Studiology

Another Ending

Eight and a half years ago I began my guinea chapter in a blog and sadly it's over. The last one, Honeynut (as the grandchildren named him) disappeared. Two recent visits by a fox probably tells it all, even though I did my best to scare the fox with yelling and chasing. For such a small pet, that guinea had a huge presence and the yard seems so quiet. Too many times to count, he has survived owl attacks and fox predation. I couldn't say how old he was, but even if it was only 5 years, that's an accomplishment considering he lived on his own and was not penned up. Snow blizzards, 0 degree nights, and frigid cold rains were all endured in the great outdoors where he roosted in various trees at night. We even put in a stack of large logs to help him get up into the lowest branches of his favorite tree because he was struggling to make it in one attempt. There will be no more, the exercise of raising guineas is no easy task and I wish all of those that do (and love them like I do) the best of luck. What wonderful creatures.

  

January Art

The latest piece of art was built from a wooden shelf unit that looks like a little house. The unit was very old and somewhat crooked, leaning like an old log cabin might. It was also covered in crumbling paint, which was really challenging. 

After removing some of the shelves, I was finally able to move forward with a plan. This is an item that has been in my possession for a long time and has always been a source of frustration with its many compartments. After multiple false starts, I finally came up with a solution which I call "The Bird Angel". The 3 guineas at the top mimic their behavior so perfectly, I'm sure that anyone that has owned guinea fowl will be enchanted with this piece. 

There was a week long incidence here where our last surviving guinea was downed from a tree almost every night for a week. The predator was unknown, possibly an owl or maybe a raccoon. One of the old chicken coops was repaired and moved to the house, rebuilt to function and left for the next attack (if the guinea actually survived another). The decision had to be made as our guinea had spent one night in my studio (what a mess) and two nights in the kitchen, sleeping on a dowel wired to kitchen chairs. 

At 10:40 PM, the day of the chicken coop move, the guinea was attacked again, this time screaming and standing at the kitchen door, beside him a barred owl. As I rushed to see what the commotion was, the owl was lifting himself for the final kill, having already removed many of our guinea's feathers. As the owl flew off, the guinea was picked up (I have never come close enough to actually touch him), and was secured in the coop. 

That happened a month ago and all is well, at least the guinea is alive, but often refuses to go in for the night, preferring an old cryptomeria tree. I am astonished that this bird has survived for so long on its own, everyday is a surprise. And you see, this was the source of my desire to build this assemblage piece. 

This piece was built and then covered with metal paint that will rust when sprayed with an oxidizer. The stage of rust you desire can be halted by applying matte medium paint, diluted with water. I have found that the rusting process often continues, so the art will alter over time. 

As usual, these items are available at Art A La Carte Gallery in Occoquan, Virginia.

A Review

This summer is dry, hot and dry. Last year was so different, a real contrast and hard to believe they can be back to back. The garden needs water this year, the frogs need their pools filled and my night garden is extra thirsty. At least July has passed and August will eventually see a dip in night temperatures as we approach September. August is the month of morning fog, the month for moon vine and brugmansia and lots of fresh tomatoes. For that I am excited.

The guinea is still alive and the cooper hawk fledglings have left. The daily conversations between each hawk eventually ceased and one by one they flew away. I don't think my plastic owl contributed and nobody seemed to even notice him. Especially the guinea, who has yet to raise an alarm at the plastic owl that hoots randomly in the middle of hot days, and has eyes that blink bright yellow. 

The daily wisteria experiment, which began in mid April, is still ongoing. Every week I cut all of the new growth and I have not measured the growth from week to week, but it may still match or come close to five inches a day. My intent was to weaken a monster plant, one that is overreaching with large trunks that have rooted and risen to form a thicket. The reaction from my daily wisteria slashing was to launch into flower, or at least attempt to. Once again I chopped off every flower, thinking it's trying to placate me with something pretty, which of course is not based on any science. My horticultural theory is one of survival, if the wisteria believes it can't spread with new growth then maybe it can with seed. The longest wisps of new growth occur where there is a potential branch to climb up. Like the plant is seeing, which is easily explained from a sunlight perspective, less sunlight with an overhanging branch (hence the elongation). I like to think it is seeing and studies have shown that climbing plants can and do see to grab hold for support. With this belief I begin my daily cutting with a brief strut, a walk down and back, directly in front of the wisteria so it has time to "see" me. I then lift my clippers to make sure it knows what comes next. My hope is that it will "bend the knee", or at least wilt a bit. As you might imagine, none of this has happened. 

