|Pomeroy Hall, University of Vermont|
Photo credit: UVM
Last week two large birds perched atop the circular "fencing" on Pomeroy Hall's spire. Walking with my son home from school, I insisted we stop for a moment to figure out what they were. We shielded our eyes from the sun's glare, trying to get a better view. With broad shoulders, the birds were hawk-like for sure, but only their heads rotated, almost mechanical. Nothing else about them seemed natural. My eleven year old (who has an answer for everything) said, "Mom, they're not real! Don't ya know, it's one of those fake birds!" He meant those contraptions that are posted in berry fields to scare off scavengers. He was anxious to go home. I humored him and gave up the bird-spotting But still, I thought I'd have noticed these birds before—if they were fake—as we always take the same route home. Sure enough, later the birds were gone. I learned that hawks start their mating ritual in late winter. What I saw were most likely our common red tailed variety.
|Mourning Dove. Photo credit: Wikipedia|
|Roosting crows. |
Photo credit: Last Word About Nothing
And so, hallelujah, it's my season to start riding. We set our clocks ahead this weekend. If the weather holds the driveway at work will continue to improve—it's currently clear of snow. I have maintenance tasks to take care of on all my bikes, but they're relatively minor. Some are purely cosmetic. I'll tackle one bike at a time.
This weekend's weather promises to be in the 40s F. That's styling for us northerners still wearing our plaid woollies—indoors. I'll get in a few miles on the bike, building leg muscles, with one ear listening for the robins' song.