NEARLY AT THE END

I slowly floated past the black crowned night heron juvenile that was perched on a branch looking cold and miserable and thought, would I ever see him and his sister again.

I've seen both of them each and every time I've floated down this river together every morning or afternoon that I've been on this water.

She waited cautiously in a tree croaking occasionally for her brother to join her or to fly off and away from the white boat that seems to always disturb their solitude.

 He fluttered up to a higher branch and alighted gently and stared down at me.  They normally would fly off together keeping the trees between themselves and me but, today they hesitated and tolerated my presence as if they understood something was different, and it was.
Today is the last day I would be on this river in an official capacity and I was searching intently to see if I could find all my wildlife friends that I've come to know since arriving at this wonderful wildlife habitat.  I used binoculars to search the undercut banks and drove the boat slowly the length of both shores in order to catch  glimpses of the ones who have made my Summer here such an education in nature.  The entire day was overcast and chilly with water temperatures averaging 47 degrees and the critters were spending their days deep in burrows or behind protective foliage.

The beavers and otters would share warmth with their like kind on platforms above the waterline in burrows dug deep in the river banks and would not be emerging until nightfall when I've been long gone.  I understand but I'm disappointed at the same time.  This part of the river and it's shorelines are home to a host of amazing creatures that are not found on any other river I know of.  They are all represented here - otters, beavers, mink, muskrat, snakes of several varieties, bald eagles, red tail hawks, sharp shinned hawks, sharp shouldered hawks, black crowned herons, green herons and on and on.  All these fantastic creatures can be appreciated by simply floating down this short length of river and all one has to do is look and ---- see.

The afternoon went by quickly and I wanted to go past the eagle's mountain once more.  The eagles weren't there on my first pass earlier in the day.

But, one of the bald eagles was there now, a tiny white fleck on the brown of the mountainside.  I guess I wanted one last look at these monarchs, these great birds that I have gazed in awe on practically every visit to these waters.  They've become more like "my eagles" rather than just bald eagles.  Of course, no bald eagle is just an eagle.  Each one is precious and special and these were mine.  

 You haven't lived until you've looked a bald eagle in the eye!

 And so, Sir Harry, may you and your's fare well and I prey the sun will warm your face and the wind always be at your back.  I'll stop again in the Spring and you can introduce me to your newest children.  Until then - dance on the clouds and dazzle all those below you and live long, my friend.

INTERRACIAL DUCKS

I wasn't going to make an entry tonight but I thought I'd post a couple shots of two ducks I ran into today on Cherokee Lake.  I have no idea where they came from, how they got here or if they'll stay but, they both were unique, friendly and pretty.  I named them Blackie and Flathead.

Blackie is one of the most beautiful ducks imaginable.  His colors seem to change with the varying intensity of the light.  He's quite the handsome fellow.

These ducks are, well, I'm not sure.  They appear tame yet they are here on this big lake.  Were they cast away Easter ducks or are they an aboration of nature?  They were not afraid so it's obvious that folks have been tossing bread crumbs to them.  They swam right over to my boat and I thought they were going to jump on deck.  

I had to walk back to the truck to get my coat and I remembered the bag of cat feed I keep for critter emergencies I run into in the field. Cat food is great for these guys and will at least give them some protein and vitamins.  Bread won't do them much good.
Who is Flat Head you wonder?

Flat Head is also a gorgeous fellow.  The beak is the brightest orange and he or she is snow white.  So, what's with the flat head routine?  Look below.

Now you get the picture.  I've seen a lot of ducks in my life but none with a perfectly flat head.  I like it.  Different!

The flat spot is not seen unless he is viewed from the side.  

I tossed cat food pellets into the water and they went nuts.  If these were wild ducks I'd never do that but, I doubt they can survive on their own out here as it is my firm belief that someone has dumped them at this dock thinking they were doing these guys a favor.  If these ducks can figure out that minnows are good to eat, they might be alright.  I'll keep an eye on em over Winter.

A flock of geese flew over just as I pulled away from the dock.

The afternoon was hum drum, as usual on this rock lake and Shade and I pulled over on an island to split a peanut butter sandwich.

                                                                      Sweet Baby

 I'd like to know where her deformed ear came from.  Born with it I guess.  It doesn't matter as she's beautiful to me and my best friend.  The ear is noticeable when the two pictures are compared.

Cherokee Lake is a boring place but I hope things will energize tomorrow because I'm on the river in the afternoon.  Maybe some critters will be out.  See ya then.

