Bird brain: It could be a derogatory label. But I will just say I have birds on the brain.
As I wrote earlier this winter, I've been on a quest for photographing a pheasant. I see plenty of pheasants. But no one gave them the memo that I would like for them to:
Stand still.
Stand in a location with good lighting.
Come close enough to the road for my camera.
It hasn't just been a desire this winter. I've wanted a pheasant photo for years.
And it finally happened.
It's not perfect, but it's the best I've ever gotten.
Most of them looked like this ...
... somewhat blurry ...
The backyard cardinals are somewhat more cooperative, but I still have to stealthily shoot through the back porch windows.
(Yes, those windows should probably be washed if I'm going to attempt photography through them!)
As I was coming out of the pasture in the feed truck one snowy day, I found a meadowlark crouched down on a hay bale. It was one of those frigid days, so I guess he was too cold to fly away.
This better photo was from a fence-fencing escapade a couple of years ago.
While I'd like the pheasants and the cardinals to hold still for their closeups, we'd prefer that the snow geese depart from our wheat and silage fields. We don't really care about them hanging out on the silage ground, since it was harvested last September. But they invariably drift over onto the nearby wheat ground.
We chased thousands of them off the fields before feeding cattle a couple of days.
While hunters are glad to see them, they do a lot of damage eating the green wheat in our fields. Hungry geese can decimate a wheat field fairly quickly.
Uninvited guests can wreak havoc at a party. No Kansas wheat farmer
wants to provide a never-ending buffet for tens of thousands of geese.
But, migrating geese evidently saw an
all-you-can-eat buffet sign flashing green from the heavens. And they
said, "Don't mind if I do!"
Farmers try to send them on
their way by honking their horns and making more drivebys than a police
cruiser trying to clean up a shady neighborhood. But about as soon as
farmers moseyed on down the road to the next location, the geese circled
back for another taste of tender green wheat.
While hunters
might have enjoyed the influx of geese in Central Kansas, wheat farmers
prefer the feathered beasts find their buffet elsewhere, since they can
eat a young wheat field to bare ground faster than a teenage boy and his
friends can plow through a bag of chips.
When Jill & Eric lived in Omaha, their downstairs neighbors complained that they were loud. At the time, they were at work during the day. They didn't have a 5 year old or 2 year old running or jumping or dancing. I guess they walked too loudly. (I think that downstairs neighbor had an unrealistic view of apartment living, but it's not like I'm an expert on that particular subject.)
We, on the other hand, have had some really noisy neighbors this winter. The shrieking and racket were enough to give anyone a headache. (Watching the video may give you motion sickness, too. I've never claimed to be a videographer.)
Several weeks ago, we got multiple phone calls a day from hunters who wanted to invite themselves to the geese's party. Our land is leased to hunters already. And, at that time, the snow geese were feeding on a neighbor's milo stalks, so they weren't on our ground anyway. On the day I recorded the video, an out-of-state pickup was also watching the ballet of the swirling, twirling cloud of geese.
For the past week, we've again had geese on some wheat ground, both morning and night.
Every time I go by, I honk and shout to send them on their way. Hungry geese can decimate a wheat field fairly quickly. No Kansas wheat farmer
wants to provide a never-ending buffet for tens of thousands of geese.
Some of the trespassers weren't phased by my attempts to shoo them away.
Last evening, Randy started running toward them, clapping his hands to try to get them to move.
They listened just about like stubborn 2-year-old toddlers, but they finally took off with a little encouragement from the farmer.
Every time I run them off, I figure they are laughing at me. They probably circle back the minute I drive on down the road, but I still do my farm wife duty in the moment.
This past week, the geese have been joined by bigger "cousins," sandhill cranes. They have been using our neighbor's milo stalks as a feeding ground.
These itinerant neighbors are even noisier than the geese!
(I don't have a fancy camera, so the photos aren't great, but I still thought the story was worth sharing.)
Uninvited guests can wreak havoc at a party. No Kansas wheat farmer
wants to provide a never-ending buffet for tens of thousands of geese.
But, for several weeks, migrating geese have evidently seen an
all-you-can-eat buffet sign flashing green from the heavens. And they
say, "Don't mind if we do!"
Farmers try to send them on
their way by honking their horns and making more drive-bys than a police
cruiser trying to clean up a shady neighborhood. But about as soon as
farmers mosey on down the road to the next location, the geese circle back for another taste of tender green wheat.
While hunters
might enjoy the influx of geese in Central Kansas, wheat farmers
prefer the feathered beasts find their buffet elsewhere, since they can
eat a young wheat field to bare ground faster than a teenage boy and his
friends can plow through a bag of chips.
