Turtle Rescue!

The bittersweet travails of turtle rescue.

New Neighbors

Sunday afternoon warmed up into the fifties and Kelly, who was just getting back from walking the dog, poked her head in the door. "Hey, do you hear that?"

I turned down the tv. "Hear what?"

"Listen, it sounds like wild turkeys fighting or something."

Getting up and stepping out back, I did hear it. It sounded like, well, two turkeys fighting each other. Strange, loud warbling and cackling.

Hmm. Wild turkeys mating or fighting = good pictures, I shrewdly gauged. In less than a minute camera was in hand. Checking battery level and settings while hustling by Kelly, baby and doggy; daddy plunged into the woods a' huntin'.

Pacing along the still-wet leaf clutter gently pushing aside prickly branches and side-stepping potentially snapping fallen twigs, all effort was made to advance as silently as possible. Course was adjusted with the occasional renewed warbling, which was now becoming more and more intermittent. At last, the sounds stopped altogether. I continued on more or less towards the last heard chatter.

The house was long out of sight now, I wasn't completely sure where I was and no more sounds had been heard for several minutes. A new direction was about to be taken when through the brush there was a gigantic old tree. It was easily the tallest around and it's upper half was leaning, almost precariously. And at it's base was an equally gigantic, dark opening.

The old tree trunk looked hollowed out. The opening was big enough to shelter a human, or two if needed. Or a few turkeys.

...or any other animal, for that matter.

Stepping forward even more cautiously, carefully placing feet upon mossy stones and fallen logs, stopping and proceeding, edging closer.

Then to the right of the tree there was a sudden movement. Something large and furry rustled off, taking it's time, into the brush. It didn't look scared, it was simply moving off.

I froze. My first thought was that it was fairly big. Big enough to be a bear cub.

My second thought: where's it's mommy.

Looking around in every direction, I started to backpeddle, ready to crash back through the woods if need be; gripping the camera strap and ready to swing it like a mace, if need be. Hoping Kelly had enough detergent to clean my shorts later, if need be.

Then, one last glance back at the tree before swinging around revealed a member of my potential adversary; peeking out from around the back, a cold fury in it's eyes.

A sigh of relief doesn't cover it.

A minute later the apparent matriarch also emerged and very, very slowly scaled up the tree-side for a better look at their visitor.

Not too knowledgeable in the ways of the raccoon; whether they were the mysterious warblers I don't know. But by the groggy way they seemed to be moving about, I suspect they were just waking up from hibernation. I backed off and left them to their business.

Heading back, it occurred that we'd better make sure the trash cans are secured; there'll be a reciprocating visit from them in the coming months, no doubt.

Transition

Around A Cold Quabbin

Before The Cloudburst

Some pics from a recent kayaking glide down the Swift River; crystal clear as always and splashingly cool in the humid afternoon.





Putting in at the Belchertown boat launch, I didn't go the whole way downstream into Bondsville as is usually the case, but rather stuck around the boat launch area, gliding a little bit upstream this time. Under the low overpass and towards the fly-fishermen area where the river crosses route 9.



The humid afternoon was threatening to give way to thunderstorms, so it was best to stay relatively close to the vehicle, should things get all lightening and hail-ey.



Luckily, there's no need to paddle for miles on this river to get a good dose of nature. There's plenty on the nearest bank and overhanging branch, if you look closely.





And look closely I did.





The dragongflies were all over the place. Sunning themselves between grabs for smaller bugs on the wing, or dive bombing the surface of the water for nymphs and such.



They seemed pretty preoccupied with their endeavours, and didn't seem to notice me too much as I got right up in their grille (as it were) with the camera.

Pretty relaxed in these fattest of days. It's summertime, and the livin's easy.



Higher up the food chain, some humans nearby were busy setting up a swing rope.



While man and beast glided by underneath in both directions.



A slight darkening of the sky, a few last minute bobs....



...and the first drops were being felt. Time to head back, and quick.

Belchertown Graze

As the sun broke on Sunday, I scooted out for a rideabout. There's some bucolic sections of Belchertown, (namely in the southern areas), that I've often driven through on the way here or there, but never really slowed down to take in.



Until now. This area is conveniently close to where I live one town over, and it was about time I stopped to smell the er, roses, as it were.



It was feeding time at a dairy farm that supplies a large local milk brand. As a life-long, major milk consumer, I was mighty glad to see that the cows looked happy and healthy. (especially after a recent viewing of the movie 'Food Inc.' ...check it out...)

I'll be sticking with this brand.



The terrain here appears to be mainly rocky pasture land, with stones still half emerging all over the place, and criss-crossed all over with those classic 19th century New England rock walls.



