Rosslyn Redux

Tag: Rosslyn Safari

  • Kamikaze Wild Turkey: The Gallopavo Imbroglio

    “George, uh, when you get a chance, can you give me a call? A, uh, a turkey hit your door last night and, um, it knocked the door off its hinges…”

    A turkey? What? The voicemail had popped up on my mobile while I was riding to the airport in Antigua following ten days of sun soaked family relaxation. I wasn’t ready to go home much less hear that our house had been broken into by a wild turkey.

    The connection was poor, the roads were bumpy, and the suspension was complaining.

    I replayed the message.

    Doug’s voice was tired and faltering, but it was the unlikely message, not the connection or his delivery which stumped me. A turkey broke down our door? What?!?!

    Turkey Tale with Fishy Facts

    I called Doug back as we bumped along. He answered and dilated the unlikely facts. The story was even more perplexing in long form.

    A 23 pound wild turkey smashed through our mudroom door at around 8:30pm on Saturday night. Literally knocked the door right out of the wall, shredding the doorjamb and trim in the process. The alarm went off and New York State police responded to the call, immediately dispatching a trooper to the house. He was so surprised to discover the door blasted off the hinges and a dead turkey sitting on the threshold that he called in the police sergeant. Neither of them had ever experienced a break-in quite this bizarre before, so before long two troopers and one sergeant (plus an investigator by telephone) collectively unraveled the most likely circumstances and documented the incident. Photos were taken. Our caretaker, Doug, and our housekeeper, Lorri, witnessed and brainstormed the incident with the police and then the entire house was searched for evidence of any foul play. They found none. Apparently the turkey smashed the door down but didn’t manage to get into the loot. Or even the bar!

    Doug confirmed that he had repaired the door temporarily to secure the house, and he had kept the turkey to show me when I returned. Did he want me to cut it open?

    “Why?”

    “I heard shots in the back meadows the day before. And the next day. Maybe somebody shot the turkey?”

    I had my doubts. “At night? Who hunts turkey at night?”

    “So get rid of the turkey?”

    “No. Not yet. Let me talk this through with Susan on the flight home. I’ll call you when we land.”

    When I hung up my bride who had been listening intently barraged me with questions. Chief among them — and reiterated in several different manners before I had a chance to respond — was the same question that loomed ominously for me too. How in the world could a turkey knock a robust exterior door right off its hinges?

    I failed to adequately answer her questions or assuage her concerns. We fussed and worried, allowing our imaginations to inflate the surreal scenario nearly to bursting. By the time we landed in Newark I had decided to hightail it north to Essex the next day by train rather than driving north a couple of days later after my bride completed work commitments in Manhattan and New Jersey. I’d also decided that Doug’s idea about the wild turkey being shot might make a strange sort of sense. I couldn’t wrap my mind around a turkey, no matter how large, breaking and entering. And Doug’s mention of shots distressed me. Foul play?

    At the very least this wild turkey tale smelled fishy.

    Training to Scene of the Crime

    I called Doug from the train to let him know I was on my way north and then followed up via email with a few people who’d already gotten wind of the turkey mystery.

    DL: How is the turkey soup?

    KS: I heard about your turkey burglar…

    TD: Wow, I think that turkey was flying fast and hard… Sorry about your door!  There must be a bad joke here somewhere?

    DW: What?? Why would a turkey even do that? Truly stranger than fiction!

    MD: A turkey??! Literally? That’s a hell of a turkey!

    Me: Turns out the guajolote was 23 pounds. Literally knocked an exterior door right out of the jamb… the alarm was tripped and the artillery arrived to sort through the giblets. NYS Troopers consider it one of the most unique break-ins they could remember.

    NH: Shock Horror! Was turkey acting under its own volition or was it being wielded? Was turkey cold? Is house on the site of an old turkey burial ground?

    JK: Did you and Susan eat it, doorkill, housekill, randomkill, however it is labelled? Fricasseed, à la king, roasted, curried? Or did you just throw it out… Please do answer my query about the guajolote (wonderful Mexican word) so I can sleep in peace.

    Wild Turkey Evidence

    Needless to say, the old bird was beyond eating condition by the time I arrived in Essex. I snapped some photos and asked Doug if he were really willing to cut the carcass open to look for shot. He was. And he did, but found none.

