Sat 5 Aug Late this afternoon there were the screams of a woman being attacked on the towpath and the harsh sounds of a man's voice. Islanders rushed to the ferry and sped across, cudgels in hand. But it turned out that the woman was attacked by a swarm of bees on the iron bridge, causing her to tear her clothes off and run up to the parkway with her male companion. This all happened before we got there, but there was a pile of woman's clothes in the middle of the bridge with a bees all over them, and a female eyewitness at the towpath side of the bridge... with no intention of attempting to cross.

Thu 10 Aug While leaving last night's meeting, Marcia Loeb commented that the evening serenade had changed. Upon arriving at the meeting earlier the evening sounds had been primarily of cicadas, which make a singular sound that is buzz saw in fashion. Departing the Island two hours later, only the katydids could be heard with their dual rhythm "katydid... katydidn't". This morning one could hear the cicadas do their thing, and the difference was suddenly so clear that it was a wonder to contemplate how one could live over fifty years before understanding this basic distinction in the every-night-sounds... to have heard all one's life but not known enough to listen. Little kids should be made to learn these things early in life lest they grow up to be like the Caretaker and experience the bitter embarrassment of ignorance. Certainly this is just another example of our cultural disconnect from nature... as before nighttime television surely every kid knew a cicada from a katydid.

Sat 12 Aug This morning there was a lone goose bathing near the captain's float... the first near the island in more than a month. There are 5 geese that have been seen around this part of the river, but by and large they do not visit us anymore. Most geese from this area migrate to nest at the Ugava Peninsula in upper Quebec this time of year. However, Angus Phillips has written that Maryland waterfowl chief Larry Hindman has returned from an inspection trip there to report bad news. Thanks to a ban on Eastern shore hunting of Canadian geese during the last 5 years, the dwindling population stocks have been rebounding. However, a series of snowstorms in the upper Quebec nesting areas starting around June 4 caused such problems of icing and deep snow cover for the geese that two thirds of the nests there were abandoned. City dwelling Sycamoreans are generally unaware of the shocking decline in the goose populations during the 1990's and tend to complain about the geese and their aggressive food begging, their too abundant droppings, and their messy feathers during molting season. But consider that we are lucky to have such complaints when elsewhere Canadian geese are a diminishing wildlife resource.

Tue 22 Aug This morning the main lawn was mowed and while taking his ease on a lawn chair afterwards the Caretaker decided to make a project of the square meter or so beneath his nose as he lay face down. How much grass was under all that creeping Charlie... how many bugs were walking around... etc? The answers are (1) not much and (2) you wouldn't believe how many. Of course... as one gazes down at the ground about 9 inches below one's eyes it is hard to pick out details at first. It is only after a few minutes one notices how much tiny movement is going on down there. And the longer one looks the more movement one becomes aware of. One reason for the scurrying was undoubtedly the recent mowing, which to that tiny world must have been like something taking the canopy off of a miniature rain forest. Lots of flying things were hovering and certainly hunting... and the ground dwellers were certainly feeling exposed, as everyone seemed to be in a hurry. It was as though some small but alien planet had just been landed upon and the tiny inhabitants were even more weird than some science fiction writer's imagination could conjure. It was quickly apparent that there was too much to catalog or keep track of... which upon reflection resulted in a feeling that could only be described as humbling.

Thu 24 Aug Last evening at dusk a guest and the Caretaker were canoeing at the up-river end of Ruppert's Island when a line of surface bubbles came out of a rock and toward the canoe like some torpedo exhaling. There was definitely an adrenalin spike. The water was shallow and clear enough even in the failing light that when we looked over the side a large dark body could be seen zooming by. By large is meant approximately 2 feet long but very wide and thick, maybe a foot. No distinguishing tail was noticed. The trail of bubbles had stopped when they approached the canoe but began again after passing, so we were able to see and follow to where the creature went... which was to a place where a tree put a tangled root system into the river... obviously a great place for a den of some sort. As we came close the guest commented that the place smelled like a zoo... and it did smell musky... hence the best bet is that we saw a very large muskrat.

Fri 25 Aug Bad news to report... Steven Paley came down to fish and discovered that his canoe was missing... and presumably stolen. Dr. Paley's 18 foot Grumman (marked with the number 27 and a decal for rack L5) was in the last rack of the canoe shed and perhaps chosen because it was the furthest away. It has been gone at least three weeks, which was the last time the Caretaker did a census of the canoe racks and noted which were empty.

Thu 31 Aug There is a path that exits the area known as the caretaker's yard that goes up-Island. Looking up, one may notice a huge, beautiful, classic, hornet's nest hanging from a tree. How such a large thing suddenly came to appear without staff being aware is a mystery. Certainly we have not noticed alarming numbers of wasps. Perhaps this is a possible reason for the diminishing number of spiders... but do not get excited here, as we only mean from zillions to billions. As a matter of fact... a reason for big excitement down here is a new field guidebook on spiders. Interested Members may request this from the Caretaker. Being forced into daily and intimate association with spiders of all sorts, it seemed logical to get to know them better, although it should be qualified that the Caretaker's Wife shares none of this spirit or enthusiasm. A particular fondness is now felt toward the interesting spider that is always spinning an orb web across the back door to the men's locker room. For months the Caretaker was always forgetting and mindlessly walking through the gossamer with much consequent sputtering and cursing. But now a more enlightened attitude prevails... the spider, now called Oscar, seems positively adorable... and catching flies to fling into his web has even been considered. The Caretaker's Wife now has some silly thought that these impulses are connected with the need for an immediate vacation.

Fri 1 Sep At first it seemed positively disconcerting... that several large petaled, green-headed coneflowers (which are actually a brilliant yellow) should suddenly take flight as though caught up in a gust of wind... and this on a windless day. It would be embarrassing to confess how many moments passed before it became apparent that one was actually observing goldfinches. The first thought was how much the coloring and markings of the birds resembled the coloring and marking of the flowers. The second was the realization that this was probably no accident. The third cannot be mentioned as it reflects upon the deficiencies of the observer. And the fourth was a paean to the Maker of All Things for the gift of being able to witness such beauty and of a very small appreciation of the Perfectness of Things. Watching the goldfinches cavort was a realization of how many times one might have walked by a commonly accepted sight in the lawn but not actually noticed if it was a clump of green headed coneflowers or a flock of resting goldfinches. Probably in many cases it was a mixture, as it is now apparent that the birds have some connection to these flowers, although whether for feeding or camouflage we have not been able to get close enough to discern. And to think I actually wondered some weeks ago... I now reflect this was about the time the flowers came on... where the goldfinches went. Yet another example of what a wonderful treasure of teachings can be found on the Island... where new and delightful surprises are always coming at you... each with the potential to be a happy epiphany.

Excerpted from the Caretaker's Log at sycamoreisland.org

-- Doc Taliaferro, Sycamore Island Caretaker