Thankfully many of those walls have persevered during a century and a half or so of housing boomage and/or neglect. I assume they were originally retained for their continued usefulness in marking off divided and subdivided property lots and possibly more recently, retained for their classic New England character and consequential boost in property resale value. I know that for one, I would love to have yard bordered by one of these...

Either way, the sheer amount of work that would be involved in dismantling the heavy walls helps their preservation. They just don't build them like that anymore.

In other cases, the walls still serve their original purpose holding back various farm animalia, some with a little additional help from electric fences.



There are plenty of horses roaming the broader tracts of land, and tucked away in a clearing is an old 4H clubhouse.



This is one of the few examples of those classic old farm windmills in our area, once used to pump water or anything else an enterprising farmer could think to harness wind power to...



I could be wrong, (and feel free to correct me if so), but there aren't very many of these left in the valley...



Other than old pasture land, the more obvious food production in this section of Belchertown appears to be the ol' apple. Though not as many as there used to be, there are still many orchards spreading up and over the hilly terrain, and there's one big section that appears to be owned and cultivated by UMass.



With the moon getting high and the sun getting low, it's time to meander back.



But with this beautiful space now fresh on my radar screen, it'll be on the short list for some return visits, maybe when the coming snow blankets the area...

First Coat

While working on Saturday I was driving through Northampton. It was too late to see this year's Hot Chocolate Run, which I heard topped last year's in participants. The streets had cleared by the time I drove through, but interestingly, there was a horse-drawn carriage making it's way down Main Street.



That's something new. Part of the new B.I.D. project, perhaps?

By nightfall, we were inundated with the season's first blast of white stuff.



But driving north on Sunday morning, it appeared that the snow didn't pile up too much, with some areas whiter than others. We were headed north to Hadley so Kelly could do some Christmas shopping, and decided to go via Belchertown to see how the mighty Quabbin was doing these days...



It is doing well, rest assured. Beautiful as always.





I was keeping an eye out for deer, as they can sometimes be spotted from the road, but none were to be seen. It's deer hunting season right now, maybe they were keeping a low profile...



With all the trees bare, there were some old house foundations and rock walls visible from the roadside. We made mental notes of where they were, to check them out when we come back more prepared for some hiking. We slowly did the road course from one entrance to the other, and back again.



Then on to Hadley...I rode shotgun, snapping scenery along the way. Pretty soon it will all be sparkling white, everywhere. And frigid cold. Winter hasn't even officially arrived yet...





...but it's time to brace for it and maybe look ahead, to far off Spring...

Final Fall Fair

The rain finally subsided, so we headed out for something to eat, and something to do. Hawley's Restaurant in Belchertown provided the first destination.



Great home cooked-type food. From there it was a short skip up the hill to the annual Belchertown Fair, being held at the town common. Yestserday's rains must have kept a lot of people away because today, it was jam packed.









We did a quick tour of the grounds, stopping in at various tents and exhibits. This young entertainer belted out a famous song usually reserved for more jaded adults...



We continued on, and stopped in at the grange hall for a look at some prize winning arts and crafts. Here's something to do with that old sneaker.



From the hall we stopped at a couple of the livestock tents to see some critters, like this big rabbit. This really big rabbit.



And this soft rabbit. This really soft rabbit:



A Velveteen Rabbit, as it's owner called it. I can see where it got the name, as the fur on him was plush. This young lady manages to make cuter one of the cutest animals in the farm world.



The chicken tent provided a good variety of fowl, from the well manicured and poised...



To the Keith Richards of the chicken kingdom.



Kelly noted that these guys must be nervously counting down the days...



The clouds throughout the afternoon were coming and going, but it looked like there'd be a good break in the rain.









The weather was certainly good enough for the oxen pulls. We found seats a little early, and settled in to witness the pregame show, featuring some of the up and coming farmer/oxen teams.



The main event got started, and looking around at the competitors, these bad boys looked like the ones to beat.



Not that the smaller teams shirked from the challenge. From what I could tell, the idea is that each team has three tries to pull the loaded sled each round. The distance is measured, and pulling more than six feet automatically gets you into the next round. Each team has a try at pulling the blocks, which begin at 3000 lbs, and more 1000lb blocks are added to the sled after each round, until only one team can pull the load, or pull it the farthest, for the blue ribbon.



With each one of those concrete blocks weighing 1000 lbs, that's four tons these two are pulling.



Here's the struggle to pull just 3000 lbs:



We were sure those two huge oxen mentioned earlier would carry the day, and decided to head off for one more walk around, before leaving. We've checked out several fairs this year, more than I remember ever going to in a single year. So it was a little bitter-sweet leaving this one, as it's probably the last we'll see until next autumn; so far away...