    This confirmed the original hypothesis. The wild turkey had most likely been ambushed by coyotes in one of our back meadows. Most of the feathers had been pulled off of his legs and a large wound in his breast suggested a coyote attack. The turkey escaped despite his wounds. But his adrenaline ran out (or his injuries simply got the best of him), and he crashed into the door, striking at precisely the spot where the top hinge attached the door to the jamb. We discovered that the contractor had failed to adequately secure the jamb to the surrounding frame, and the combination of sloppy construction and a heavy, rapidly moving projectile had been adequate to shatter the jamb and knock the door in.

    Incredible.

    But true.

    Eastern Wild Turkey

    It’s time to learn about the Eastern Wild Turkey (Meleagris gallopavo silvestris) which is a familiar critter in the Adirondacks and one of the most abundant examples of wildlife in Rosslyn’s meadows and woods.

    Wild turkeys have excellent vision during the day but don’t see as well at night. They are also very mobile. Turkeys can run at speeds up to 25 mph, and they can fly up to 55 mph. (National Wild Turkey Federation)

    When mating season arrives, anywhere from February to April, courtship usually begins while turkeys are still flocked together in wintering areas. (National Wild Turkey Federation)

    Two major characteristics distinguish males from females: spurs and beards… Soon after birth, a male’s spur starts growing pointed and curved and can grow to about two inches. Most hen’s spurs do not grow. Gobblers also have beards, which are tufts of filaments, or modified feathers, growing out from the chest. Beards can grow to an average of 9 inches (though they can grow much longer). It must also be noted that 10 to 20 percent of hens have beards. (National Wild Turkey Federation)

    Kamikazes and Banana Republics

    Our kamikaze wild turkey had apparently sported an 18″ long beard (removed by Doug’s son by the time I took the photo), and his spurs were at least an inch long. Whether or not the old boy enjoyed a final mating ritual before crashing into Rosslyn’s mudroom door will remain a mystery, but I’d like to believe that he did. The love of his life, the real deal…

    The next day the shots rang out behind our carriage barn, but I realized that they were coming from Essex Farm, an adjoining property where gunshots are about as common as a cinematic banana republic. My concerns about wild turkey “jackers” evaporated as I settled in to accept the latest chapter of our Rosslyn safari.

    And lest you need a visual jumpstart to help you imagine coyotes’ appetites for wild turkeys, I’ll close with this short video from a stranger who would probably sympathize with our Gallopavo imbroglio.

    What’s your verdict? Can you believe that a kamikaze wild turkey was behind this Rosslyn breaking-and-entering scenario? Dubious? Share your hypothesis below!

  • Adirondack Autumn 2012: Part I

    Adirondack Autumn 2012: Part I

    As I mentioned recently, Adirondack autumn invites retrospection and introspection. But don’t fret, today’s lilt is less wistful. Levity is restored and whimsical iPhoneography is the flavor or the day.

    With September and October skulking away and November slithering in, I’m dishing up a photographic retrospective, a parade of annotated images gathered “on the fly” over the last few months.

    Viewed en masse they offer a voyeuristic immersion in the lifestyle which binds us to Rosslyn, Essex, Lake Champlain, and the Adirondacks. Most of these images were shared through my personal Twitter feed (@virtualDavis) and/or the Rosslyn Redux twitter feed (@rosslynredux), and their creation and distribution was made possible by the narcotic genius of this virtual symphony: iPhone, Instagram, Instacanv.as, Tout, and YouTube.

    Timber Rattlesnake killed on Lakeshore Road in Essex, NY on August 22, 2012.
    Timber Rattlesnake killed on Lakeshore Road in Essex, NY on August 22, 2012.

    This first photo was actually taken in August, but I couldn’t resist including this unsettling image. I came across this freshly killed three foot long Adirondack timber rattlesnake while cycling along Lakeshore Road near Essex. The blood was fresh and the rattle had been cut off.

    Although I want to believe this near-black Crotalus horridus was accidentally hit and killed by a car, it prompted a serpentless September rattlesnake safari, and catalyzed much conversation with friends about our local population of timber rattlesnakes. How can we protect them?

    I’ll share rattlesnake news if/when relevant. For now I’ll move over to the autumn harvest. Given our hot, dry summer it was been a phenomenal year for most locally grown produce.

