Tag Archives: morning

Wind Ice Ducks

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I made the trek to the ferry landing again early this morning to see what birds are still hanging around the open water. I watched the sun rise and got there as the ferry was spinning itself around, trying to break up some of the ice that had formed in the night. It looked like the channel had frozen over, even if it was thinner there. The temperature was 1 degree when I hit the road. The ferry had some ice to break.

Ducks waiting for the day to warm up

Ducks waiting for the day to warm up

At the lake there was not much open water and a few ducks were swimming and diving down for breakfast. Most of them were sitting on the ice, however, heads tucked under wings in the cold. The wind was blowing hard so it felt mighty cold. The cove there is small. It is curious that so many ducks were hanging out on the windy ice instead of seeking shelter somewhere. Maybe they are safer from predators there.

I did see a common goldeneye in two parts. I noticed its head first–alone in a red ring of frozen blood. It was eerie. Later I noticed its body several yards away. It may have been taken by an eagle yesterday and then left there. Eagles do that sometimes. Before I left, the crows had come in to have their own breakfast. I didn’t see any eagles today.

When the ferry left, the ducks, or some of them, hit the water. Lots of them stayed asleep on the ice. I watched the divers sink and rise, sometimes coming up with shellfish or other items in their beaks. I wanted to find the tufted duck that others have seen here but I was out of luck for a second time. I am guessing, if it is still around, it is over on the New York side where there is more water. I did get to see eight different species of ducks–not bad for one spot.

I may try again tomorrow. With the wind chill below zero today, and likely tomorrow, it is a cold affair. But, again, those ducks won’t be around much longer. It is March, after all, which is the month spring starts. A month from now there should be plenty of water to go around.

Bufflehead and scaups prowling the pylons

Bufflehead and scaups prowling the pylons

Early Morning Visit to the Lake

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Just getting light as I head out.

Just getting light as I head out.

Got up early this morning to go look for ducks. Because Lake Champlain is frozen over they have few places to go with open water. I went to the Lake Champlain Ferry dock in Charlotte. I was rewarded for my early efforts. There were hundreds of ducks of many kinds there.

Plus I saw two lifers: Barrow’s Goldeneye, which is not very common on Lake Champlain, a male and a female; plus a pair of Pintails. Stunning birds both.

The irony is that I am headed over to New York today so I will be taking the ferry from that very spot. I won’t have much time to look then but maybe I will get lucky. That is the great thing about birding. You really never know what you might see.

Waders and divers on the open water.

Waders and divers on the open water.

Seriously, how can I count all these little dudes?

Seriously, how can I count all these little dudes?

Morning in Burlington

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When I first moved to Burlington I worked at Abraham’s Camera Shop. I worked the standard nine to five shift, selling cameras and film. They had a great selection, although the owner was creepy. Actually, he was really creepy. He had an assistant in the upstairs windowless office whose job in part was to watch the security cameras. The cameras were to make sure no one stole anything, but they were aimed not out at the floor, where customers lingered, but behind the counters where the staff worked. They were watching me. Creepy.

That was a short job for me, however–only a few months. I was out of there as fast as I could go. I got a job at Photogarden around the corner, processing film. That was way more enjoyable. In both cases I did not have far to go to get to work. I lived on Hyde Street, in the old north end, so I walked or rode my bike to work every day. Those were not career jobs, but the commute couldn’t be beat.

Since I worked on Church Street, which is open only to pedestrians most of the day, I loved walking down this street in the morning. The street was bustling. Shops were being unlocked and deliveries were being made. Before 9:00 trucks would park on the street and unload. It felt like the world was clear and real and waking again to a new day. It gave me a sense of perspective–I was just one of many people with interesting or boring, exciting or mundane, happy or depressing lives. I felt good about my own life. I had health and friends and a good attitude and years ahead of me to fulfill my dreams.

I watched the boxes roll from a truck and thought about the man pushing the trolley. Did he have children? Did that Remington hat mean he was a hunter? I thought about the woman accepting the boxes. Did she own that place? Did her business mean as much as a relationship? I looked at the cute waitress serving breakfast at the restaurant next door. I thought about the future sometimes and often just lived in the moment.

