"Ride Through The Rough Patches"

Howdy Folks,

He stopped under the oak on his way to the barn, looked out to his mare, and whistled. She raised her head, then after a pause, came to his side. Draping his arm over her neck he let her bear his weight. They stood a moment, him leaning on her, she accepting the weight. She was a good mare, always seemed to know when to corral her attitude and just be a friend. She did that today.

Rough patches are a part of life. Someone once said it's the rough patches that make the rest of life shine. Rough patches come sometimes out of the blue. Other times a body can see them coming, but when they get here they're just as rough as any other kind. Losing a friend, sometimes you can see that coming, and he had, for a while now. But now that it happened the time hadn't really done much to ready his heart for the heaviness. Walking back from the grave was when the real finality set in.

Not much to do about it. Just have to move on, get along with things, they say. Recently there had been too many, losing friends, rough patches. They all feel the same, so dammed final. Some friends are closer than others, and those make the widest rough patch. This was a wide one.

Without lifting his arm, he started for the barn. The mare knew to follow. Holding her head low she took his weight and stopped when he did, at the tack door. He wasn't much in the mood for all the preliminaries, so he brushed only where the blanket fit, slid on her halter, tossed up the saddle and swung right up in the barn, then rode out the door. His dog trotted behind.

He didn't ask for anything, just a slow steady walk, hadn't even bothered with reins, today just the rope would do. His mare knew what to do. She knew the trails. He could just sit, think about their old friend and ride through the rough patch.

His plan was to let his mare do the heavy lifting, he would simply sit and think. Part of the strategy of riding through a rough patch was doing nothing. Let the horse do the work while he contemplated then, as the familiar gait softened his hard heart, he could begin to see the beauty in the world around them. The mare knew her duty, accepted it and without a single misstep did it. 

The sun warmed their backs as they moved slowly along the wooded trail. Before long he realized there were a great many butterflies about that spring afternoon. The mare walked softly onward, and before he realized it he found himself looking for butterflies. They were everywhere, on the wildflowers, the tree branches, the greening grass, even the mud along the trail. He lost count in the thirties.

Watching butterflies he decided to hunt wildflowers too. The best place for wildflowers was a small ravine by the big stream, but that meant a mighty steep decline. It was this time last year they were searching for the same wildflowers and he knew his mare would remember the tricky path, and she did.

Their walk, with a little slide mixed in, was rewarded with a grand bouquet of wild flowers. Some dozen varieties grow in this little lost haven, some in bloom, some not quite ready yet, but all splendid. It was here they enjoyed the best bird watching of the rough patch ride too. By now his heart was a little lighter, and it was time to head back. First they had that steep hill to negotiate, and his mare took it in stride, as was her duty this day.

Back on the safe trail though, something must have told her he'd shed some of his heavy heart, and she decided she'd earned a bit of a heel kicking romp. She tested his resolve with a quick head tossing flatwalk, then without waiting for a cue, or permission, shifted seamlessly to a slow canter. Her silliness painted his first smile on his face. He wondered after the initial crowhop if she was truly trying to make him laugh, which he did, or just flat being naughty. He thought reins would be nice right about now … Then let go a hearty laugh and turned her loose.

When life plants rough patches in your way, lean on a friend and ride right through it.

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

"A morning Coffee Clutch Stroll"

Howdy Folks,

 

The past few mornings have been quite humid, hot and still, so the fan in the barn had whirred along, doing its best to move the heavy air. While Kessy's fan is great for that, its steady whir tends to drown out the bird song, and since this morning's air was bit lighter I switched it off. On my way to the barn I'd heard a Mockingbird singing variations of at least half a dozen song-bird-solos and wanted to listen to his entire show. So the fan needed a break.

As I puttered around doing my morning's this-and-thats, tending to the chickens, Saturday and Kessy the Mockingbird's soliloquy floated deftly on the air accompanying me. Others joined in too. For the first morning in a while I heard a Scarlet Tanager, he was some distance in the woods, but his notes filled the tree tops. Mr Wren darted here and there chirping his delightfully busy chatter, and several Phoebes called their names as if to make certain they were recognized as part of the ensemble. A special treat was Mr. Bluebird's solo from somewhere high in the big Oak.

Kessy, Saturday, Miss Kitty, Tigger and me

 Settled in my chair next to Kessy it was delightful to take in all the birdsong, and Kessy's slow, sleepy, hay munching. Other birds joined in as Saturday, Tigger and Miss Kitty reclined with me. The squeaking of Chipping Sparrows, trilling of a Robin and even the call of a passing Crow filled out the bill. Then as if by request, the air rumbled gently with the low vibrations of a distant train. And then the whistle blew.