    While we began flirting with frost most nights in September (earlier than the previous two years), tender vegetables like tomatoes were still coming out of our own garden and our local CSA, Full and By Farm, owned by Sara Kurak and James Graves.

    These “ugly but delicious” heirloom tomatoes from Full and By Farm tempted me despite the fact that we’d been giving away and composting excess tomatoes since August. Too many, too fast. I’d been eating 2-3 tomatoes every day for lunch and dinner. Literally. I’m not exaggerating.

    When I posted the picture of these yellowish orange tomatoes on Twitter and Facebook, several friends insisted that these tomatoes weren’t ugly. True. They were voluptuous and vibrant and even a quick glance discloses the explosion of flavor they pack.

    But many of the heirloom varieties that we grow in our vegetable garden and the Full and By farmers grow are often referred to as “ugly” simply because they lack the uniformity of color and the blemish-free skin of the hybrid varieties usually sold in stores. In fact, the “uglier” the variety, the better they usually taste. One of my favorites, Black Krim is a perfect example. I wish I had posted a photo when they were still producing…

    These hot, hot, hot peppers (early Adirondack autumn colors?) were part of our farm share pickup for several weeks.

    I don’t tend to use many hot peppers in my cooking (and I grow several varieties in our own garden) so I haven’t been loading up on these, but I find them beautiful. Beautiful! I’m always amazed how naturally glossy and polished peppers and eggplant are. And the green/red mottling is exquisite.

    If you scratch and sniff the photo, you just might understand why the farmers remind us again and again, “Those are hot!”

    And what better complement to those exotic peppers than a not often witnessed artichoke blossom.

    We grew Imperial Star Artichokes for the second time this summer. Last year we successfully propagated and matured a half dozen plants. But the result was only a few smallish artichokes. Lots of effort for negligible reward, but I was encouraged to try again. I’d never even known that we could successfully grow artichokes in the Adirondacks.

    The discovery  was made in the fall of 2010 while visiting the gardens of Château Ramezay in Montreal. I was astonished to see the thriving plants, and immediately began researching. It turned out that Imperial Star Artichokes are productively grown as annuals in Maine and other parts of the Northeast. We vowed to try to our luck.

    This summer we had nine plants of which two never produced artichokes but the other seven each produced multiple artichokes. Several plants produced five to ten artichokes apiece. We’ve felt truly fortunate each time we’ve harvested artichokes for lunch or dinner. Can believe that artichokes are yet another highlight of Adirondack autumn?

    In fact, so abundant were the artichokes during August and September that several began to bloom before we could harvest them. The photograph above nicely conveys the part-sea-anemone-part-fireworks blossom of an Imperial Star Artichoke. A favorite of our Rosslyn honeybees.

    Adirondack autumn is also the perfect time for sailing on Lake Champlain. Although my bride and I have mostly concentrated on windsurfing in recent years, I often find myself gazing longingly at larger sailboats gliding gracefully across the water.

    For most of my life I’ve dreamed of a swift sailing vessel large enough to live aboard and wander from port to port, slowly gunkholing my way around the world with occasional blue water crossings between continents. I even have a name for my ship. And her dinghy. But I’ll keep them under wraps until the time is right.

    This handsome navy blue sloop was in the neighborhood for a few days, repeatedly cautching my eye because of its minimalist but handsome design. Elegant when drifting in a light breeze and even more so when scudding through whitecaps riding a stiff blow!

    Although I’m aware that my critics may justifiably accuse me of bellybutton gazing each time I post a new image of Rosslyn’s boathouse, I simply can’t resist it. This architectural folly has enchanted me since childhood, and now that I have the opportunity (and responsibility) to care for her, I’m all the more smitten.

    This photo was taken at dawn after a forceful windstorm (an unwelcome hand-me-down from Hurricane Isaac) that loosed one of the Adirondack chairs from the deck and dumped it into the shallow water of the beach. We were relieved to recover the chair because it was a handmade wedding gift from a close friend. Though one armrest was shattered, we will repair and repaint it this winter so that it will be ready to enjoy again next spring.

    And, as if hurricanes weren’t enough, a short time later we were warned that a tornado threatened! A tornado? It does seem that extreme weather is becoming more and more common.

