The Red Eft: Exemplar for Change

There were many great things about my childhood best friend. One of those was her family’s school bus that they had turned into a camper long before the word glamping was coined. They had painted it white with blue trim and jury-rigged calico curtains in its windows. We got to play in it in the yard which was a dream. We jumped from seat to seat with no bus driver to yell at us, pretended to drive it careening around corners at high speeds, and sometimes we just sat and inhaled that naugahyde smell.

100-Year-Old Hastings Farm Honored by State

Members of the Hastings family went down to Hamden on August 7 to attend Plant Science Day at the Connecticut Agricultural Experiment Station’s Lockwood Farm, near Sleeping Giant State Park. This is a big, yearly event, with lectures and demonstrations and meetings with experts, but this year’s highlight was when the family’s well-known Suffield farm on Hill Street was presented with the 2019 Connecticut Century Farm Award. This is a significant award, given each year to “a farm that has been in family operation for more than 100 years and has great potential to be successful for at least another 100 years.” The recipient is selected by the Connecticut Agricultural Council. This is the second time that the 70-year-old award has been given to a Suffield farm – the Coulter Farm earned it in 1998. Only one other Connecticut town has had two winners; that was Wethersfield.

Waldo… “Revisited”…

As previously reported, I first spotted the barred owl in late December during a freakishly warm spell, in a heavy rainstorm. He became a frequent visitor for almost three months. During that time I was surprised to learn that an almost supernatural creature of the night could bask in sunlight by day, arriving in the morning, and tucking into that favorite cozy spot to take advantage of the warmth of the rising sun. I was relieved but truly amazed that such a large bird of prey, in a winter season offering him very little food, would openly perch in a tree, over an active bird feeder but would still rather doze off than desperately hunt the songbirds or even the squirrels below. Then, at dusk, would fly away to hunt more favored but elusive prey.

Listen to the Mockingbird – “tweet tweet”

These days a few of my friends and I are participating in the Suffield bird census. We are clutching our lengthy list of birds hoping to check as many off as possible as we peruse all the open space we have here in our town. We rarely leave our houses without grabbing our binoculars, ears tuned to any bird calls which might reveal a new visitor hiding in the trees. More often than not, I have been hearing our mockingbird as he goes through his rendition of other bird calls, as they have been known to sing 200 different songs and when they exhaust their repertoire, they can even mimic car alarms. Many a birder has been fooled by his singing, but it wouldn’t seem right to have him silent. By this time of year, the mockingbirds are well-established in shrubs and thickets around town.