WOODTHRUSH RIDGE BEAVERS

The title says this is about beavers and I post robin pictures.  Why not?  I noticed enormous flocks of robins this month down here along the lakes and in the heavily forested areas.  This is part of their Winter tour from up North and happens annually. The unique thing is that one couldn't buy a robin throughout the Summer months around East Tennessee.

 These two guys caught my eye and I thought they'd make a neat picture or two.

Here's one in a berry bush pigging out:

When I came to Tennessee and settled in Greenback back in 2004, I stayed in a warehouse behind a business owned by a lady who worked in dog rescue.  That's where I discovered Douglas, the love of my life (Golden Retriever).  I actually lived in that warehouse for about seven years and part of my rent responsibility was mowing and making repairs on her 40 acre property that was comprised mostly of mountain side with a house on top that sat on about 4 acres.  A tiny creek flowed at the bottom of the mountain on one side and exited her property by flowing under a country road known as 92 South through a concrete overpass (culvert).  I guess there was about 5 acres of flat land that bordered that little creek that I mowed paths through to gain access to bird houses on posts that served primarily as blue bird houses.  The area consisted of tall, native grasses and was habitat for all sorts of critters including deer.  Weeds isn't a word I've heard in the South because Southerners refer to weeds as natural grasses and it's an accurate appraisal of the tall greenery found down here - for the most part.
Just recently a pair of beavers have found their way onto this property and built a beaver dam.  The excitement over this occurrence is beyond description because this property owner is very much in love with dogs and any and all wildlife on this planet and these beavers were very welcome.  Incidentally, Woodthrush Ridge is the name given to this wonderful, beautiful 40 acre property by the owner.

The lack of color makes the dam a bit difficult to see in these shots but it can be discerned with careful inspection.

The beaver's den is not apparent and I am guessing they are staying at the one end of the dam until they eventually build a lodge - probably in the Spring.  This dam is located about a hundred yards from the road, Route 92 South, where the culvert is.  The problem that has presented itself is that these little guys are trying to build a dam across the culvert and that's a big no, no.  If they are allowed to accomplish that, the county will intervene and harsh action will ensue.  The property owner has torn down the beavers efforts to build at the culvert numerous times but the industrious beavers instantly act to rebuild their dam.  It takes a hours to tear away the carefully placed sticks that would close the stream off from the culvert by the property owner but, the beavers have it all replaced by the following morning.  

It is indeed difficult to really see detail in these shots.  Summer will be better for photographing these fellows and their efforts.  These animals are fully nocturnal as they've not been seen as of yet.

Below is a shot of the pond they have created.  I used to mow this.  Amazing.

How sweet is that?  It's illegal to tear down beaver dams or lodges in this state and this is private property so, as long as these fellows stay where they're at they'll enjoy a very good life and provide interesting pastime for an animal watcher after they acclimate themselves to the area and settle down in comfort which will allow them to feel safe moving about in the day time.  I have some ideas to rectify the "dam at the culvert" issue which I shall present to the property owner.  Something tells me I'm going to get my hands involved with this project over time.

THIEVES, WIND AND RIVER PRETTIES

Beech Creek had a cold, lonely appearance this morning with it's muddy water, colorless surroundings and gray skies.  I think I'm over this season called Winter.  I could see the sun trying to poke through the heavy layer of gray that was the ceiling of my morning.  

The hawk tree that sits atop the hill bordering the boat ramp parking lot was empty, an unusual sight at this hour in the day.  Usually there's a red tail hawk perched in that old tree but I guess even he would rather sit on a limb protected by heavier forest.  And Ah, the sun finally shines through.

The fog is starting to lift off the water.  You have to remember that I'm on site prior day break and it's cold and foggy at that hour.  As a matter of fact it's still very cold and my finger tips are almost numb from handling the wet bow line of the boat.

The sun poked through really fast and lit up the lake with the softest light.  The special brilliance wouldn't last very long though - not today but, it reflected the sky off the surface of the water perfectly.

Three rapid shotgun reports reminded me that it was duck season.  When the guns arrive on the water - all the critters disappear so I knew I wouldn't see any wildlife this morning.  It's just the way things go this time of year.  I also knew I wouldn't see any fishermen either.  Duck hunters and fishermen have a conflict of interest when on the water simultaneously.   But, my task is not to assume that no anglers are on the water.  Part of my job is to put eyes on the water and document what I see.
A trusting coot made his way among the water plants, trusting that I was a friend and acted unconcerned, although I noted his red eyeball turning toward me from time to time.

