Mammoth Pursues Spring Migration, Day 4

 Sat Apr 13

I chased a lot of warblers in the morning but never caught one. The pair of Canada Geese hanging out nearby were unbelievably loud. What a wake-up call for the people camping there!

Our site photos

 

The park was pretty full that day, with both campers and day users. Most people were fishing.

We took a long, slow drive down the road to the south end of the park, where we found another campground which looked brand new.  It was called Storm Creek Campground; it had big, 50-amp sites and some gorgeously huge cabins.  But there was no lake view--it was just sites cut out of the woods. There was a little lake to the south that you could walk to, and of course if you had a boat you could launch it. So it's work remembering.  (And there were almost no people there other than a very nice park ranger)

We drove back up the Crowley's Ridge Parkway. At the 'overlook' you could see, barely, at the very limit of binocular vision, the brown mud of the Mississippi River.

I think I've written about Crowley's Ridge before. To recap, it's a narrow rolling hill region rising 250 to 550 feet above the alluvial plain of the Mississippi embayment in a 150-mile line from southeastern Missouri to the Mississippi River near Helena, Arkansas. The flora and fauna of the ridge seem more closely related to the Tennessee hills to the east than to the Ozark Mountains to the west. The vegetation is predominantly oak and hickory forests, similar to vegetation found in the Appalachian Mountains. Examples are the tulip tree (or yellow poplar) and the American beech. Ferns and flowers abound here, including the American bellflower, fire pink, butterfly weed, cardinal flower, blue lobelia, phlox, verbena, wild hydrangea, hibiscus, aster, and yellow jasmine.

Fascinating place. I just wish I'd seen more birds.

Mammoth Pursues Spring Migration, Day 3

Fri Apr 12

Today the travel took us to Mississippi River State Park, which is in Arkansas and is NOT on the the Mississippi River. (It's on the St. Francis)  But it comes pretty close to being in the river's flood plain.

We went there a few years back on that fateful adventure of the leaking hydraulic line. But this time, knowing where to go and what to expect, it was easy breezy. It's a long--three mile?--drive from the visitor center to the campground, on a curving peninsula out into a little lake. It's well-laid out and beautiful. I'd reserved the very best site at the end of the peninsula; just past out picnic table is a bench that looks out over the water. It's not technically our own private bench, but it's certainly convenient.

I realized later that the two spots at the south end of the penisula are better for birding. There's a tree there which seems to breed little warbling birds. So if we go to that park again, I'll get one of those even though they're spaced a little too close together. One of them has it's own lake viewing bench, too.

The only fault I'd give this park is the lack of trails--there's a lovely nature trail just across the road, very vertically challenging. But it's only about a mile long, and the only trail is south of the campground in the National Forest area.  But I got to thinking, there might be some good places to walk along the road toward the visitor center.

Lots and lots of birds, especially Orchard Orioles. I saw a hummingbird. But no especially birds on our walks. We went around the lake to the boat launch and back. The spillway down to the creek was a long, loverly grassy slope filled with wildflowers. I wish I'd walked down it, but I wasn't wearing boots and didn't feel like wading through knee-high vegetation in hiking sandals. Lost opportunity--sucks.

Mammoth Pursues Spring Migration, Day 2

Thu Apr 11

We stayed at White Oak Lake state park another day. Following the advice of the girl at the visitor center, we drove a few miles to see the Arkansas Grand Canyon. We found the parking area on google maps, but there was no sign saying we were there. So we parked and took the little trail around, and soon found a nice view of the river and some rock formations that very vaguely resembled the view of the real Grand Canyon. At least, to someone who'd only ever seen the Grand Canyon in photographs.

 

But it was pretty and peaceful and made for a nice day trip.

For Molly's walk, I was determined to see the singer of the bird son on the little nature trail by the group shelter/basketball court. It required going off trail and standing still for a long time, but finally I had it!  Louisiana Waterthrush.

The location was correct, but the behavior not I would have expected. The books say it walks alone the ground and waggles its tail like a fine Southern lady. But this one--and presumably also the one up the hill it was calling to--was just sitting still on a lower limb of a tree.  And singing his loud, distinctive call.

New life bird for me. I didn't get a picture, but it was unmistakable.

After that we went down to find the other trails on the map. There is a very well-marked sign, with maps, down at the tent camping area. There were three or four trails of varying lengths going off. Again, they were very well marked with color-coded blazes.

We took the shortest one, the Beech Ridge Trail, which was 2 miles. The others were 3 miles or 9.8 miles. It was a lovely little trail, no birds to mention but a very pleasant walk for us both.

I don't have much good to say about Arkansas except that they have some great state parks.

Mammoth Pursues Spring Migration

Wed 10 April

The plan for this trip and the timing thereof, are evident in the title. We were heading east in pursuit of the rush of spring songbirds flowing up the middle of the country. I wanted to get out of Texas--although a lot of migrants do head through Texas--specifically to get to the warblers that stick further to the eastern states.

