Determination: Crows are Not Nice

OK. Update. Suppertime. Seriously - this little melodrama is lasting all day!

Yes, Suppertime. It ain't over.

We watched the clock throughout the afternoon. Two Crows would appear every 10 minutes and harass the Owl for 10 minutes, maybe 20, and then fly away. But then, 10 minutes after leaving, they would show up again and bark and screech and swoop and shake and sharpen their beaks on a branch....everything they did was loud, intimidating and downright frightful.

Throughout the day we kept wondering - why doesn't the Owl fly away and hide while the Crows are gone? Pride? Is it sick? Worn out and tired? Avoiding a nagging wife at home?

If you look closely, you will see a blob in the middle of the picture. That blob is a Great Horned Owl with big beautiful eyes that seem to apologize for bothering us. He's sorry for causing all the ruckus, and asks us to please go in. He'll be fine.

Above and below the Owl in the middle, you can probably make out two Crows. These Crows are mean. These Crows are like maniac rednecks in beat-up-four-wheel-drive-rusted-Ford-pick-up-trucks doing doughnuts around your scared little Teenager lost on a back road in the middle of nowhere... They won't actually hit you, but they'll come within inches, and they'll scare the bejeezuz out of you, screeching and screaming and making you dizzy.

All right. So who won today's contest? Who's harrassment? Who's persistancy? Who's aggressive behavior? Who's obnoxious taunting? The Hawk's? The Crow's?

Or wait...

Maybe we should ask: Who's patience? Who's tolerance? Who's big-eyed apologetic look that says, "Hey, I'm sorry, I may have overstepped my boundries last night, stole a few more eggs than I should have... but hey, I'm not a predator, I didn't attack you, did I? I am a pacifist; just please, let me sleep and I'll be gone in the morning.....?"

So....Who won today's WWF Aviary Stand-Off?

And the answer is....

Darkness.

The sun set. The crows did not return. The Owl flew away.

I'd almost give this one to the innocent-eyed Owl, acting all sweet and kitten-like. But I've read about Owls. I've read about how devious and cunning Owls can be. Don't be completely fooled...

Owls are not sweet little innocent kitty-cats... Owls are smart and cunning killers. Something must have happened last night. Something must have gone on. That Owl may have done something to really p-off these Hawks and Crows. We've seen the Owl here before, but nothing like this has ever happened that we've seen.

As for involving the Blue Jays? Nah, I believe Blue Jays are just blue trash and they jumped in for the antagonistic fun of it.

But the Hawks were serious. This sweet looking, big, bad, evil omen must have done something; something to really upset a couple of visibly, determined Hawks. But the Hawks are important in these parts. They own the Trees and the Skies. They are like one step down from an Eagle. You don't f-with a Hawk if an Eagle isn't around. Hawks are bad-ass and busy and know who they can count on to do their dirty work.

I figure, speaking as a blurry picture-taking-Junior-Psycho-Hawktologist, I think the Hawks were totally peeved at something the Owl did. And the next morning, once the Crows were done with scavenging roadkill, the Hawks pointed out the Owl and hired the Crows to torment this Owl all day for whatever it did earlier that night.

We may have witnessed the initial contract ourselves, when we saw the Hawk screeching loudly as watched the Crows split up and leave in separate directions - only to see the Crows return 20 minutes later with a renewed vengence. And those Crows returned all day long. Seriously says a particular Wife who likes her peace and quiet during Law 'n Order reruns. It was All Day Long. And those Crows were so loud and annoying. No wonder Crows have raspy voices.

It is dark now and the Crows have roosted. The Owl has flown. The Blue Jays are hiding and resting somewhere, looking for another Poker game to get into tomorrow...Anything is possible, right?

Aviary mayhem...



Crows are mean...

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Wild Kingdom

This Morning's Cup of Coffee

Can you hear all the racket?

I'm sitting out back, Matthew on my lap, trying to figure out what in the world is so important in the animal kingdom this morning.

Two Screeching Hawks.
Three obnoxious Crows. And I mean they are really loud and obnoxious Crows. We've got three big black Crows that sound like twenty!
Add two screaming Blue Jays.

Our backyard is aviary mayhem.

Even woke Michele up. "Don't you have a BB gun?" were her first words.

One Hawk sat in a tree screeching. Two large crows aggressively circled and bounced from limb to limb, trying to out scream the Hawk. A third Crow remained back, but loud and boisterous. They actually were very intimidating.

A second Hawk appeared and remained around the perimeter - loudly announcing his presence, flying from nearby tree to tree.

At one point, this Hawk swooped through the trees, down low through our backyard - within about 20 feet of Matthew and me. It's wingspan looked like 10 feet across and it’s claws looked about 12 inches long! I could even see the red beady glare in its hateful eyes.