Yesterday I walked down Church Street early. I do not do it often anymore. I had just dropped off my daughter at a photography camp program on lower Church Street (how things loop around) and was walking with my son to have breakfast in town. The scene has not changed much. I still wondered about the people on either side of the deliveries, and the waitresses don’t seem so cute now (compared to my wife, who could?) but the trucks were still lined up and the boxes still rolled off the backs of them.

I had some of those same feelings of hope and wonder that I had all those years ago. I felt proud of my daughter for trying something new and I felt happy to spend some time with my son, who is turning out to be a pretty great person. We walked up the street, some of my dreams now fulfilled, some still to be met, and I felt glad to simply be there, to be alive and to welcome the day.

Day 44: Frost and Kinglet

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This morning we had frost. When I left the house at 5:15 AM the temperature was 29 degrees. I wore a fleece layer, gloves, and a hat. That is not all I wore, of course, but I have not worn those items in many days. It was chilly.  When the air is cold and clear, that early in the day, before the sun is really roused, I appreciate again the beauty of the place I live. The horizon was pink and the thinnest crescent moon rose over Camel’s Hump. Two geese honked over head as I walked down the driveway. My misted breath danced out over the greening field.

I had that same soreness again this morning. My Achilles tendon has been letting me know it wants some attention lately. I have not totally ignored it, but I haven’t paid attention to its whining either. Today I kept the run to three miles and I walked some at the end to be safe. It is a bit of a nuisance. But it was a fine morning to be out, so I was content. After all, I will run again tomorrow.

There were lots of birds to be heard out there on that short run–red-winged blackbirds and robins and geese and ducks and song sparrows. Yesterday I was running on a narrow class IV section of road, where the trees are tight on each side. I thought I heard a ruby crowned kinglet singing. I stopped. Sure enough, in a tree right near me a little bird hopped from branch to branch and belted out its complicated flurry of notes. That little bird can sing like a champ, and I don’t hear them around here all that often. It was a treat. Then, as I passed over the river, I watched a great blue heron try to catch breakfast by the shore. It has been a good couple days for birds.

Today the high temperature is forecast to be 73 degrees. That is much warmer than 29. I am guessing we will get one more day of frost and that’s it. Today might have been our last one, but I like to plan on frost in early May. So I might get a crisp morning run in one more time. Either way, I’ll be out there. Tomorrow I get to sleep in. I’ll give the old ankle more than 24 hours rest. And then I’ll  put in a few more miles.

Day 42: Sore?

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I rose early today to get my run in.  The morning was stunning. Wispy clouds floated in front of the eastern pink sky. Camel’s Hump was silhouetted, surrounded by red and orange. Robins sang. A cool wind caressed the new grass. I wore shorts. I stood for a minute before heading out, soaking in the beauty. I live in a fine place.

My ankle was sore today. It was sore yesterday as well but I reckoned it would figure out that an injury was unwelcome if I ignored it long enough. That didn’t work, apparently. Like the house guest that won’t take the hint and keeps sticking around, the soreness persisted. I had to run short again. And slowly. But I got some miles in and marked off day 42 of consecutive days running.

It wasn’t a pain, really. It didn’t ache. It felt like an overuse situation, which  is somewhat understandable. Nonetheless, I wish it would disappear. I am hoping it will. In fact, I am confident it will. I have come too far to break the streak now. If I can run 42 days in a row, I can do more. I do tend to be overambitious. Heck, I am already thinking I should go for 1,000 days in a row. But that is ridiculous at this point. Let’s get to 50 days first, then 100. After that, we an talk. This soreness is, as I said, not welcome. It keeps me from dreaming big. It checks me. In some ways that is good, but I like to dream big. Who wants things boring?

Tomorrow I will have to rise early again to fit in a run. If I wait until the afternoon it just won’t happen. If I have to run short, or walk a little to ease the ankle nagging me, I will do that. I am hoping, however, that the healing process will take care of my lower limb and I will be back on the road soreness-free. I hope as well that the morning is a stellar as this one. That will make it worth it no matter what.

