Little Blake Lake

Since we're free spirits and self-employed, we get to define our weekends. This past week, we decided the weekend began on Sunday and didn't end until Wednesday morning. That way we got things done (like Nancy's planting in the courtyard) at home and had an extra day for our weekend at the lake.

Birds were the stars of the weekend, although they were mostly shy and out of camera range. A pair of barred owls were noisily flirting in the woods. (Remember, it's spring and flirting, courting, and mating are important.) One or more of the eagles were showing off fishing skills out in front of the cabin. They do like to perch in the big pine trees along the shore.

A pair of loons put on a noisy courting show on the lake Sunday afternoon. Vocalizing and splashing, they chased each other, stopped and paddled furiously to rise out of the water, spread their wings, and show off the white feathers on their breasts. They only quit when one of the resident owls glided silently out of a lakeside tree and across the lake just above their heads.

The humming birds were the most dramatic. Those tiny beasts chase each other recklessly, making quick and frequent turns, like little x-wing fighters. It only took a couple minutes for them to find the feeder I filled and hung on the deck. But hardly ever was there more than one bird at the feeder at a time. A second bird would show up and chase or be chased by the bird drinking lunch.

Hummer at feeder

There was one moment when I thought of the feeder as a bar with a couple flirting at it. A bird sat sticking her (I assume) tongue into the sweet nectar. Another bird flew in, hovered near the adjacent perch, then sat there to taste the red liquid. Then he (I assume) hovered above the perch for a second before the female (I presume) jumped into flight and led him (I presume) off on an incredibly fast and jagged course.

Then there was the sexual assault. A bird being chased (a female, I presume), crashed into a lake room window. It lay on the deck, stunned (I hoped). The chaser (a male, I presume) hovered over the motionless bird, then dropped down on top of it. I don't know anything about hummingbird anatomy or mating, but the scene looked to me like an avian sexual assault.

unknown bloom

It's been rainy and there are lots of tiny things blooming. The lilacs were in bloom. There were things blooming that were mysteries. Then there were hostas and the jack-in-the-pulpits.

Hostas unrolling

another unknown

Even the salvia are short little things these days.

tiny salvia

jack preaching

another tiny mystery

tiny wild strawberry

Dandelions never seem small

Sidetrack

Sometime during the weekend, I began thinking of all the named things at the lake. First there's Sidetrack. A previous owner gave the place than name because it was a place to relax off the main line.

Then, of course there's the Shakespeare House, affectionately known as The Willie. I wrote about this little out building back in 2007. 

Then, just outside the back door is Penny. Penny was the name of the household dachshund I met almost 50 years ago at the home of the previous owners of Sidetrack.

Penny

Mac

Next to the patio in back is a very tall spruce tree named Mac. It's probably lonely because there aren't many spruce trees in this neck of the woods. Most of the evergreens are pines.

It's called Mac because David and I got it in a tiny cup on Arbor Day at a MacDonald's "store."

Then, there's Swifty. Swifty is a kayak. Sorry about the disorientation. Swifty had just been hosed out and was upended to drain. Seems the garage mice got inside and chewed up some of the styrofoam.





Mickey is the ubiquitous Disney mouse, headless this time. It's a little cup that decorates the terrace garden. It was draining too. There was once a Minnie, but a falling tree branch did her in.


And Captain Kirk is here too. It's another one of those things we didn't get to name. I don't know the correlation between a hosta and a star ship commander. I'll have to ask the hosta breeder, I guess.

Captain Kirk grounded

It was also a weekend to get the canoe back on the water. I had a lovely trip down to the south end of the lake, but I was stiff. My hips protested enough that I thought I might have to jump in the lake and push the little boat back to the dock. (I keep getting ads for walk-in bathtubs. Maybe I need a walk-in boat.)

Heading back north

Our last day was a rainy one. Wednesday morning we woke to some beautiful fog over the lake. Here's one of the photo pro's pictures.

Fog at sunrise