OK OK It is easy to exaggerate when a Sparrow Hawk appears to be attacking you and your two-year-old son. I would never make a very good reporter for National Geographic. (National Enquirer? maybe)

Michele, our Backyard Resident Hawk Psychologist, deducted there must a Crow's nest up there and they are trying to get rid of the Hawk. Very possible. The second Hawk flying the perimeter, did seem to be trying to draw the Crows away from the first Hawk. We studied the group of trees and couldn't find a nest, but we figured something had to be nearby to cause this much commotion.

I grabbed a second cup of coffee and waited for feathers to fly.

The crows left. Two in one direction, the third in the opposite direction. One Hawk remained in the tree and began to screech loudly. The second Hawk continued to swoop the tree, but land among the outer trees.

A few minutes later, the Crows returned - as if the loud screeching Hawk had been taunting them, daring them to return. That is me playing Junior Crow Psychologist.

I studied the trees again and to my surprise, I found what all the hoopla was about....

I've read that Indians believed seeing an Owl in the daytime was an evil omen...

Apparently, Hawks and Crows and Blue Jays also feel the same way and are trying to rid our backyard of a big mean, evil Owl.

Staring down at us was a rather embarrassed, apologetic Owl, looking like a kitty stuck in a tree, not knowing what to do, but willing to stay put. It's head cocked downward, it's big ol eyeballs staring down at us.

Who would of thought?! An Owl? Causing all of this?!

This ruckus started about 7am this morning. I've been through a pot of coffee and it's now past noon. The Hawks and the Crows and the Blue Jays have not given up. The Loudest One Wins? They've gotten within a couple of feet of the Owl, screaming loudly, fiercefully, annoyingly; trying anything to get this Owl airborne and out of "their" tree.

We kind of feel sorry for this little guy. All awake in a tree, when he should be sleeping. Somebody is going to be awfully tired on tonight's shift!

Michele armed herself with baseballs, hoping to rid the trees of the Crows. They really are amazingly loud, annoying and becoming rather aggressive. I asked her what she would tell the doctors when one of the baseballs landed our son's head and we had to take him unconscious to the Emergency Room?

Never before seen: Action Photo of Swooping Hawk by World Renowned, Blurry Backyard Photographer, Carl Emerson

Nature is pretty cool. I don't feel like I am sitting in my backyard. This feels more like I am off in the woods; hunkered down in a blind, deep within an uncharted forest. (albeit, comfortably in my jammies with a hot cup of coffee) Nature being nature. Raw, untamed animal instincts being witnessed by an unseen explorer. Predators. Scavengers. Hierarchy within the animal kingdom.

When you think about it, this is powerful stuff. Sure, it's just our backyard. It’s just a bunch of squawking birds. There are homes and roads and schools nearby. But there is a whole new perspective for me now - it's a whole new world up there - 40 or 50 feet in a tree. Just call me Marlin Perkins.

…Some mornings, it can be so much more than just a bunch of squawking crows waking up a particular wife. It’s also a pretty cool way to spend with your boys and have your coffee in the morning.

(One last note: At 12:19pm, a member of the homo sapiens species, Michele, joined the Crows and Blue Jays in the Loudest One Wins Contest, and bellowed from across the house, “ENOUGH ALREADY!!)

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My Grammy Towel

"My Grammy Towel"

I found this unpublished post from 2010. So I clicked on it. Just yesterday, I told Matthew I wished Grammy had met him, and wished he met Grammy. I'm glad I found this. ......

I need to Confess...

I hope if you are family and you are reading this, you won't be upset.

I took Gram's dish towel....

I kind of feel like I stole it, and I didn't tell anybody...


It was still damp and I didn't tell anybody.

In my mind, I think of this dish towel as the last thing she used before cleaning up, like Gram would do, before calling our Mom and then the ambulance because she didn't feel well..

To me, it's like a piece of her that is still alive. Still damp. Set on the counter, next to the sink, because it's "only a dish towel" and it wasn't something historical or meaningful to be divied up between family...

I almost cried when I saw it, and I kept it. I hope that was okay....

Gosh, I hope you don't mind.


For years now, whenever I cook something special, I throw My Grammy Towel over my shoulder. Whenever I play in the kitchen and hope something new will come out special? I have My Grammy Towel over my shoulder.

Anything regular? My Grammy Towel is not used.

And to be silly in her honor - if I am just cooking regular ol' Pork Chops, I'll use My Grammy Towel because nobody could dry out pork chops like our Grammy!!

I don't know if this blue flowered dish towel meant anything to her, but this dish towel, this dish towel with the blue squares and the white flowers and the checkerboard border, is the most special, the most prized part of my kitchen. Dammit Grammy, I miss you so much.

I wish you could've met Matthew - I can't keep him out of the kitchen when I cook! He's all in my feet, between the cupboards and my legs, trying to squeeze into the action. Oh Gram, you'd just love him!

Your towel... writing this brings Big tears, Big smile, all at the same time.....

I know it sounds crazy to feel guilty for taking something as trivial as a dish towel.....But Gram, this dish towel means more to me than anything you'd ever realize!