So our end destination was Reelfoot Lake State Park in northwestern Tennessee. Just over the Mississippi River. But there was no reason to rush to get there--there are plenty of birds in Arkansas, too.

Thus our first day took us to White Oak Lake State Park in south-eastern Arkansas. On arrival, I looked at the news and they said "Millions in Southern U.S. face flooding, tornadoes and hail from massive storm".  The storm was in Texas, Louisiana and Mississippi and luckily, not Arkansas, although it had just started in raining at about 6:30 and was likely to continue for a long time.  Felt like that, anyway.

Lovely park. We came here several years ago, in August, and I remembered it as a very nice place. What I didn't remember, were the trails.  A lot of trails. (Will explain later), No one was around except old people, except for the very young lady who checked me in at the office. And, of course, the birds were around. There were birds all over the place. We were greeted by barn swallows at the office, then chipping sparrows, mockingbirds, warblers of several unknown vintages. Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, Fish Crow, Great Egret, and oddly, a Kingfisher in the trees next to the water. I've never seen one skulk in trees like that, but that's what he was doing.

But all that would come next day, because the rain was driving us indoors for the night.  We have a lot of Doc Martin episodes to complete.

Review: The Last Cold Place

The Last Cold Place: A Field Season Studying Penguins in Antarctica
by Naira de Gracia

Sometimes poetic, often grueling, always interesting. I have overall praise for this book, a well-written memoir about a season spent as a field researcher in Antarctica. She seems to have taken excellent notes because the book is detailed and often feels like you're right there with her, at the current time and in the thick of melting slop, penguin muck, mold and goo, infinite goo. In fact, the only thing I wished she'd done differently is to capture the fun a little more. She mentions the fun times but doesn't dwell on them like she does the minutiae and the misery.

If you're interested in this sort of thing, and especially if you've ever wanted to do it, this book is highly recommended. But if you're just looking to share someone else's adventure in a far-away place, like I was, not so much. As much as I enjoyed it--parts of it--by the end I was ready for it to be over. Sorry to admit that; it's probably just me.

Review: Telling Lies

Telling Lies, Sam Mason Mysteries #1
by L.A. Dobbs

I think this was described as 'cozy', but I hesitate to call it that. The main characters were both police officers, and the murder was simply an investigation of events that happened in their small town. It wasn't especially violent or gory, but it didn't have that light and fluffy characteristic I associate with cozies. And no recipe.

It was well-written and had a great main plot plus a to-be-continued subplot. The people were pretty interesting, especially the lady cop who has a mysterious past she won't talk about. (Second subplot?)  I'd recommend it wholeheartedly...

Except, be warned. There's a dog. A mysterious, detecting dog who shows up from nowhere, comes and goes as she pleases, and helps find the body. But we never find out where she came from and why she seems to be so invested in this particular dead body. It would have been so very easy to give her a motive--maybe the person was kind to her or gave her a cookie?  Maybe she's an ex-police dog from somewhere. Why do we never find out?

Possibly she will become a fourth subplot. I'll see.

Gardening in my Roots, early May edition

 Oopsey--I wasn't paying attention to the beans and they got ahead of me.

 

Squash is lovely. This is butternut. I gave up trying to grow yellow summer squash because the vine borers always get it. But luckily, the "winter" varieties of squash seem to be resistant. They're called winter squash (butternut, acorn, etc) because they have hard rinds and can be stored without refrigeration, but they grow in the summer just like anything else.

 

 

And my snap peas are still producing beautifully--I should have a couple more weeks of these.

Review: Late Life Adventures in London and Beyond

by Annemarie Rawson

I am embarrassed to admit that I'm abandoning this at about 40%. It's really entertaining--really entertaining--wash, rinse, and repeat. I can imagine a person enjoying this to the max, especially a person who'd traveled in the places they are traveling or who plans to do so. But for me, it just goes on and on and never gets to the door.

They go places, meet people, make friends, eat a lot of really good food. And she's very descriptive--beautifully so--with phrases like "sparkling azure sea" and "fat, sweet, juicy orange crevettes." And it's lovely, lively, likeable and any number of other ell's you can imagine.

But after a few chapters, I just got tired of all the scene changes. If I kept a copy in the bathroom for reading during my short sits, it might be perfectly suited. But not for an evening's long read.

Book review: A Reckoning in the Back Country

A Reckoning in the Back Country: A Samuel Craddock Mystery
by Terry Shames

I enjoyed it almost as much as I have the others. And the reason I say "almost" is that there was a certain plot element that seemed to go nowhere in the end, and while I can understand why it was there, I can't quite see the point of it. It was a little painful, too.

If she'd brought that one and the related subplot element to a more satisfactory resolution, even if the resolution was negative, I'd have been completely happy. But, of course, 98% happy is probably pretty darn happy.

I can't wait to read the next one.