    Only a couple of days before, Camp Dudley, a boys camp in Westport, NY where I spent a couple of memorable summers as a boy, was hit by an destructive windstorm that damaged roofs and snapped trees.

    This moody black and white photo of the dockhouse was taken in the hours awaiting the tornado. Anxious hours.

    Fortunately we were spared the worst of the tornado, but our good friends who own a home north of us near Valcour Island were not so lucky. They lost a towering old growth tree and their boat docks were tossed and somersaulted out into Lake Champlain. Fortunately nobody was hurt and the docks were able to be recovered.

    In a similarly ominous vein, this photograph of Rosslyn’s waterfront not only conveys the foreboding of stormy weather but also of summer passing. Or at least that was my hope. You’ll have to be the judge.

    The lighting and the shading suggest an antique photograph (thanks to a handy iPhone app which allows limitless technical control over the image elements) while the angle and unpopulated Adirondack chairs and beach add an eerie, abandoned feel. As if a seasonal camp or resort is about to be mothballed for the winter.

    There’s irony in this, of course, because Rosslyn is our home. Once our summer guests depart and Essex village slows down, we experience a second wind. We are revitalized. But that story for another day…

    Although we have several times hunkered down in anticipation of severe weather this fall, we’ve been been spared each time. And each time the skies have cleared to reveal blue skies and sunshine enough to warm our optimism. And even the occasional wild turkey feather. Check out this bumpy but fun video of twenty turkeys in Rosslyn orchard.

    I’ve walked the property after these storms to survey fallen limbs and other damage. Each time I’ve been relieved with the minimal damage. We’ve lost many branches and leaves, but few trees. Perhaps this is due to some sort of cosmic payback for the damage to our fruit trees this spring when a powerful hailstorm destroyed an ancient crab apple and killed seven young fruit trees in our orchard.

    Chief among my concerns when the winds howl (or the snowstorms dump, dump, dump) is our carriage barn which is overdue for a new roof.

    When an old barn collapsed at Full and By Farm a couple of winters ago I started looking more critically at our historic carriage barn. Although it is in surprisingly good shape for its 100-200 years, the structural elements of the post and beam construction are under-built by modern standards. There are several areas where settling and sagging cause concern, and we’ve been moving forward with plans to secure the building and replace the roof.

    If all goes as planned, construction will begin soon and we will be spared another anxious winter worrying that the snow load will overcome the proud old building. I will post updates if/when this project advances.

    The perils and challenges of severe weather for homeowners with aging property are plenty, but there’s little pleasure in fretting. And there’s ample pleasure in celebrating the harvest, so I’d like to return to the topic of harvesting, preparing and preserving the vegetables of our labors.

    But I’ve already droned on ad nauseum, so I’ll save further harvest updates for your next installment… Stay tuned for Adirondack Autumn 2012: Part II.

  • Bald Eagle Omen

    Bald Eagle Omen (Credit: Melissa Davis)
    Bald Eagle Omen (Credit: Melissa Davis)

    I share with you a bald eagle omen, courtesy of my mother.

    Bald eagle by your boat house. Saw this elegant creature as I went to massage and he was still there when I returned. May be a sign of something good? ~ Melissa Davis

    Rosslyn’s boathouse is often frequented by bald eagles, hawks, and other raptors, but I’m choosing to embrace my mother’s most recent sighting as an important symbol.

    When an eagle appears, you are on notice to be courageous and stretch your limits. Do not accept the status quo, but rather reach higher and become more than you believe you are capable of. Look at things from a new, higher perspective. Be patient with the present; know that the future holds possibilities that you may not yet be able to see. You are about to take flight. (Source: pure-spirit.com)

    I’m digging deep, summoning courage, and shifting my perspective!

    From eagle we learn that life looks different from an aerial perspective. We need to take a new view on the challenges in our lives. If we don’t readily find solutions it may be because our vision is too limited to see the solutions that are so glaringly obvious. ~ Ina Woolcott (Source: Shamanic Journey)

    It’s time for a fresh vantage point — personally, professionally, politically — so I’m grateful for this bald eagle omen. I’m reminded that my vision may indeed have become too limited, too myopic. Time to shift and amplify the view. Time to prepare for flight!