Well, well - it seems that there is another beaver family on the water.   There are new cuttings on the island and one or more of the beavers has attacked an enormous tree.  Just look at the effort they have made.  These beavers are gnawing on this tree after dark or I would have pin pointed them.

Look at the pile of wood chips lying about at the base of the tree.

I noticed a group of coots while travelling down the lake from the beaver tree and one duck stood out from the rest.  I should know what it is but I couldn't find it in the bird books I have or, at least I saw no illustration that matched.  He has a buff color with a dark buff at the back of his head that comes forward to meet the back of his eyes.  A gadwall possibly.  This duck is the only one of his kind on this water.  I've driven over the entire river section and saw no others.  He's a very pretty fellow indeed and he had better not venture down stream for that's where the duck hunters have their boats camouflaged and decoys set.  Who could shoot this pretty guy?  Duck hunters, of course.  He's really far upstream and I feel he is safe.

What a gorgeous duck!  Ducks are migrating now and the river here receives visits from all species of ducks, some quite rare.  I know the common ducks but this one has me guessing.  I'll find out.  I watched him until he padded back into the grass and dead cat tails and then he was gone from sight.  I'm actually glad of that, for his own good.

The wind has picked up force and there's actually waves on the water.  I'm happy that my time here today is near an end.  The temps never did get very warm, maybe 40 degrees in the sun.  It's been an uneventful morning, thank goodness as there have been many vehicles robbed here at Beech Creek since the holidays.  

Thieves have broken into vehicles in this parking lot every weekend since Thanksgiving, last Sunday the latest event. The parking lot is strewn with glass broken out of cars and trucks as the robbers ravaged the vehicles.  It isn't over as the duck hunters have lots of accessories locked up in their trucks and that is presenting a temptation to the robbers.  Funny thing - the thieves will not steal a cell phone or a GPS.  They know they can be tracked if they take those items.  Very clever fellows those highwaymen.  The local towns of Rogersville and Surgoinsville are both experiencing a huge drug problem and both places spawn these thieving miscreants.

It's now 7:30 PM and the wind is howling loudly outside making me keep looking at the ceiling half expecting to be seeing stars from the inside of the house any minute. Fingers crossed.  Oh well - roofs can be replaced I guess.

  

SOME BALD EAGLE FACTS, A RANT, AND OTHER STUFF

They personify America, don't they?  When one looks at a bald eagle one thinks patriotic thoughts, and images of a bell with a large crack down the side comes to mind -  Minutemen, Redcoats, muskets with bayonets and long rifles held by men facing down a steep hill at a sea of red uniforms massing below them.  Yes, the bald eagle is The United States Of America's mascot and more.  To gaze upon the Majesty  of this bird is a look deep into the heart of America and suddenly one realizes pride in country and  the history that brought us all to the present day comforts most all Americans enjoy today.  To watch one of these grand marshals swoop and soar in the sky represents the freedom that only Americans enjoy.  And, to look straight into an eagles face - into his eyes - the message of look but don't even try to touch is conveyed back to the watcher.  When the needle sharp talons grasp and pierce the prey, and it is carried high into the sky, the visual message is to be certain of the enterprise and strike swiftly, surely and defend with might.

It's difficult to believe that our government would allow this honored bird of prey to fly into harms way and not lift a finger to prevent it.  Actually, the current government has only recently removed protective measures around wind farms that prevent eagles from flying into the rotating blades.  I guess it costs money to install protective shields around the windmills and wind farms and industry has lobbied congress to allow them exemption from providing these protective measures.   So, congress has given industry, the people who manufacture the wind machines, a 30 year moratorium on the installation of equipment to protect birds from collision with the rotating blades of the windmills.  In short - the eagles will be knocked from the skies, maimed and killed for the next 30 years.  How many eagles do you think will be knocked from the sky and killed over a thirty year period?  Here, let me help you.  The answer is thousands.   Does Congress really care about wildlife?  What do you think?  The industry lobbyists have lined the pockets of the politicians with contributions if they would be able to duck the additional costs of the guards and shields around these "most important" wind farms, the future of our countries energy.  And, so goes the politician following the bag of money down the political path to wealth, in this case at the expense of our eagles and, all birds really.  This is a Liberal move and I might add that Republicans backed it and Obama gave his blessing.  What chance does wildlife have in a political climate like this.  Is wind really the future of Americas's energy?  One dead bald eagle isn't worth all the damn windmills on earth to me.  I'll let this drop right here because i get very emotional about eagles and I'm very, very disappointed that our Congress is so impressed by money and power that they'd sacrifice our nations symbol of freedom over a bunch of windmills.  But then, evaluate what our current dictators have done to "our" freedom already.  Possibly the black vulture would be the appropriate bird to represent our current dictatorship in Washington.  No, no - I miss spoke.  I don't want to give black vultures a bad name.

