A good egg and my son remembers his dad

Mom on the nest and she's won't budge.

A mad mom keeps a watchful eye on the home owner who  trying to get a good look at her nest and the egg inside it.

A Baltimore Oriole hangs around my blossoming cherry tree.

AUBURN, Maine – Every spring, I inspect my green hedges that surround my front yard, searching for nests with an egg in it.

The nests are usually empty, but I discovered one several days ago with an egg laying there, apparently abandoned by mom and dad.

But as I moved closer to examine my exciting find like an eight-year-old child, a large mockingbird let out a screech, warning me to back off.

The mother was peering down at me from high up in my blossoming cherry tree — and she meant business.

I slowly moved away, never taking my eyes off mom for fear of being dive bombed by the angry parent. Getting picked off by one of our fine-feathered friends hurts.

“Take it easy, mom,” I said. “Have no fear, ma’am. I am just another curious hominid marveling at your offspring like a little boy.”

Mom wasn’t buying my explanation, stood her ground and gave me the evil eye.

I surrendered the high ground and went back inside my home to watch from the window to see if this protective mockingbird would return to her nest.

She did and nestled in to keep her vigil.

Our front lawn draws a variety birds because those hedges act like a natural barrier between cats and other predators that can’t penetrate the protective thicket and strike at our winged friends.

Each spring, a pair of mockingbirds return to hang out there, chasing away other birds with a vengeance as they nest in my hedges. 

That’s why we have bird seed and sewett hanging on poles in the middle of the front lawn. They put on show just five yards from our picture window.

I have witnessed mockingbirds shooing away large crows and blue jays. Fearless mockingbirds are the neighborhood bullies who stake out their turf without mercy.

But I always enjoy nature’s live show in front of our picture window.

The return of birds in the spring reminds me that I survived another harsh Maine winter and have another opportunity to enjoy a splendid summer and fall.

Anyday above ground is a good day.

What a son of a gun

The past year, Anthony, a University of Maine at Farmington junior, co-hosted a two-hour afternoon show on WUMF — the school’s radio station can be heard on the Internet.

During his last show of the season this week, Anthony decided to play “Sarah” on Fleetwood Mac’s “Tusk” as a tribute to his old man.

So what’s the big deal, you ask.

Well hear out a dedicated father for a moment, please!

Being the family storyteller and a journalist, I have been feeding Anthony’s stories of our lives since our son dashed down the hallway in a diaper.

Anthony enjoys stories from our past. I told him about my radio show at Norwich University in Vermont. We had recently got the album “Tusk.”

I played “Sarah” that evening and was sure the band had another hit coming its way.

Anthony returned the favor last Tuesday. 

That’s what sons do for their fathers.

A walk in the woods and thoughts about an old friend

 

    POLAND, Maine - The weather is absurdly warm, but as long as our oil furnace is silent and I am not contributing to the wealth of greedy speculators and Middle East corporations, I welcome the strong sun and melting snow in March.

    To celebrate this salubrious March day, we ventured into the cool Maine woods at Range Pond State Park - which has 1,000 feet of pristine shoreline and clear, cool water surrounded by miles of hiking trails. Take your bike or stroll the walking paths at Range. It doesn't matter; it is all good for your health.

    This oasis, which lies just 10 miles outside the Twin Cities, is a great way to beat the summer heat. The lake is fine area to try your hand at fishing and check out gawky loons that saunter past you. The hiking trails are shaded by tall pines.

     The ice is just starting to melt, but the sheet of white slushy stuff is quite a contrast against the searing sun. Winter always lingers in this state, and its calling card is stubborn ice and snow that lies in the shady areas of the woods until April.

     The two-mile hike brought us to the sandy shore where we found a vacant bench drenched in shade. We enjoyed the cool breezes off the icy water as we washed away our thirst with a cooler full of water.

     Anthony tossed rocks and dipped his legs in the frigid water to cool off as the mercury reached the 75-degree mark.

    Spring arrives on Tuesday, but New England just might skip that season and move right on to summer with temperatures hovering around 80 degrees during the middle of the week.

     There was a sparse group of Mainers who also thought it would be a pleasant way to spend a hot March afternoon near a lake encased in ice. 

     Just think, in another month and a half, all of us will immerse ourselves in Range's cooling waters to take cover from summer's impending heat.

Blast from the past

     It is amazing how many walk people in and out of our brief lives. 

     Ken Freeland flew right into my airspace at Norwich University nearly 34 years ago. We have been friends ever since and frequently reach out to each other as the decades have rolled past us.

     We became roommates at the Vermont military school for the five months. For some reason, we became friends in the first five minutes. Throw in John Connor and we became the Three Musketeers who had one helluva a time trading barbs and sampling fine booze in our cramped quarters. We were three comedians who gave the Norwich establishment a run for its money.

     Ken is a character, but that could also be said of me. Somehow, we mesh even though we are different. I guess that's why they call it friendship, which has endured for over three decades.

    Marriages don't last that long, and yet, our friendship was forged in less than a year.

     Last week, Ken left Connecticut to travel to Maine to purchase an expensive dog — and grace the Blasi household with a visit.

     I was honored.

    That last time we saw each other was seven years ago, which was far too long gap in our friendship. We have always stayed in touch by email or telephone.

     His visit was important to me. At this stage in my life, when many friends and family have died the past two years, I try to keep my channels open with people who actually give a damn about me and are still above ground.

    Well, his visit did me a world of good, and it was great to share a beer and reminisce about our glorious past.

    I think we will be seeing more of each other because we both understand we are all short-timers in this grand universe.