Day 37: Fifty in Sight

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I didn’t start off thinking I would run all these days in a row. I just got started and once I did, I thought I could do more, and then I set a goal and I was on my way. Setting a goal is pretty key for me. In the past I have trained for and run marathons. Those years when I did not have that goal, I ran less. Once I set the goal, once I have something to work toward, I am more likely to make it happen. I plan to run a marathon and then I make the training happen. That is the way it has been with this goal. If I did not have the goal to go for a run every day, I simply would not do it. Last week I went to a conference and I had a long drive to start fairly early in the morning. I rose at 4:30 to run because I knew I would find it hard to run if I did not rise that early. Without the goal, I would not have done that.

This morning I was sound asleep when the alarm went off. In my dream I was hearing a tune over and over. I wanted it to stop. I didn’t know where it was coming from. But that persistent tune finally shoved me out of the dream world and into the concrete one. The tune I was hearing was my alarm. Often I wake before the alarm, but not today. I was sleepy. The bed was warm. I had to leave for work early. But I got up anyway and tied my shoes and strapped on my headlamp and hit the road. I saw no one else, only some birds. I was hoping to hear a meadowlark, as I did on a recent morning, but only robins and song sparrows sang from the roadside.

As long as I don’t get injured I will hit fifty days. Today was just a regular old run. I only ran three miles, since I had little time, in the dark, but it was enough. I will fit in longer runs on other days. Each day, however, is one more day toward a pile of days. I am confident now that I can get in 50 days of consecutive running. I’ll call that my short term goal. Then I’ll head downhill toward 100. I mentioned my goal to a colleague today and he said “Once you hit 100 days, why stop there?”

Why stop indeed?

Day 35: Spring Popping Out

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Thirty five days of consecutive running. That’s not too shabby. As I ran early this morning, I thought about spring. It was lighter than usual today, 5:30 AM. I ran without a light. A week ago the time was the same and the cloud cover was the same, but it was dark. The days grow longer. No cars passed me this morning so I never had to flip on the headlamp. I love that. It is a small pleasure that perhaps many cannot appreciate–to run in the mostly-dark without a light. That I didn’t have to turn it on even temporarily for passing drivers was a bonus.

I need to ready the garden. I should have planted peas and spinach by now, but I haven’t done any tilling. I was hoping to rent or borrow a rototiller to get the job done this year, but getting around to that has simply not happened. Laziness? Apathy? Busy-ness? Whatever, it hasn’t happened. I walk right past the garden every time I head out for a run, so this time of year it is hard to ignore the wild tussle of weeds that are springing up. And it is hard not to think, while I plod along, how much I need to get cracking on planting. I have planted onions in trays inside, and the garlic I planted in the fall is sprouting, so at least I’ve got that.

Birds are singing up a storm early morning. Robins and sing sparrows and titmice and juncos–all whistling and chirping and raising a cacophony. They are trying to land a girlfriend, I tell my children. Woodcocks and snipes do their weird dance and sing act as well. I almost never actually see them, hiding in the dusk, but I can hear them just fine. They try to tell me spring is here, not just coming soon. I can’t help but listen. In the near dark, when I am alone, and windows just begin to shine in distant houses, the birds have their say and I listen.

Trees are leafing out. Daffodils are blooming. The air doesn’t get down to freezing. I feel too warm with a fleece vest under my windbreaker, even with temperatures in the 30s. Spring is so here. All of a sudden it will be warm and summer with blast on in. The mornings are just about perfect for running right now, however. I need to enjoy them while I can. By day 100, if I can get that far, it might just be hot.

Day 28: Caballo Blanco

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I read recently, somewhere, in an article I have since lost and forgotten, about a runner who decided not to take days off. Why think about whether today or tomorrow will be a rest day? Why consider whether running today makes sense or if a day off would be better? The author just ran every day. It made a lot of sense. I find time to run most days early in the morning, before everyone else rises for the day, and if I didn’t take days off I would not be able to make excuses. “I am tired and it is dark and I am still sleepy and the bed is warm; I need a rest day anyway, so I’ll just stay in bed.” If I ran every day I would just get up and go. I would have to.

I am on day 28 of running every day. I started off small–two milers. I have been building from there. Today I only ran three miles. It does not seem very far. I used to think of five miles as my minimum run distance. But after a couple kids added to the mix, and too much time away from real running, and back surgery, and making a living and other sorry excuses, my distances have shortened. My longest has been about seven miles in those 28 days. Not shabby but I hope to go farther. It is hard not to imagine running 100 miles at some point.