Bald Eagles were on the decline between the 1700's and the 1960's due to habitat loss, hunting, pesticides and pollutants - DDT the most important.  The populations started increasing since the DDT ban in 1972.  Currently, bald eagles have been removed from the federal list of threatened and endangered species in 2007.  It is not protected by the Endangered Species Act any longer.  However, the bald eagles are protected under the Bald Eagle And Golden Eagle Protection Act and The Migrating Bird Act which prohibits the killing or harming of the eagles.  That all being noted and understood - then, how in the world can windmills be operated, without proper protective measures installed to protect the eagles?  How can Congress create these wildlife acts stating emphatically that bald and golden eagles are protected from harm and still remove the very protective measures that keep them "from harm?"  It is so frustrating!

I can attest to the fact that today is Friday the 13th.  Yep, sure can.  I was at the boat ramp just at sunup this morning in a very cold 30 degrees and was thinking "what am I doing this for?"   Oh, ya, it's my job.

I mean it was cold!  I rolled up the wet bow line and my fingers became useless immediately after and I reached for the heat packs that Anne sent me last year for Christmas.  Those things are the best Christmas gift!.  Thanks Anne.  I opened up the last two I have and popped them in my gloves and instantly felt the warmth flowing over my fingers.  Shade was laying in the 50 degree water and I thought, "how in the world does she do that?"

The sun was coming up with a less than spectacular sunrise but, I'd take it and the heat that would soon follow.  As it turned out the heat didn't come until I was ready to get off the lake.  I just got the boat back after some major engine repairs and needed to run it to red line at least once to check it out and, so I did.

Seems to be running fine but, someone unhooked the "smart gauge", a gauge that reads the condition of all the important functions of the engine.  I got part of it fixed but I can't tell how the engine is trimmed unless I look back at the engine to determine visually how much it's tilted.  Seems no one is thorough when they repair anything mechanical these days.  It's all hurry, rush, move on to the next job and get the money, money, money.  At least the original problem is fixed.

The morning progressed and I only saw two other boat on the water.  I remember thinking how nuts they are to be out here until I remembered I'm out here too.  I chuckled and headed to the truck.  It was here that I was reminded it was Friday the 13th.  
I idled in toward the shore and killed the engine, allowing the bow to coast up to and touch the mud, rocks and gravel.  This is Cherokee Lake, by the way.  Shade jumped off as did I and we quickly walked up the ramp to the truck.  I slid the key in the door lock and jumped in and fired up the engine.  I looked down the ramp to see the boat had floated off the shoreline and was about ten feet out to sea.  My heart dropped.  I backed the truck down the ramp as fast as I could but I was too late because there was no way I could reach the boat, and the water was 50 degrees and impossible to wade in.  "Well, there it goes Shade."  She just stood beside me and stared out at the water.  What a pair we must have looked like.  I sat down on a rock to determine where that boat would wash ashore.  Plenty of rocks to sit on.  Plenty.

Above is a view of the ramp from the opposite side of the water - obviously.  The water was very calm back here in this cove and the boat moved very slowly across and down the water.  I saw where it probably would alight on the opposite shoreline.   I'd have to walk about 1/8th mile up my side of the shore (right side of picture below), cross a little stream (way back where the left and right shorelines meet in the pic) to the other side and then jump from rock to rock down to where the boat would hopefully get hung up on the rocks (down the shoreline in the left of the below shot).  That little stream was too wide to jump and too deep to wade.  I had to go up to the woods and find a bare limb to use as a balance for crossing a line of rocks I saw in the stream.  Whew!  This is tough.  After negotiating the rock bridge and planting my feet on the other side and sinking to my knees in mud, we started a rapid walk down the other shoreline toward the boat.  Fast walk is an understatement because it was solid boulders and hopping from boulder to boulder is a better description of how I had to travel.

And so, the shot above is the way I found the boat.  Had to jump rock to rock beside the boat and finally reached the deck.  My cameras were on the boat when it drifted away from the opposite shoreline or I would have had the precious moments recorded.  I can't say enough how much I detest and abhor this body of water.  It is the Devil's spawn and I despise it.  But, the jobs fun.  Make sense?  I thought not.

I had a piece about some sandhill crane facts but chose to hold off until another entry. This entry about my ordeal today plumb wore me out writing it.  Yep - it's Friday the 13th alright.