation maxim of carpe diem and captured a hasty photo of her nest and eggs. Fourteen little turkeys will be racing about in the front meadow in a week or two, and how I love the thought of their first happy explorations.