In other news, I am flying today to Sister Bay, Wisconsin. A long weekend will include some botanizing and art viewing. The day temperatures there are 76 degrees with a drop into the low 60's at night. I will be in Door County which is the little finger of land that extends up into the Great Lakes. It's cherry picking time and the location and source for the best sour cherries to make cherry bounce. A odd priority you might think, flying halfway across the country to pick cherries? Well let's just say "The proof of the pudding is in the eating" or drinking (in this case). The results will be known in November and I have high expectations.

A Guinea Summer

Not even talking about the heat, it's just a busy time of year. In the garden it's a watering, deadheading, weeding, and oh, watching butterflies. There are also the extraneous things like birthday parties, Cullowhee Native Plant Conference, and serving as a bodyguard to the guinea. In this last duty, my serious job of protection, I can share the background story. 

In late winter 2 cooper hawks built a nest in a large white pine behind the garage. A bit chatty at first, in time they became so quiet that I thought maybe they had abandoned their nest. In early summer I heard the first vocalizations of the young and could hear them flapping around as they bounced from limb to limb. In time I learned that there were 3, one much smaller than the other 2. They vocalize all day long, triangulating where each one is, it's a constant during the day. They have grown quickly in the last month and are close to the size of the parents. Since they have seen me come and go on a regular basis, they pay me little mind. It's not uncommon to find them sitting on the roof, or on the posts for the cloths line, which causes the guinea to yell in terror and me to jump up from whatever I'm doing to defend him, he is the last one. Cooper hawks are not the largest hawk, but one of the fastest and they have spent a lot of time learning to glide and then go faster. 

Yesterday was the first attempt at a real attack on the guinea, which I thwarted just in time. This is my survivor, and he has aged to a mellow sort of fellow who follows me everywhere, unless Duke the yellow lab is there, then he follows him. He stays close to the house and survived 2 owl attacks in early spring, one of which was a hit but only resulted in some lost feathers. The last hit was at 2 in the morning and he actually came into the house and let me close the door. He slept on the floor and I crawled back into bed. For any guinea owner, this is hard to believe, they regard themselves as wildly independent.

My recent concern over the hawks and my worry over the guinea's survival prompted a friend to suggest a fake owl to scare the hawks. It seems wrong, very wrong, but I can't be there every time the little raptors want to test their strength. And I will add that everyday with my last guinea has been one I'm grateful for, we have become best buddies.

Here he is drinking out my garden water bowl, which was the same watering hole for the 3 young hawks only half an hour prior.

So fake owl it is. The deluxe version, it's solar powered with a motion detector. If anything sets off the motion detector, the eyes light up and some digital owl sounds follow (hardly scary but what do I know). Now, all is quiet but the guinea hasn't seen it yet. The night is young.

Happy Spring

It may have officially arrived but it's darn cold in the AM. This morning was a 4 layer morning with the usual 10:00 thinning. I chuckle everyday when I begin to defrock, gardeners can be so plump in early spring and once we begin to wear regular clothes people think we have lost weight, but it was just a layer thing.

I toured my own garden seeking things in bloom. March can be an exciting month but really pretty dismal when it comes to flowers. The usual suspects greet me once again, although I will say that I went a bit crazy in fall with new daffodils. That's an April post. But for today I got down on the ground and photographed what I had. All of which I am grateful for.

One new addition is Corydalis solida. I used to have C. 'George Baker' but it disappeared after many years, so I splurged on 25 tubers. The straight species is lovely, as pink as anyone might want. 

