In the Woods Around Us

For many years I’d looked up the hillside, far above the road I subsequently traveled almost daily for several years. There, far above, was a rock outcrop that looked suspiciously like an old quarry. It was quite a way above what was a much larger quarry which was itself far above the road. I looked and looked, day after day, and finally had the time and inclination to make the climb.

So I found a place where I could park off the traveled portion of the road (barely off, but the road wasn’t traveled much), and looked at the cut-bank left by road widening many years ago, up I went, an adventure in itself. Above the bank was a faint, very steep old road, partially blocked by fallen trees, heading uphill toward the large quarry.

Up the old road I went, up and up to the large quarry. Sure enough it was an old flagstone quarry to produce material for the sidewalks of rapidly growing cities, probably opened in the late-1800s or early-1900’s and abandoned a couple of decades later. But this still didn’t get me to the upper outcrop (quarry).

So I circled above the quarry and found a faint track leading steeply upward, up I went and walked into a yet older, smaller quarry. There, laying on a slab of flagstone, among the dead leaves and twigs and moss, were a number of hand-forged quarryman’s chisels –

When were they left there and why did a worker leave them? Was the man who used these chisels injured on the job? Did he sicken and die as a result of the infections or diseases so common before modern medicine? Did he find a better-paying, less laborious way to earn a living and bid his chisels good-riddance? We’ll never know.

I brought a couple of the chisels back, and left the rest in place. If I could ever get to that quarry again, an increasingly unlikely accomplishment, I’d return the chisels, otherwise the ones I brought back will wind up at the local museum. The rest may never be seen by a human again since it’s doubtful if anyone ever climbs that lonely road – or even know it exists. Gradually the road’s being restored by time and nature – the chisels will soon be covered by fallen leaves and moss.

Another day and on another lonely hillside our son and I came upon a spring seep that had been the water supply for a long abandoned logging camp. Leaning against an ancient sugar maple was the blade of a two-man crosscut saw. We pushed aside some of the fallen leaves and duff that had developed from decades of decaying leaves and found what had been the camp dump – a few broken bottles, the fragile remains of rusted steel cans, the head of a maul used to split firewood for the camp’s stoves and a few rusted and broken parts of one of those stoves.

The camp was near the grade of a long-ago logging railroad; from an old map it seems that the area was logged in 1916 when the hemlock was cut and peeled and it’s bark transported to a tannery. Contrary to popular belief, those hemlock logs were not left to rot. Bark could only be peeled in late-spring/early-summer, the logs were later shipped to a sawmill and made into lumber (see this post).

Our son took the splitting maul, which he still uses almost 30 years later to split wood to fuel the stove that heats their house. He says it’s the best splitting maul that he’s ever used – a big thank you to the long-ago blacksmith that made it.

His father took a piece of the broken stove – it’s embossed “Grand Times” –

Life in a 1916 logging camp would have been anything but grand although, if it was like most logging camps, the food would have been abundant and good. But the loggers would probably have slept two to a bed, sharing lice and flatulence, rising early and working harder than anyone does in the 21^st century.

The anonymous loggers who lived and labored there are long gone. Although an occasional hunter may walk the old railroad grade, it’s doubtful if anyone drops over the steep hillside to stumble upon the site of the logging camp.

How much more unknown history involving nameless and forgotten people remains in the woods around us?

 

Happy Holidays to each and every one -- see you in the New Year

October Above the Yard

In October the camera trap on the hill just above the yard captured fewer videos than in the past. There were videos with raccoons and opossums and white-tailed does but, with exceptions, those usually aren’t particularly interesting.

However there’s always something interesting in the natural world, and these are the most interesting videos from October.

They start with a gray fox with a kink in its tail, possibly from a broken bone; the fox then makes repeated appearances. The gray fox is followed by a red fox carrying prey; the red fox also appears again.

Some folks express difficulty in distinguishing red and gray foxes in black-and-white photos or videos: the gray fox is stocky with fairly short legs and a black stripe on the top of its tail; a red fox is more slender with longer legs and the front legs usually have a black stripe on the front.

The foxes are followed by the first of several striped skunks; the first has its tail upright, ready to spray its defensive scent, something must have startled it or an unseen fox got too close.

