Some Days Are Diamonds (Some Days Are Stone) is the title of a song recorded by John Denver in 1981. That sentiment is certainly accurate and a dark gray day in early May was one of those diamond days.
Inside a deer resistant fence on the hill above the house are a few white trillium – descendants of several that, almost 60 years ago, I’d planted at my parents' house, then moved here after our house was built 50 years ago. The plants have to be protected from the white-tailed deer that have eliminated the species elsewhere in our part of the world.
After taking a few photos of the trillium I was heading back to the house when a male ruby-throated hummingbird landed in a small dead tree. He stayed in the tree and preened, made a few short flights and returned, presenting opportunities for a number of photos. The dull gray light toned down the often brilliant ruby-red of the feathers on his throat –
A bit later I headed for the Big Woods in search of migrating warblers. Although there was an abundance of ruby-crowned kinglets, there were no warblers to be seen and only one to be heard, an ovenbird singing it’s “Teacher, teacher, teacher” in the distance.
In the afternoon I headed for the beaver pond to change the memory card in the trail camera; nearby a pinkster azalea was in bloom –
Having taken that photo, I turned around and immediately saw an eastern coyote trotting past about 50 feet away – apparently it hadn't seen or smelled my camouflage-clad figure. A few squeaks through pursed lips caught the animal’s attention and turned it my way. Just time for a few photos before it turned again and trotted off through the forest –
Thus endeth a diamond day.