Tidewater Park and Dutton Island

Tidewater Park & Dutton Island

A Favorite Walk and a Little History

When we first moved here, I strapped David in his car seat, and we went exploring. We drove aimlessly; exploring the Intracoastal, taking back roads and dirt roads, looking for that "secret spot." I quietly hoped us New Englanders wouldn't get shot at by some redneck cracker hillbillies in the swamp cooking up a batch of moonshine.

We discovered two parks along the Intracoastal, that have turned into favorite places of ours to go for walks, kayak and take pictures.

In our area, the St. John’s River is a portion of the Intracoastal Waterway; a safe and somewhat protected waterway spanning from Maryland to south Florida. The St. John’s is also known as the River of Lakes and one of the few rivers that flows South to North.

Along the waters of Northeast Florida and throughout North Central Florida lived an American Indian people known as the Timucuans.

Tidewater Park sits along the St. John’s River, hidden and quietly nestled along busy Atlantic Blvd., and a congestion of homes along A1A North. However, once you step out of the parking lot and onto the planked walkway amidst Pines, Marsh, Palmettos and Oaks, it is easy to transcend into the peace and tranquility of the Timucuan landscape.

A mile or so north is Dutton Island, which has a very similar landscape. Walkways and paths along the St. Johns River are nestled among towering trees and dense scrub. Snakes, egrets, possum, fox, otters and turtles are hiding from view - especially from a particular loud 5-year-old and 2-year-old with shoes that light up at each step. Woodpeckers, Osprey and other bird life have already flown in every which direction. There is a put-in for canoes and kayaks, as well as a marked water path throughout the mangroves, connecting you to Tidewater Park.

Did you know that the Opossum has the most teeth known to a furry animal and that the Grey Fox is known to climb trees?

Spanish Moss hangs like feathered boas and non-native vines fill most voids. It is every shade of green and quiet. So vibrant and beautiful on one hand, yet it is dense and suspicious. Shadows are black and the water is uninviting.

The black mud looks walkable, but it is so dark that it makes you think it would suck you in like quicksand and hold you just long enough for that yet-unseen alligator to grab a hold of you…it is much easier to admire the waterline from a distance says a particular Dadman.

“Get closer,” says a particular Wife…

The Timucua were a semi-agricultural people and ate many foods native to North Central Florida. They planted corn, beans squash and various vegetables as part of their diet. In order to plant, they used fire to clear the fields of weeds and brush. They prepared the soil with various tools, such as the hoe and a two-pointed stick called a "coa."

I know what you are thinking, but seriously, I chose this illustration because it depicts women planting in the fields using the "coa."

The Timucua also cultivated tobacco. Their crops were stored above ground, in granaries to protect them from the insects and weather. We see no evidence of tobacco growing in the Jacksonville area today. Sadly, we neither see women planting the fields as depicted above with a stick called a coa. I'm sure there would be much more bonding time with my boys if this was to change. We'd be hiking all the time.

The Timucua men would hunt game, including alligators, manatees, and possibly even whales. They would also fish in the many streams and lakes in the area, and collect freshwater and marine shellfish. The women gathered wild fruits, palm berries, acorns, and nuts. Women also baked bread made from the root "koonti." Meat was cooked by boiling or over an open fire known as the barbacoa. This is the origin of our word "barbecue."

In 1564, French Huguenots led by Rene Goulaine de Laudonniere founded Fort Caroline and attempted to establish further settlements along the St. John's River. After initial conflict, the Huguenots established friendly relations with the Timucuans.

The next year, in 1565, the Spanish surprised the Huguenots and ransacked Fort Caroline. Pedro Menendez de Aviles and his men, killed everyone but 50 women and children and 26 escapees. The rest of the French, who had been shipwrecked off the coast, were picked up by the Spanish who executed all but 20 of them. This nearly ended French settlement in Florida.

The Timucuan history changed after the establishment of St. Augustine in 1565. Spanish missionaries established missions in each main town of the Timucuan chiefdoms.

By 1595, the Timucuan population had shrunk by 75%, primarily from disease and war. By 1700, the Timucuan population had been reduced to just 1000. In 1703 the British with the Creek, Catawba, and Yuchi Indians, began killing and enslaving hundreds of the Timucua. Seventeen years later their number had dropped to just 250. By 1752 only 26 Timucuans remained.

Spanish explorers were shocked at the size of the Timucua, who could stand four inches or more above them. Most Timucuan men wore their hair up in a bun, increasing their overall height appearance.

According to the conditions of the bones and teeth found, the population had been chronically stressed. Timucuans were also heavily tattooed. The people of higher social class had more elaborate decorations, which were made by poking holes in the skin and rubbing ashes into the holes. The Timucua had dark skin and black hair. They wore clothes made from moss and cloth created from various animal skins.

By the time the United States acquired Florida in 1821, there were only five or fewer Timucua remaining. They are now extinct as a tribe.

Tidewater and Dutton Island are an easy escape into nature, history and family time together. It is fun to discover "hidden" places like these.

And one thing we've learned when the boys get too far ahead?

All you have to say is, "Watch out for snakes!"

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