  • Friend or Foe: Yellow Garden Spider

    Yellow Garden Spider (Source: Geo Davis)
    Yellow Garden Spider (Source: Geo Davis)

    Meet our Yellow Garden Spider (Argiope aurantia). This morning this awesome arachnid greeted me from a flower bed planted with Shasta daisies, lupine, and irises. She’s dazzling and, I’ll admit it, a little daunting.

    Is she friend or foe?

    Yellow Garden Spider

    Although I’ve come across these visually impressive pest predators before I needed a little refresher. Here’s what I found.

    Yellow garden spiders are large, orb-weaving arachnids, meaning they spin a circular web… In females, the top side of the abdomen is black with symmetrical patches of bright yellow. The legs are reddish brown at the base and black toward the tips. Males are less striking in appearance—they are smaller with brownish legs and less yellow coloration on their abdomens. Females average 0.75 to 1.1 inches (19 to 28 millimeters) in body length, which is up to three times larger than the males. (Source: National Wildlife Federation)

    Obviously a female, this yellow garden spider was definitely on the laaarge end of the spectrum.

    If you look closely you’ll see a zigzag pattern woven into the web. I wondered about that. A repair?

    The web of the garden spider contains a highly visible zigzagging X-shaped pattern called a stabilimentum. The exact function of the stabilimentum is unknown, but its purpose may be to alert birds to the presence of the web so that they don’t fly through and destroy it by mistake. (Source: National Wildlife Federation)

    Wow! Clever spider.

    By Any Other Name…

    It turns out this savvy lady has intrigued her bipedal admirers enough to inspire a parade of names (Source: Wikipedia) including:

    • yellow garden spider,
    • black and yellow garden spider,
    • golden garden spider,
    • writing spider,
    • zigzag spider,
    • hay spider,
    • corn spider, and
    • McKinley spider.

    I think that my favorite is “writing spider”. Time for a little etymological archaeology to disinter the backstory for that name. 

    Lest your onboard warning system went into high alert when your eyes distinguished the yellow garden spider from the iris spears and other distractions in the photograph above, I have some good news.

    These spiders may bite if disturbed or harassed, but the venom is harmless to non-allergic humans, roughly equivalent to a bumblebee sting in intensity. (Source: Wikipedia)

    While few of us favor a bumblebee sting over, say, a slice of refreshing watermelon on a hot August day, it’s far from lethal (for most of us, anyway). So, despite the yellow garden spiders arresting appearance, you may consider her a friend rather than a foe. Especially if you’d like to prevent pesky insects from eating your plants!

    I close with a curious coincidence. A neighboring farmer shared his discovery almost concurrently. They. Are. Everywhere.

  • Fox Tracks, Foxtrot & X-Country Skiing

    Fox Tracks, Foxtrot & X-Country Skiing

    Fox Track & Ski Tip
    Fox Track & Ski Tip

    An inch or two of fresh powder and bluebird skies above lured me away from my desk on Monday for a mid-morning x-country ski outing with my lab.

    Hooky!

    Crisp but otherwise perfect conditions were the enticement; fresh fox tracks (I think) were the unanticipated reward.

    Griffin, my water and snow loving labrador retriever was quick to find the scent of a recently visiting fox. Sniff, sniff, sniff.

    Judging from the single line this fellow was doing the foxtrot, not just wandering aimlessly.

    Foxes walk or trot in an alternating pattern, with prints nearly in a line. In shallow snow, foxes may trot in a two-print pattern or gallop in a four-print pattern. Dainty, oval tracks (2.3 to 3.1″ long) usually show small triangular foot pads, claw marks, and foot drag marks. (wildthingsultd.org)

    Tracking a Foxtrotting Fox

    I x-country skied all through Rosslyn’s meadows and woods for about an hour, and Griffin lunged giddily along, sending great colds of powdery snow up into the air. And throughout our adventures we kept crisscrossing the path of our foxtrotting friend. The fox tracks periodically followed my ski trail from the previous day, and at other times veered off on their own course. And yet throughout the 30+/- acres we were exploring the foxes tracks returned again and again.

    There’s a pleasant geometry in x-country ski trails, and the linear perfection of the fox tracks added to it, at times creating the illusion of a loosely interpreted argyle pattern across the undulating fields.

    Of course, Griffin was eager to pursue the fox tracks, but he mustered the focus to stay on course with me. And the reward was an extra long, extra fast workout for both of us.

    Here are few more photos from our outing.