Category Archives: St Louis region

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Well, it definitely wasn’t one of the babies I saw out on Tuesday. They were huddled inside the nest today, still tiny and fuzzy and curious.

Can they see me, I wonder, peering out like that?

Or are they just waiting for their mother, perched high above in her usual tree, to flutter down with breakfast?

Angry mama or terrified baby? I’m really not sure. It perched with swiveling head on a nearby branch, far lower than I’ve seen the adults before. The little face seemed downy still, and the tail feathers barely span the branch. Yet, it still seemed much larger than I would have expected from the nestling picture just a few days ago.

At least six crows were screetching and swirling around. One even seemed to dive directly at it, before veering off again. It swooped, in sudden quick flight, back to the nesting tree.

It clung to trunk a few minutes, as the crows melted away, then silently slid back into the hollow tree.

Spring Hiking Club: Routes 1 and 2

I got behind a bit, on the start of the new hiking club season. With plans to do route 1 this week, I was a little startled when the map for route 2 showed up in my inbox as well.

Fortunately, they both started at the Bascom House and were easy enough to combine into one expanded hike.

On a sunshine breezes Easter Monday, the park is scattered with families and photographers, all of us enjoying the explosive outburst of spring.

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High in the treetops,

Nearly invisible,

Until she ruffles her feathers or turns her head,

She perches,

Morning and evening,

Surveying the grounds for threats to her not quite hidden nest.

High in the tree tops they hover,

A family pair,

Ears twitching, heads swiveling,

Then they swoop in a instant,

To a better vantage point.

The babies are huddled still,

Deep in the cracks of a crumbling old tree

Edging toward the day,

They creep out on the limbs,

To explore.

Wildflowers wriggle,

Through thickets of leaves,

Winter refuse,

Conquered by spring

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The Star Magnolia,

It’s frostbitten buds,

Wilted by a late season freeze,

Rallies into defiant bloom.

Bottom to top

Spring floods the grounds

Brilliant blossoms,

Teasing into life

The still stark branches of the taller trees.

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Bluff Creek Trail

It’s sunny and busy; a back into the swing of things, holiday’s over, traffic day.

The paved trail branches off into dirt paths leading through the trees and up to the top of the bluffs overlooking the highway.

Old curled leaves still cling to a few scattered trees, while the Dogwood’s new buds huddle tight in their quest for spring.

As the trail winds to the opposite ridge, the thickening trees slowly mute the highway roar.

A pair of downy woodpeckers clatter at the treestops and chase each other through the woods. Bluebirds perch on low branches, taunting me to catch a picture.

The trail loops back to skirt the river, as it slowly splashes beneath the commuter chaos above.

Flint Quarry Trail

Puffy clouded,

Spring-like warm,

January morning surprise

Snow melt dampened,

Slippery boulders,

Glide into gravelly ridge

Woodpeckers and Tufted Titmice,

Tease in and out of the treetops,

Briefly drifting to rest on the trail

Skeletal trees,

March through the valley,

And scale the distant hills

While the trail winds slowly,

Down the ridge,

Skirting through mossy green boulders

Fall Hiking Club Route 9

It’s the final route of the Fall Hiking Club. The leaves have turned, the temperature has dropped, and the park is slowly drifting toward winter.

After a quick trip along the edge of the Bascom House wildflower garden, the route crosses the bridge at Pinetum Lake,

then wanders a long section of the Trail House Loop.

The little Wood Duck side trail isn’t on the route today, but too pretty to pass up. The pond is still and thickly coated with fallen leaves,

while others cling stubbornly to their branches.

A short Prairie Trail section, then onto Bush Creek Trail back to the house completes the loop today. It rained, long and drizzly soft, two days ago. The creek has lifted and freshened a bit, reflecting the bridge beneath its thicket of leaves.

Back in the wildflower garden, birds call, water features splash

and a tiny native bee drifts between the still vibrant asters.