A Walk Down Hart Road, Where I Saw The Black Fox

 

I haven't been on Hart Road for a long time but it's a good place to walk, little traffic, paved road, uphill all the way out and downhill all the way back. At the top of the hill, a dirt road goes off to the right. I can choose to walk down it  to extend my walk or I can turn back and make it a short mile. 

Chance and I had just started out and were maybe a quarter mile from the car, when I spied an animal sitting in the road ahead of us. At first I thought it was a cat but it exhibited strange behavior unlike that of a cat.  It sat there in the road as we approached, half turned toward us. It watched us coolly, almost sizing us up. I was curious, but I didn't know what else it could be, though what else it could be except maybe a very small dog? I wondered, though, why a little dog would be out in the middle of the road that way.  There's not a lot of traffic on that road, and it is a dead end, but the few cars that travel it drive at a good clip. It watched us cooly as we approached.

 

As we drew nearer, the animal turned and trotted into the woods. That's when I got a good look at its shape. The ears were large and erect, the body lean and fluffy, and the tail long and bushy. It was a fox, but a black fox. I've seen many foxes, but at that point I wasn't sure that I had actually seen what I thought I had seen, so I looked it up on my phone. Sure enough, a black fox is a color variation of the red fox,  thoughsightings are very rare. I wish I had had the wit to take a picture, but I  was unprepared because I'd thought it was a cat. The picture below shows a Google image of a black fox that looks much like the one I saw, except for the white-tipped tail.

 

 

After I saw the fox, I decided to record my thoughts as I was walking.

 

Here I am standing at the entrance to the blueberry field on Hart Road.The rocks spreading across the way look like a granite waterfall.  Every time I go by this entrance, I want to walk into that field. I haven't done it yet, but I think I will soon.

 

 Chance is looking steadfastly out Into the woods. He is sure that there's something out there that he wants to chase.  I'm sure, too, that there's wildlife out there that would interest him very much indeed. He may not know it, but I know that if he starts to take off he will end up leashed.

The light is beautiful this time of evening. I'm passing a field full of flowers. They're pink and profuse.  As I look closely, they appear to be in the Scrofulariaceae family. I'll have to look it up when I get home. I love Maine, I feel so blessed to live here. I can do without the winters but if I had to choose between city all year round in the South in a perfect climate, or Maine with its winters and me having to stay here, I would choose Maine.

 Before we left the car, I  turned my app on to find out how far I'm walking today. I'm guessing it's going to be close to two miles but I'm not sure. Whatever it is, it's a good walk. There are so many late season flowers around.

 Om our way back, I notice blackberry bushes. The blackberries are small and hard this year . There wasn't enough rain for them to fill out with juices. 

Chance is trailing behind me. I wish he wouldn't do that. I'd much rather see him in front of me so I can keep an eye on him. At least then if something catches his eye,  I can catch him. Truth be told, though, if I hear a squirrel, I look around to find Chance, because chasing squirrels is one of his favorite pastimes.

 I should be carrying my field glasses with me, I just saw a small bird flying right in front of me only a few feet away. He swooped, reversed course and swept around a tree, landed on a branch on another tree. After sitting there for a moment, he then took off again. I think it was a nuthatch but I'm not sure because I just can't see well enough without those binoculars.

Now I'm coming to a private road that is blocked by a gate every time I come here I want to walk down that road, or rather up that road Iwant to see what's on the other side. Maybe one day I'll run into the owner, maybe1one day I'll get the opportunity to walk up that road. In the meantime it's on my bucket list.One of my dreams.  I'm always curious what's at the end of the road.

 Just as I was thinking that I haven't seen any purple flowers which I associate with fall, I came across several bushes with purple aster. Hallelujah! Fall isn't fall without purple flowers.

 We're back at the car. My estimate was very close, 1.9 miles. It's getting  dark. Tme to go home.

An Evening Walk

It's been a long time since I blogged, but my walk this evening felt so good that I wanted to share it.

Maine is beautiful in the summer and fall.  As I walked today, I found myself appreciating the natural world that is so much a part of rural Midcoast Maine.

Stone walls are everywhere, a reminder that "Good fences make good neighbors".

A reminder, too, of just how many rocks came out of fields when plowing in the early days. Maine grows rocks, heaving them out of the ground in the spring when frost thaws.

 Dead and dying trees become home for grubs and insects, and in turn, feeding grounds for woodpeckers. Slowly the wood returns to the earth as it crumples.  The patterns are marvelous, mysterious holes begging to be considered.

A late Scotch Bluebell blooms next to a dying tree. I was surprised to see it there.  They usually bloom in July.

The blueberry field always offers a spectacular view of the bay, making it one of my favorite spots.

It's fascinating how the ripe grasses take on a feathery aspect as we move into fall. 

The last of the blueberries.  The harvesters came very late this year. I wasn't sure they were coming at all, but they appeared the last week of August, rushing in one day and gone the next.

This patch escaped their notice, probably because it was on the edge of the opposite field, which was fallow this year so escaped notice.  There are many varieties of wild blueberries in Maine, some very dark, almost black, and some the familiar blue that we associate with "real" blueberries. These are falling off the bush, ripened and left behind for birds and wildlife, and sometimes the occasional gleaner.

When I see the string left behind by the harvesters, I worry that small animals can become entangled.  I think tomorrow I'll go back with a knife and a spool to collect as much as I can.

It's easy for the unwary to be fooled.  These are not blueberries, not even in the same family. Alder Buckthorn are native to England but are found in North America. The plant is prized for use as hedgerows, but can be used medicinally as well.

 

Granite is everywhere in New England. The frost heaves that grow stones in Maine also break granite into pieces. The result is fascinating and beautiful, Earth's sculpture.