Late October is the height of the rut for white-tailed deer and bucks from away make an appearance as they pursue does that are local residents. It appears that seven different bucks spent time in front of the camera. Two young bucks are seen sparring, a real fight between bucks involves much more violent pushing and shoving and one of the combatants occasionally receives a mortal injury – as described in this post.

Here are October’s videos –

The bucks and the red fox were eating the apple cores and peels that we put in front of the camera, if they’d been put in our compost pile the same critters would have eaten them but you wouldn’t have seen videos of the “feast”.

A Pair of Preening Peregrines

It was a beautiful morning down along the river: crystal clear, blue sky with a few fluffy white clouds, 45° with a stiff breeze. And there, in the tree where I’d seen them off and on for years, was a pair of peregrine falcons. Both birds were vigorously preening their feathers, a fitting activity for a species that is, if not the fastest bird on earth, then the second fastest.

The tree is a black locust not far from the riverbank, within sight of both their nest site and the place where they spend their nights. This pair has apparently been together for several years; as in most birds of prey the female is the larger and in this case she’s noticeably darker than the male, making them easy to identify. When I saw them the female was on the right side of the tree, the male on the left, but they were somewhat obscured by branches –

After maneuvering to a spot with a better view of both birds I began taking both videos and still photos –

A branch cast its shadow on the female and her head was usually hidden by another limb, but the male was in a good spot as he spent some time nibbling on one of the tree’s seed pods –

For the entire time I’d been watching and photographing the pair, I’d been wishing I had my longer lens, so I unlimbered the cellphone and called H to ask if she’d bring it to where I’d parked. Then I began walking back to the car and arrived moments after that nice lady pulled in. After trading cameras and lenses I returned to to the peregrines and found that they’d both moved from one side of the tree to the other, in essence they’d traded places. More photos and videos were taken, between the two cameras 1,233 in total.

The female peregrine continued to preen, giving special attention to her feet, and repeatedly opened her mouth as wide as it could go, apparently she was trying to cast a pellet of indigestible material (feathers, fur and bones) as do all hawks and owls –

While the male seemed to nap as he covered his eyes with their nictating membrane – 

 

After an hour and a half of watching and photographing the peregrine falcons, and futilely waiting for them to take flight (I wanted to take photos of them flying) the camera's battery was down to 9% and the spares were at home, so it was time to leave.

Ralph's Feeder

Ralph was a friend of mine: and of other photographers, mechanics, hunters, politicians and shopkeepers. Back in the 1970s and 80s Ralph knew more about Pennsylvania’s elk than any other human, even wildlife biologists. It was Ralph who first introduced me to the elk herd in the mid-1970s when there were only a handful of elk (perhaps fewer than 60) in Pennsylvania. Over the years he wrote three books on the elk herd, a history of Elk County and a history of the 50,000 acre Quehanna Wild Area he was also featured in a film about the elk herd. Ralph died in 2015 when he was 87, Pennsylvania's elk lost a champion and we lost a special person and true friend.

But I digress, this post was meant to be about a bird feeder that I first saw hanging in an old apple tree in Ralph’s yard in Dent’s Run. While it vaguely resembles several other designs, I’ve never seen another like it. Did Ralph come up with the design or did he see it somewhere? I don’t know.

I like the simplicity of this feeder and the fact that it can be made of scrap wood by anyone with a minimal collection of tools. The chickadees, titmice and, especially, nuthatches seem to favor Ralph’s design.

 

The first “Ralph’s feeder” that I made was small and made from a salvaged white pine board. The latest, which was made from scrap plywood, is large and holds about a gallon of sunflower seeds – hopefully enough to last about a week while we’re on a trip –

The dimensions of the largest –

The slanted sides are made from ¼ inch hardware cloth (galvanized wire mesh), the feeders hang from a hook made from a wire coathanger that passes through both the top and bottom of the feeder where it’s bent at a 90° angle. The lid is held in place by two cleats that limit its movement. Filling is done by lifting the lid and temporarily turning it sideways.

These feeders are by no means squirrel proof or even squirrel resistant, but they’re inexpensive and easy to make.