We are just south of the Quivira National Wildlife Refuge. Thankfully, we don't have as many birds on our crop land as they host on the refuge. One of the sites I researched estimates that more than 800,000 ducks and geese visit the Refuge until severe weather
drives them southward to winter along the Gulf Coast and in Mexico. Being nearby when they lift off reminds me a bit of Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds."
My walks along our country roads this time of year are punctuated with the call of geese as they fly overhead. Our home just south of the Quivira National Wildlife Refuge puts us in the flight pattern for the birds.
Most times, the geese form the familiar "V" pattern as they fly through the air. There have been lots of people who have cashed in on analyzing the birds' behavior. They think we humans can learn a lesson from the geese, who use teamwork and cooperation to get where they're going.
I think we humans are pretty good at teamwork, too. And that was again confirmed when our church recently had its annual bazaar. Since 1923, the women of the church have organized some kind of fundraiser to support church missions. The first fundraisers were banquets, since the church basement was one of the larger places in town. Nobody seems to know when the annual bazaar started, but it's been more than 30 years (since I've been around that long)!
It's pretty amazing when you think about it: For nearly 90 years, United Methodist Women (and some men these days) have worked together to accomplish a common goal.
When my mother-in-law was alive, she organized craft days. The women of the church got together and made Christmas angels or Thanksgiving turkeys or whatever Marie dreamed up.
Though those craft days are no longer, we still get together for food workdays. The UMW Apple Butter is on the agenda for one fall morning.
We have some people who grew up in Stafford who send their relatives to pick up pint jars of the stuff. It's a distinctive red color because of the red hots that give it the cinnamon-apple taste. We had 100 pint jars prepared.
By the end of the bazaar, all of them were snatched up. (For a great recipe using apple butter, click on this link for Apple Butter Coffee Cake. Even though I use UMW apple butter for it, commercial apple butter would be good, too.)
We also make apple pies in a variation of the old quilting bees. Instead of stitching together quilts, we spend a morning putting together apple pies. We freeze them and then offer them just in time for holiday baking. Those were a sell-out, too, disappointing a few people who didn't make it in time to get one.
When the apple pie making day rolls around, the organizers are good at recruitment.
"You don't have to know how to make a pie," they tell the newbies. "Everybody just does their own job."
And it's true. There are the apple peelers and corers.
There are people who slice them.
(Erica, who just graduated from K-State was our youngest helper. Our age range went from 22 years old to several octogenarians. Her Dad, Boyd, fell somewhere in the middle!)
Others add sugar and spices to the apples.
Still others roll out pie crust: One may do the bottom crust and another the top crust.
Somebody else dots the pie with bits of butter. Still another crimps the edges. The final person puts it in a plastic bag and sends it to the freezer.
Usually there aren't too many Lucille Ball assembly line moments!
It's the perfect illustration of teamwork - everyone doing a little part and accomplishing a bigger purpose. Those geese have nothing on us, do they?
The world has changed. Eighty years ago, women didn't work outside the home. Church activities were their "get-away," a time during the week to come and visit with their friends. Sure, they were also working on a project, but it was undoubtedly a social outlet as well.
Today, many women work 8 to 5 jobs (and beyond). Our UMW has tried to involve the younger generations by scheduling some of the work on weekends. For the second year, our bazaar was on a Saturday, instead of on Election Day as it had been for decades.
But we "younger" ones don't spend a lot of time hanging up clothes in the used clothing room or sorting and marking donated items in the "treasure" room (AKA junque room!). Those tasks are primarily accomplished by ladies in their 70s and 80s. (And, a sidenote, I'm always amused by being one of the younger ones when I'm past the half-century mark!)
Several of us contribute by providing goodies for a packaged food area. And, yes, I was alone in my own kitchen as I made 27 dozen cookies, 6 dozen cinnamon rolls, several dozen crescent rolls, 11 mini loaves of quick breads and buckets of snack mix to sell. But I still feel like I was part of that "V" formation, a contributing member of the team, working toward accomplishing a common goal.
I heard rumblings again this year that the UMW 2010 Bazaar might be the last. We'll see. I've heard the rumors before, so I'm not ready to sound the death knell. Like Mark Twain once said, "The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated."
Maybe 2010 will be the end of the bazaar. Only time will tell. If it is, we went out on a high note. We raised more than $3,800 for missions and ministries efforts at our church.
Even if it's the end of the bazaar, I know it won't be the end of cooperation - in our church or in the community.
We humans do our best work when we fly in the "V" formation, too. If it's not the bazaar, we'll find new ways to come together.
