barren nights
- Thread starter whippoorbill
- Start date
Remember Billy,I am the one who eats raw cranberries with a smile
you on the other hand may inadvertently suck one down and it could be the death of you,Cranberry is your poison or dare i say your kryptonite.If you want to really whammy me with your pea shooter maybe you should consider fire ants as ammo,even the local ants would probably send me into conipshions.fair warning,I fight back with handfuls of chiggers.Actually this isn't the best season for an insect/arachnid war is it.I guess it'll be cranberries and rabbit turds it is!Bring it on!Alfie
Alfie,
Turns out I have allies. I've recruited a team of pea shooters and you're going to be subjected to a barrage of cranberry bombardment never witnessed before in pine barren floral-warfare history.
Still, I missed being out there with you today. I hope you're feeling better.
My time was instead spent making a compilation of some of my 2008 field recordings. I'll burn you a copy (and plenty more; if I cross paths with anybody else on the forum ... out there, somewhere ... I'll be happy to hand one over). It's filled with Penn Swamp night-to-dawn transitions, those that WONK in the dead of night, and peep, and hammer, and croak like leopards. Alfie knows how I love the Fowler's toads' squeal. It has the one great, totally wild coyote howl-bark sequence captured this summer, plus some haunting 4am hooters. There's also a neat mockingbird rant that makes me laugh everytime I hear it. The fellow was strident in his mimicking.
Bill
Turns out I have allies. I've recruited a team of pea shooters and you're going to be subjected to a barrage of cranberry bombardment never witnessed before in pine barren floral-warfare history.
Still, I missed being out there with you today. I hope you're feeling better.
My time was instead spent making a compilation of some of my 2008 field recordings. I'll burn you a copy (and plenty more; if I cross paths with anybody else on the forum ... out there, somewhere ... I'll be happy to hand one over). It's filled with Penn Swamp night-to-dawn transitions, those that WONK in the dead of night, and peep, and hammer, and croak like leopards. Alfie knows how I love the Fowler's toads' squeal. It has the one great, totally wild coyote howl-bark sequence captured this summer, plus some haunting 4am hooters. There's also a neat mockingbird rant that makes me laugh everytime I hear it. The fellow was strident in his mimicking.
Bill
Did you say HOOTERS?! Give me two of em!
What is it next time?Islands?Cedar swamps?grassy medders?Plains?
I'm there Billy.maybe I'll go with no gps and compass or maps and rely on the southerly pointing of the largest pine limbe and the ever so gentle southerly nod of the tips of young cedars.moss grows on all sides of the tree but it does get purtier on the north side generally.what the hell,lets git lost.cain't really be lost ifn you ain't got a place to be nor a time to be there now can ya?
Alfie
What is it next time?Islands?Cedar swamps?grassy medders?Plains?
I'm there Billy.maybe I'll go with no gps and compass or maps and rely on the southerly pointing of the largest pine limbe and the ever so gentle southerly nod of the tips of young cedars.moss grows on all sides of the tree but it does get purtier on the north side generally.what the hell,lets git lost.cain't really be lost ifn you ain't got a place to be nor a time to be there now can ya?
Alfie
three from last week's recycle bin...
I always liked the look of these old dry dead pines. There are tons of them that are extremely visable in the "desert" (area on the northern end of the great swamp but west of the Mullica). In this particular area, there is little understory and the dead pines dry in the sun and rest upon sand and lichens.
They remind me of whale skeletons. (vertebre and ribs)
Jeff
Jeff,
A few weeks back, when exploring the Burlington/Atlantic line, I noted many grounded dead-pine skeletons. Many more than usual. It was in a area where a fire wreaked havoc a decade or so ago, giving the pines a chance to mysteriously deteriorate.
I love the look of them, too.Bill
Traffic ... early 70s. When the eagle flies...
...and when the seas subside
you'll see him glide right out of view
in clouds of snow the rains will come
and wash away all the scum so all the little flowers can grow.
... no more taking only giving and the sunshine pouring down
no economics
and no atomics
just the spread of Mother Nature's gown.
Do you hear me, Mother Nature?
Do you hear me?
rest in peace ... barren nights.
