After work this evening, I walked out to get the mail; and what do you know–the redwings are back. First red-winged blackbird sounds of the season, trilling from the marsh, just made my day. Enjoy! (Scroll down on the Cornell page to hear their sounds yourself.) http://www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds/BirdGuide/Red-winged_Blackbird.html
The North Country Rail Trail in Westchester County. Randy and I have the day off, since it is President’s Day, and we took advantage of that to do some spring planning. Actually, this was our anniversary outing. Even though we’ve been married for 36 years, we’re still not too geezery to get on the bikes. This will be our next ride. It’s about 25 miles long, running north to south, nearly to Manhattan. Happy Anniversary, Randy! (No, we didn’t ride today–the wind chill is in the early 20’s, and we’ve been there, done that in Idaho.)
Congratulations! I always knew you would do it. (And I’m not talking about these splits, either.)
Though this photo was taken 2 years ago, the deer were back this morning, doing their routine trimming job on the shrubs that line the driveway. At first they just wandered down the street, all 8 of them, trying to decide whose shrubs needed trimmed the most, I guess. I’m fixing to name them, I am. When the snow was all crusty, it was interesting to follow their trails. I haven’t seen the holstein deer for a while, though. In spite of the ticks they bring, I like them around, though they are looking a bit mangy. Our snow is nearly gone; we’ve had a warm few days–even up to 50 at times. The deer love it because once again it’s easy pickins.
Seacacus Transfer Station, Jan. 30th, about 4 p.m. Randy and I have a routine–he calls me from the train he boards in Hoboken, and tells me what car number he’s in, on which train. Sometimes I barely have time to get to the platform before he arrives, but usually I allow myself time to breathe a little in Jersey. Ha! I wait on the platform, having written the train car number on the back of my left hand, (yes, I’ve had people comment on that) and when the train arrives, he’s there, behind the middle vestibule, about 5 rows back, waiting.
Friday’s day in the city was unusual. I attended a meeting with about 100 hostile people–so hostile, in fact, that the New York Times covered it. The head of the volunteer department at the museum had been fired the week before, and I think the museum underestimated the passion that the 1000+ volunteers held for their fallen leader. I fully expected shoes to be thrown. Only a body of volunteers could speak so passionately, so freely, so angrily without fear of retribution. It was amazing. You gotta love New Yorkers.
The Gates in Central Park, by Audrey. We finally had it framed, Aud. Interestingly, the wall it is hung on is not blue, though it appears so. Thanks, my sweet!