Of course, this morning I was not ready to run 100 miles. If I was still in the habit of making excuses I probably would have stayed in bed. I was tired. My back was sore. My calves were sore for criminy’s sake. But I tell you, walking out when the sun is just coloring the horizon, and the woodcocks are dancing over the fields, and the song sparrows are just warming up their voices, and the mountains are silhouetted on the horizon, it just can’t be beat. So I ran three and got the miles in and added a day. I hope to hit 100 days in a row.

I need to think about things as I run. Well, perhaps I do not need to think about things, but it is hard not to think about things. Today I thought about Caballo Blanco. He is the ultrarunner who was featured in Christopher McDougall’s Born to Run.  Two days ago the New York Times reported that he had died. If you have not read the book, I recommend it. If you are a runner you will be inspired to run more. If you are not a runner, you will be inspired nonetheless. It is a terrific story. Caballo Blanco, or “White Horse” lived to run. He, and his adventures, made me want to live more simply, and to run because it is just plain fun. He went to the desert canyons in Mexico to learn from the best, and he died on a run in New Mexico. Quite a life.

So I thought about this man as I ran this morning. He wanted to be remembered as being “authentic.” It seems he was. How will I be remembered? What mark will I leave? How will I impress my children with how to live authentically? These were some of the questions I thought about as the sky grew light and Jupiter faded into the dawn. And then I ran home.

Mercury Falling and Mercury Rising

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So my extended break from entering anything on this blog is broken as of today. I woke early this morning, not really intentionally, but I did, I looked at the clock and realized I was in time to get outside and perhaps see Mercury rising just before the sun. It has been rising early enough the past week or so but the skies have not been clear enough to see anything. So I slipped from the warm blankets and grabbed a thick sweater before heading downstairs. I checked the thermometer–5 below zero. I would have to suit up.

With snowpants over my pajama pants, thick socks and a couple of layers on top, I slipped on a hat and gloves and grabbed my binoculars. The snow squeaked on the porch, loudly enough that I thought it might wake the children asleep upstairs. I stepped through the knee-deep snow out to the field. I perched myself next to a birdhouse on a post and scanned the horizon. This time of year the sun rises north of Camel’s Hump, so I looked there, but I saw nothing. I was not sure what time Mercury might rise over the hills, so I waited.

In the meantime I checked the star chart on the Planets app on my iPod Touch. This app shows the rise and set times for all the planets, based on your location. It also shows what constellations are visible. Venus glowed brightly next to Scorpio. I wanted to learn a new constellation, as the ones I know are few. I found Virgo and spent some time trying to burn it into my memory. I had a hard time visualizing that set of stars as a reclining woman, but I got a good look at it.

I was warm enough in all my layers so I kept waiting. I finally did see something in the general area I was looking, but it seemed too far south, and it seemed to blink. I watched in the binoculars, resting them on the birdhouse. It wasn’t exactly a high powered telescope on a tri-pod but it worked well enough. It kept rising and heading further south so after a bit I knew I had my planet. After about 45 minutes in the same spot I headed in. The stars were faded and I could hardly see Mercury. Since Mercury won’t be visible until December, it was well worth rising in the cold and dark. I even managed to stay warm.

Once inside, before the sun rose over the Mountains, the temperature dropped to 7 below zero. Not a warm morning. I cranked the fire and fired up a cafe latte. I sat back with a book and waited for the children to rise. Now, the sun up, the mercury is rising a little higher. It won’t get hot today, but it will be warm enough to play outside for a while. I plan to take several laps around the field on my skis. We have enough snow this year for a great nordic track and we–adults and children–have taken advantage of it every day we have been able to do that.  I won’t be getting up quite so early tomorrow, unless I decide to get a ski in before I head to work. Even if it isn’t as cold as this morning, however, that ski just may have to wait until late afternoon.

First Frost

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It was cold last night. The thermometer read 32 degrees when I rose this morning. Frost on the pumpkins and all that. Winter on the way, baby.

Sun Coming Up on a Frosted World