I tipped my hat to the Creator, gave thanks for the splendor of it all, and decided to stroll about before heading in for my morning ration of boiled oatmeal. Ravishin' Robbie had spent last afternoon and evening touching up her gardens and everything looks lovely. First stop the wild looking patch next to Kessy's bedroom just bursting with color from Brown Eyed Susans, Lilies and Daisies. A brief pause at the back porch steps to say good morning to Mrs. Phoebe who settled on our porch light as the most perfect spot for her second nest of the summer. Any day now tiny peeps will be peering over the nest edge.

Saturday, Miss Kitty and Tigger trailed along single file as I moseyed to our campfire area where Robbie has 2 tranquil shade gardens. I must admit to not knowing all the plant varieties there, but the border of Coleus is brilliantly red and orange.

Off we trekked to the front of the house where Robbie's vegetable garden fence is sporting the greenery and brilliant reds of Cardinal Climber. If you've never planted this delightful climbing plant, do yourself, and your Hummingbirds a favor, and plant some, the flowers are tiny cups of velvet red. The interior of the vegetable garden is looking great too, but I'm a flower kind of guy, and since this year Robbie decided to forgo the Marigold boarders, well it's boring to me.

Robbie's Herb Garden

Her Kitchen herb bed is jam-packed with all sorts of hearty, happy herbs, many of them blooming now too. Hummingbirds and butterflies love this garden and so many were there it looked like a convention! The Clary Sage has a  lovely light blue flower and the Yellow Swallowtails were loving it. I checked the Blue Bird nest there and it looks like they are starting their next nest, too!

Robbie's Flower Jungle

I lead our little troupe to the big flower jungle next. This is a big bed where 7 summers ago we had planted full of Zinnias and Cosmos. It was our first flower bed when we moved here. Each summer plants reseed themselves in it, and it's been expanding annually. The flowers are so thick it never requires weeding! This morning the Larkspur was in charge creating a dense bouquet of sky blue. The Cosmos are just beginning to open, and the Zinnias too, adding just the right touch of red, yellow and orange.

Thanks for joining the Coffee Clutch family on our morning tour. Hope you had fun!

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

"Saturday's Dance Partner"

Howdy Folks,

We stood in the calm stream, sun danced on the lazy ripples. Ferns along the stream reached for the sun, their wide leaves nearly unfurled. A Yellow Swallowtail butterfly floated just inches above the sparkling water following the contour of the meandering stream. Kessy stood so calm as if sleeping. The stream is wide here, with sandy beaches on both banks and water so clear I can watch the minnows darting between Kessy's feet. Saturday was doing his thing investigating the stream banks. It is our favorite place along all the trails we travel. Getting lost in the serenity there is easy to do, and we were.

Saturday's howl shook the tree branches. Kessy woke up and spun around with a great splashing of water, to see what had Saturday all excited. I sat the spin. Then laughed out loud. Saturday danced about howling with every other bounce, shoving his nose into leaves and bush, then howling again and bouncing back. Only to howl again!

Now you need to know something about our little beagle, Saturday. He's a discarded hunting who dog showed up on our doorstep, on a Saturday, skinny, hungry and worn nearly four years ago. And by golly he's a great little friend, and trail buddy, but no hunter. Why I've actually seen him run into rabbits on the trail and never chase them. Or let go a single howl. Nope he's simply not a hunter. We've always figured that's why he was discarded.

Our buddy Saturday

 Over the years we have noticed one thing he'll hunt down, howl at and corner. And that one thing is … snakes. Yup he'll corner a snake every time he finds one. Once in the chicken house he worried the black right off a big ol' Black Snake, howling and dancing over it. Another time behind the barn he had a three foot, or so, Hog Nosed snake. And he also cornered another really big Black Snake in the tack room one evening. So I pretty much knew right off who Saturday's newest dancing partner was … had to be a snake. But which kind had me worried as we have plenty of Copperheads in our area, even though I've never seen one.

But Saturday was sure kicking up a ruckus and would not heed my call to let it be, so I coaxed Kessy out of the water and up the bank to have a closer look. Sure enough Saturday had the biggest Hog Nosed snake I'd ever seen pinned under that bush. At first glance I thought it was a log! I told Saturday to let it alone, "It's big enough to eat you, boy!" I warned, but he just kept on dancing and howling. I edged Kessy closer, up the bank and into the brush. Finally the snake began to move away, slowly. But Saturday followed! It took a full five minutes to call Saturday off that terrified reptile!