In helleborus I have a few from Pine Knot Farm before they were breeding interspecies hybrids, none of these are named. Sadly Judith has passed but a new generation is keeping the nursery going, they are located in Clarksville, VA. 

Also flowering is Helleborus 'Quilty' a hybrid from Graham Birkin of England. I'm so happy to have kept one of his plants when it was easier to just sell them all when I had the plant farm. He was a terrific hybridizer. 

Hairy bitter cress is ever present, the weed that spreads its seeds far and wide. I suggest you hoe them out from the edges of your garden where they may persist in your lawn. Do that soon so you avoid the bigger problem of the explosive seed dispersal. Botanically known as Cardamine hirsuta, it's a winter annual, so simply knocking their heads off is good for now. 

As I was crawling around my last guinea was staying close, certainly wondering what had gotten into me. This last one, a male has made it through another winter. Two weeks ago it was scared out of its tree perch by a predator (most likely an owl)  and came screaming down to the door, frantic about the experience and the dark. In past years, when all of our roosting guineas would react like this, they would gather at the door under a shrub and wait out the night. The shrub is gone and there is really nowhere to hide so I had no choice but to stay with him, wondering what on earth was going to happen. Well to my surprise he escorted me to the old chicken coop, went inside and waited for me to shut the door. It's been 2 years since any guinea has set foot in that coop. We were able to both sleep through the night, the smart guinea and the tired me. They are much smarter than you think. 

And with that I wish you a Happy Spring (again)!

Guinea Tales, a Final Chapter

Since 2012 I have blogged about my guineafowl. The ups and downs, and the nightly attacks, the baby keets and their rearing. This year began with 2, we are now down to 1. A recent owl attack brought down the male companion to this last, lucky (or not so lucky) survivor. By day he joins my last chicken hen, the scrappy, fast footed hen that outlived all others, at night he is back up in a tree. 

But there will be no more guineas or chickens, it has been decided. I could go on forever with raising baby keets, or so I think and then come the worrisome, horrible cold winter nights. Not to forget the females that sit on nests for such a prolonged period only to die with their eggs and protective husband, taken out by raccoon, fox or some such night marauder. 

When the surrounding farms were destroyed for suburban homes, the foxes all moved here and our guinea and chicken numbers plummeted. Last night I heard the low hoot of a great horned owl, and he is nearby, living on this farm.  When the last guinea dies, it will be a silent night, I'm pretty certain. The guinea cries come from the ones that are left behind, the witnesses. 

What is typically found in the daylight of morning is a swath of feathers. That future morning will be the last chapter and I will not be sorry that I lived 6 years with guinea antics. Those years have been largely tick free, at least at my home ground, the reason we brought them here in the first place.

Good luck to others that persist in raising the most interesting birds that have the ability to steal your heart. Those incredibly personable guineafowl that do their best to survive against all odds.

P.S. tonight the guinea voluntarily joined the chicken in her small coop to sleep the cold night away, now that's a first!

Guinea Fowl and Art

As the wind howls tonight, I watched my last two guinea fowl go up into a cryptomeria tree. They will be chilled to the bone by morning with wind chill temperatures at 8 degrees tonight. Their usual roost is a thin white pine tree, which is far windier. In late February we lost 1 to an owl attack. Last week there was another owl hit, but a miss, which landed the 2 on the ground by our front door. Then came the fox and I woke up to pandemonium. It was still dark but lights were put on, the dog was sent out to spread his scent. With dawn I found a large pile of feathers and was certain we were down to 1. Turns out we still have 2, one has a bald place on his back. It must be dreadfully cold and drafty. 

Normally I'm still at the studio, missing the evening wanderings of my last 2 guinea fowl. Their chances of survival are extremely low, they generally have a crappy life, trying to get by. You have to wonder, do they mutter to themselves in disgust? Curses on you weather! Wind! Cold!!!!

As the official move date looms and I have to be out of the art studio, I feel depressed. So silly, I could be outside in this horrible weather with much larger problems. A small space has been opened in this tiny house and new work began today. A relief as boxes have been opened and some things gathered to start fresh. It reminded me that a couple of pieces have not been posted, the last to be finished in the studio before packing. 

The giraffe sold the day after I delivered him. A sign to continue, a good omen. 

And a better photograph of my piece from New Orleans, "The Seafarer".

Stay warm!

"Proof"

I was in the garden early this morning and spied something that confused me. It was a mantis, the Carolina mantis to be exact, our native species. Much smaller in stature, generally with a gray, mottled camouflage. Probably half of the size of the larger, green, Chinese mantis. Their damage in the garden is not as wholesale, they don't eat as many butterflies (from my observations).

As it turns out, the female mantis has just finished mating with a male, the poor guy still on her back, but he is lacking a head.

I finally have proof, bug sex is wild and crazy!
 

The Pearl Reduction

Another guinea update, this time on the wild ones, the born in the garden family. As we left off, there were 9 new babies or keets, little puff balls, not even tall enough to be seen over mown grass. I decided to not try and catch them and put them in a safer place. Within the first week, a night visitor found the mother and babies, killing and eating 5 little ones. The mother lost a fair share of feathers, but seemed fine. I was alerted by the males squawking and ran out with a flashlight (at 3 AM), which probably saved the remaining 4 and mom. The 6 male guineas sleep in a tree next to the garden and listen for intruders. I have learned that they are basically blind at night, even with the aid of a flashlight, they can't see. But clearly they hear well. 

The next night mom and babies switched locations, moving to an overgrown, scruffy area where she could hide with the remaining babies. I've noticed that they're pretty good at moving after an attack. Smarter than people think. 

The ritual every evening is the same. The 6 males escort mom and little ones to the edge of the overgrown area and wait for her to bed down, babies beneath her. Then they fly up into their tree to spend the night. As fathers go, they have been amazing, traveling as a flock all day, watching for hawks and furry carnivores as they eat seeds and bugs. 

It's been 3 weeks since they hatched and 2 days ago a hawk killed the only pearl colored keet left. Now we're down to 3. Even though these babies are still very small, they practice flying with little sprints up into the air. I guess you would call them fledglings, even though they hardly ever fly. 

Today there was a big commotion and I ran down to find a red fox under the chicken coop, guineas screaming away and the 3 little ones up on the roof. I let out my most powerful wild banshee scream, one that may have had the neighbors calling 911, fortunately or unfortunately the neighbors are pretty far away. They probably never heard me. The fox certainly did, I made damn sure of that. 

So tonight I worry. Foxes don't quit. But the good news, tonight the little keets have managed to fly up into the tree with their dads and mom. I don't know how their little feet can hold on, but they're safer up there. As long as the owls stay away. 

A little update on the others that we incubated: there were 8, now 7. Another pearl was found dead one morning, almost like the others pecked it. They are locked up and safe. When it comes time to introduce them to the other tribe, there will be days and days of fighting over dominance. They will not be recognized as relatives, even though they are. The adjustment will be tough. Did I make the right decision to leave the others? They seem so well adjusted with their family, I think I did, even if 9 are now 3. Time will tell.    

Guinea News

Today's News - momma guinea hatches 9 babies. In the overgrown vegetable patch, 14 eggs become 9 keets and today is their birth date. The first time this has happened with this kind of success (usually some vermin gets her in the night and eats all of the eggs). So what will become of these little ones? Well, they already lost 1 and I had to retrieve it and return it to mom. Not good!

These babies were hatched by the only female I had left in the tribe. Sadly, the one I called "the old lady" died last week. She had taught all of these how to survive as well as the 40 or so before them. She was not doing well and we found her dead in the garden. Too soon for her to meet the 8 we have in the house, her babies, or "the hoodlums" as my husband calls them. The result of the eggs we took out of her nest to incubate. 

I don't have high hopes for these little ones, although I'm surprised at the attention they're getting, even from the dominate males. I have been told they might die from fungal problems related to wet grass, or scooped up by a hawk. Let's hope this isn't a sad story because I'm the one that decided to let them be, to leave them alone.