Thursday, November 18, 2010
November Lake Visit
Friday afternoon found us winding through traffic, heading west to my beloved lake. Wheeler Lake is actually a wide spot in the Tennessee River. The river channel is across the lake following the opposite, southern bank. There, barge traffic and the occasional container ship rumble by, each secret in their mission, each compelling and comforting in their fashion. White tugs glowing in the lowering sun, we were pleased a barge timed its arrival in concert with ours.
The weather was perfect as we sat on the deck, feet propped up, shoes off to catch the balmy breezes, chatting easily and comfortably me, hubby and the teenager, who was visiting (a.k.a. "doing laundry") for a few hours before heading back to school. It was like old, good times.
My loves, the red headed woodpeckers were raucously flitting overhead boring out nests and taking care of their autumnal RHW tasks. I love the way they use their tail feathers as a brace while doing their work. This snag has always been a favorite of theirs but I'm thinking this will be its last winter. The multiple holes have been reworked so often that you can see daylight through it.
My RHW buddy was observed filling the nest hole with hickory nuts and the occasional bug, dead and ground into the buggy stew. Maybe there are babies already in there? It seems late for babies but RHW's know their agenda far better than me.
The Golden Tree Hour is beginning to exhibit its masterful moments. By Thanksgiving it is perfect but this year we will not be there for the show. This oak is one of my favorites.
Gulls were flying way out into the lake system looking like snowflakes. Deadly snowflakes. Something was spawning. Puddles of boiling water attracted gulls by the dozens, swirling overhead before plunging into the rippling water and coming back up with a treat. We watched this show for a long time, then packed up and went to Carroll's house for dinner and dock sitting. No photos from our visit. It was a time I wanted all to myself so I savored each and every moment as though they were my last for they may well be. Next post - sunrise.