I suppose we'll never know what Saturday sees in, Dancing With The Snakes, but we do know he loves the Rumba!

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

"Bird Watching With Kessy- What a Ride!"

Howdy Folks,

We paused on the ridge. Far below a Great Blue Heron stood frozen, head cocked, watching the still water. Kessy stood quietly as I peered through the budding Mountain Laurel to watch the grand bird. Suddenly behind us the woods erupted with the "rat-tat-tat-tat" of a drumming woodpecker. The hammering sound seemed to cover the air above and behind us. I could almost feel it. Backing Kessy along the ridge with my eyes searching the tree tops I searched for the bird I was sure would prove to be a Hairy Woodpecker.

 

Great Blue Heron

Over and over the hammering sounded. I kept moving Kessy this way and that along the trail bank as I sought a glimpse of the busy bird. Finally high on a dead branch I spied him. To my surprise it was the much smaller Downy Woodpecker. All that noise from such a little bird!

Downy Woodpecker

Kessy has become quite the bird-watching-trail-horse. It took her quite a while to learn to stand quietly and move gently every which way, up and down banks, into brush, over logs, all while I'm leaning sideways and stretching back searching for my feathered treasure. But she's a champion at it now. I'm even convinced sometimes she searching too!

We set off up the trail in Kessy's beautiful barefoot running walk shuffle, Saturday trotting with us. The trails we ride wind through the woods, tree walls on each side, and in many places a closed canopy above. We had already seen several Yellow Swallow Tailed butterflies but I was not prepared for what we rode into next. As we rounded the bend we road into a blizzard of Yellow Tails, perhaps as many as fifty, floated ahead of us, filling the air with soft black stripped yellow wings. It was like riding into a magical forest. One even brushed my face as we rode among them.

Ovenbird

On both sides of the trail the woods were alive with birdsong. All along the trail we heard Indigo Buntings. They will be regulars for the next few months. Rufus Sided Towhees called, "Drink Your Tea," and Oven Birds called, "Teacher, Teacher, Teacher." With Kessy's deftness at sneaking into the woods we did manage to spot a Towhee, but the emphatic and elusive Ovenbird evaded our prying eyes.

Eastern or Rufus Sided Towhee

Back into the sunlight we gaited, then we stopped at large patch of tiny blue flowers appropriately named Bluetts. Scattered among them were the equally dainty pink Spring Beauties. I was still admiring the wild bouquet when a Common Yellowthroat Warbler shattered the silence with his excited "Witchity, witchity, witchity." They are usually fairly easy to spot, and Kessy did her best, but the sun was bright and while we heard more than one Common Yellowthroat, we never found one.

Common Yellowthroat Warbler

Time to move on again, I asked Kessy for a little speed, and away we sailed. I watched our shadow as she glided along, sure footed, never stumbling. Bird song filled the air above us and around us. The sun warmed my back. Saturday trotted alongside. Then a new songster joined in the concert. A familiar tune it was, but try as I might I could not place it.

Yellow Warbler

Following the sound I moved Kessy up the bank and scoured the trees. The song drifted out from a patch of wild Dogwood and we inched closer. One tiptoed step at a time through the brush. The Dogwoods were thick here, but their leaves still tiny green swatches, and white flowers just beginning to unfurl. I asked Kessy to back into the sun so it would be on our backs just as the tiny yellow bird flitted to a higher branch only a few feet away. He thrust his beak skyward and let go his melody, a sweet shrill, "Tsee-tsee-tsee-titi-weet." Over and over he called. The sun sparkled on his yellow feathers and rusty streaked breast. A Yellow Warbler! We were so close I could see his beak open and close with each note! What a sight! … What a horse!

Pileated Woodpecker

We were still to see two more birds on our way home. A Pileated woodpecker flew directly over us as we sat counting the Yellow Swallowtails on a blooming olive bush. Over 20! And a Black and White Warbler flew across the trail in front of us. What a perfect bird watching ride! What great bird watching partners are Saturday and Kessy!

 

Black-and-white Warbler

Kessy, Saturday and I hope you enjoyed this ride as much as we did!

Check out more birds and their songs here at Cornell Lab of Ornithology - http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/search -

Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry