It's All About the Little Things

Several weeks ago, I was traveling from Ohio back to Indiana.  It was a stunningly beautiful January day when I left Kent, Ohio.  It was one of those "sky is clear blue with tiny strands of white clouds hanging like lace curtains" days.  Exquisite travel day.  It was one of those days when if I had been hiking, I would have noticed details like bugs on leaves, tiny pine cones in the grass, how the sun forms rainbows on leaf dew.  I am sure you've had days like that. 

But I was driving.  Home.  I instead I turned my thoughts inward to family, friends, love and beauty and the timelessness of enjoying NOW.  The winter sun, absent or clouded in winter in NE Ohio shone brightly and warmed the interior of the car, it felt just like summer and oh how good this felt at this moment to have that warmth on my fingers clutching the wheel and on my face.  Soaking up the much need Vitamin D.  Welcoming that light in that moment, opened my heart.

As I was driving, I noticed small birds flying and ugly trash blowing across the road...the contrast of beauty and ugliness, reminders that living in the moment means accepting what we judge as good or bad and dealing with it without judgement because it is just THERE in that moment and like trash blowing across the road or birds flying across one's line of sight it will be gone in the next moment.  For me this brings freedom; freedom to not be burdened by little birds that fly into your life or trash that blows through.

At the end of the day, I was greeted by the most beautiful sunset I've seen in a long time. It capped off a day where I was thankful for the tiniest thing.  The colors of that sunset blended into the most spectacular colors, pinks, purples, dusty blues and yellows.  It filled my warm heart with such gratefulness.  I felt as if Mother Nature had painted that for me so that I'd remember for a long time that if you let things build up inside, if you spend your moments dwelling on the what ifs and what wills of life you miss the what is right there in front of yous. 

 And it is in these moments, the right now moments where inspiration and gratitude reside.  I love looking at the big picture but also that day was reminded of all the little pieces that build up to make that big picture.  If you walk too fast with your eyes all the way into the future, you miss the building blocks upon which that big picture rests.  

Thanks-giving

I don't know what it is about water but it really is an amazing thing.  Let me turn on the shower, begin to hear the water run and my brain goes into creative overdrive.  When I actually step in and the water pours over me that is when the real ideas start swirling.  I swear if I could take a computer into the shower with me I'd have written a novel by now.  Its the craziest thing.  Of course, by the time I get out, the ideas are making their last turn around the drain as they whisk out into the septic field.  That feels about like what I've been creating lately...stuff ready for the ...well never mind. 

Not only does the running water in the bathtub bring on inspiration but other watery places provide similar stimulus.  Last January, while visiting Florida, I stayed in an old cypress cabin perched above the roiling, winter ocean.  Here the waves beat the rhythm of the tides against the small cliff.  The voice of the sea echoed amongst the stacked rocks of the cliff sometimes in angry vowels as it forced the salt spray into the air and at other times it whispered it's wisdom to those who would listen as it caressed the weathered mass of rocks and broken shells with soft, watery fingers.  It was here that I started a story that has yet to be finished, in the middle of it's writing, I flew home.

One summer while working as a Naturalist for a local park district, I spent a part of many working days sitting next to, walking by or doing programs close to some body of water.  I had my office next to a large lake where children and adults came to enjoy its peace and coolness.  I sat on a bench talking to park guests a footpath width away from a medium sized pond and learned from the pond inhabitants about the wisdom of the seasons.  I studied the frogs and toads and a beautiful Green Heron standing on the shore of another small pond.  From them, I learned that nature provides in abundance if you live in harmony with her.  This message I took to those who attended my programs.  I considered this time to be a peak in my creative life.

So, what does this have to do with Thanks-giving, you ask? Well, during this morning's shower I came up with a great idea which this time I remembered.  I am grateful for my creative gift but have not been doing much with it lately.  So, I decided that during this season of thanks and giving that I would try to write something, if not every day at least once a week as my giving of thanks to the creator for the gift of creativity that has been given to me.  I may or may not post everything here but I will try to write something regularly.  Maybe I'll even roll out some bio-fiction.    

 So, what would happen if we all took the time to consider our talents and then decided to gift them to our world of friends during the rest of November and December?  Who might you lift up, who might you inspire, maybe you'd make someone laugh out loud, maybe you'd heal some wounds or make a new friend.  Despite the animosity prevalent in our world today, I believe that together we stand or fall.  My passion for writing might not be yours but maybe you can bake the best pecan pie EVER (DEB!) or maybe you are a creative genius with a needle, maybe you love to garden or can paint or take photographs that inspire. 

As the end of the world as we know it approaches on December 21, 2012 some think terrible things will happen or maybe nothing at all will occur.  I think that as an old cycle ends we have the opportunity to kick off a new cycle, a cycle where we all live better, higher lives that are more focused on love, kindness and support of each other.  A cycle where we recognize the talents we have been gifted with and instead of working for years doing things we hate for money, learn to live in a world that appreciates these gifts even if they are not the traditional ones.  Like I said, I think when we all achieve, everyone wins.  So, what will you give to the world in the next weeks?

Quack! I'm a Duck!

Might look green but its DRY!

Northeast Ohio is dry. The ground in my garden and flower beds are riddled with chipmunk tunnels that now have skylights.  I watered a hole under my raised bed in the garden for 10 minutes without it flowing out under the rest of the bed...where did that water go?!!!!  The birds are all stressed looking for water, the grass is brown, WE have a fire ban, shrubbery is skeletal and all the retention ponds are dry.  So what, you say, well here is the issue.

Mallard ducks have this particular habit of nesting most anywhere and are so common here that they make their nests wherever and in whatever is available....flower pots, under bushes next to your house, on patios...you get the idea.  Strangely enough, the female will lay her eggs a distance away from any water.  With the expansion of man into wildlife habits, humans and ducks tend to collide.  

I was at the grocery which is part of a large mall area.  So big that it has two retention pond type areas. The smaller of the two closest to the giant parking lot was now dry. To get to the other one wildlife must transverse a REALLLY big parking lot.  Not just in a straight shot across either but across the bias so to speak from one corner to the furthest corner.  

On this particular day, a police car was blocking the out exit; lights blinking red then blue.  It was literally, the hottest day of the year here at least 104 degrees.  The beleaguered policeman was standing, sweat dripping from his brow, directing traffic.  In the grass next to him was a very unhappy female mallard, pacing, quacking, lifting into the air periodically to move herself quickly from one spot to another.  I thought, that is one annoyed duck. The police officer was valiantly trying to keep the duck from getting run over.

Having been a naturalist in the past, I thought I knew what was going on, so I pulled over and parked.  Approaching the police officer, I could see his frustration and asked him what was going on.  His reply was, "Third time this week I've had to wrangle ducks, the guys are going to start calling me the duck whisperer.  I can just hear them now."  I chuckled and replied, "Ducklings down the drain, eh?" which was a duh statement as you could clearly hear a duckling peeping.

Down the storm drain, were momma duck's 8 babies having dropped one by one as she took them on their first hike across the parking lot to the other retention pond.  I am sure she'd planned on water still being in the smaller pond but the drought had done its damage.  With all the peeping and us peering into the drain, others gathered; more police came with chains and big trucks.  Off went the drain cover and the problem became how to get the ducks out.  I went to one end of the drain which emptied into the pond and did my best duck quacking.  Yes, I have been practicing.  I quacked and quacked and out came the one brave peeper...all the other lazy ducklings remained in place seemingly not caring that freedom was but a short swim away. 

A neighborly person arrived with a butterfly net, I scooped up the errant baby in the puddle/pond down below.  The policemen duct taped a plastic, Chinese soup container to the end of a long metal rod and I got my bushel basket from the trunk of my car.  Together, we nabbed the rest, placing them carefully into the basket. 

By now the police had completely blocked the driveway and cars were cutting across the parking lot willy-nilly, momma bird flying around, landing here landing there...it was quite the spectacle. One of the boys was watching mom.  Finally, she took off to the north.  I crossed my fingers that all the craziness hadn't scared her so much that she would abandon her newly, hatched babies. 

Everything was put back and people dispersed.  We shook hands, took pictures of each other with the ducklings, we wiped the sweat from our brows, congratulating each other and waving good-bye as the summer sun dipped behind the grocery store leaving just myself and Kevin, the duckling whispering policeman.  I placed the ducklings in my trunk and we drove to the other pond behind the stores.  Momma was still not in sight.  We turned the basket over and out wiggled the 8 little ducklings jumping over each other to be the first down the short slope to the water. 

As the soft light of darkness glinted on the water, other ducks emerged from the edges softly quacking a hello.  But none came forward to claim the little waifs as their own.  They were happy as ducks in a pond should be and immediately started swimming and dipping under the water to nibble at algae on the rocks.  I stood and watched until thirst drove me to leave.   I crossed my fingers that momma would find them and keep them safe overnight.  Ducklings are easy prey.  Probably is why they have so many .  It is not unusual for them to lose all but 2 or 3 to predation.  

The next day I had to work early so on the way home I stopped by to see how they had fared overnight.  As I pulled up, I saw a mother duck and 5 tiny little ducklings cruising quickly towards the middle of the pond. Evidently, they felt that they had had enough of stardom and did not stay around to thank me properly.

Earth Day 2012

I started birding because of my crazy Zoology teacher.  It was in 10th grade that I made the fateful decision to take this course, a sort of next step to my Biology class I'd taken the year before.  I wanted to be a Vet and the more science I took the better.  In Biology, we'd had a lot of fun dissecting things, goofing off with the animals kept in the lab (reptiles) and scaring people with these same reptiles...you know fun stuff.  I expected more of the same in Zoology.

                                                    

I ended up with the less stuffy teacher.  He was a lot of fun, a little crazy, there wasn't much structure in the class except somehow during all the dissecting we learned things like phylum and species and how to put paper hats on Ascaris worms and diaper ,cats.  Science was fun because our teacher, despite his best efforts to make it boring, couldn't.  He loved it too and allowed us to explore, ask questions, discover.  The other class was much more structured and was taught by a very strict guy. Not that they didn't learn but we got the impression that there was no high jinx or cat diapering going on in his class.

 

In the spring, we all looked forward to two very special field trips, both were supposed to expose us to the scientific observation of the avian species. Extra credit points were up for grabs aside from the very real opportunity to get credit for playing outside for 2 Saturdays. That was what I expected...instead I found it exciting when I found a Scarlet Tanager in a tree down by Sugar Creek singing in a tree.  It was like a giant scavenger hunt with the one finding the most birds the winner. Most people just walked the trails, some guys took risks and ended up sliding down muddy cliffs and are 40 years later still be ribbed about it, others were stuck with the serious teacher and had to look for birds all day.  My group found ourselves doing a little of wandering and exploring and looking for birds.  That was the foundation which my love for birding was built upon. Wandering around, observing, exploring nature in its glory.

So, today, I have a life list which I relish adding to. I lust for high powered, expensive binoculars and have my eye on the new Crosley birding book and a book on feathers.  I keep my naturalist's bag ready in my car at all times loaded with my Sibley's guide, wildflower book and bug jars.  In fact, I think this class actually was the beginning of my life as an official nature watcher. I had always been curious but never knew that I could actually write, observe and keep track of what I saw and that this lifelong obsession would then lead to deep knowledge and understanding about how life itself works.  So, on this Earth Day 2012...get out, ask questions and have fun!  Nature is addicting. lets love it and do what needs to be done to save it!

Spring is Sprung

 I heard a Woodcock's call twice this week, once at Tallmadge Meadows MetroPark as I was pulling out of the parking lot and then again as I pulled the mail from my mailbox.  Barely, I heard the "peeent" from across the field that for me hallmarks the beginning of spring.  Some people count the skunks lined up dead on the side of the road as spring's beginning, for other's its the first crocus. I know spring has arrived when I first hear that plaintive "peent" coming from across the field. 

Woodcock's Field

Each of the past 2 springs at dusk, I'd walk to the end of the driveway starting in mid-April through mid-May and listen to that call, night after night for hours that one lone Woodcock would send his mating call into the air hoping to attract a lovely female.  Why he picked that field I have no idea.  Living at the edge of a highly used golf course, sitting next to the party tent, in my mind, is not a good place to set up housekeeping.  But non-the-less that is where his instincts drew him and he has stayed there.  I have no reason to believe that he has been successful there raising a family yet I have hope because he keeps coming back.  The cool thing about nature is that if something doesn't work, it will send an animal seeking a better situation.  There is none of this craziness of doing the same thing over and over again in hopes that the results will change.

And in my yard there are other signs of spring.  The Magnolia tree, crocus, daffodils, hyacinth AND even the Azalea bush are blooming.  Tiny, green Hosta buds are peeking out through their leaf mulch months quicker and I have no time to pull out the old stems and pull off the mulch.  Generally, in between the rain and cold, in a normal Ohio March, I have lots of time to do yard chores S-L-O-W-L-Y and get my winter drugged body up and running, so to speak.  This year, in one day I had to pull millions of those irritating white-flowered Bittercress weeds before they go to seed and send their billions of seeds into the air spreading more weed pulling misery for me.  Also, that day, I planted lettuce, peas, arugula, spinach and radish seeds.  Which meant I got to play in the dirt!!  Although, the surrounding yard was a waterlogged swamp, all but one of the raised beds were workable.  That initial foray into my spring garden is a time for celebration.  It means like the Woodcock that spring is here. 

Possible Swamp Sparrow

Wednesday, I spent the day birding with a friend.  Traveling south about an hour to flooded field area which has been set aside as a permanent wetlands area for migrating waterfowl on this beautiful, sunny, 80 degreed day was my first opportunity to bird in a long time.  I was carrying my camera, tripod and borrowed, better binoculars.  Still they were not enough to identify any of the hundreds of birds floating amongst the abandoned corn stalks at Funk Bottoms.  My camera worked well at capturing images of floating ducks, revealing the magnitude of life which depends upon the beautiful spot for either a stopover snack or as their yearly nesting area.  I found when I downloaded them at home that I'd gotten a clear picture of a Northern Pintail duck and mate which was a "'life bird" for me.  Also, we bagged a Swamp Sparrow. I can't wait to blow up a few more to see if I can identify others. 



Toad Singing His Love Song!



Despite our collective lack of preparedness for this realllly early spring, Mother Nature moves us irrevocably forward into a new season bringing new life and the hope that renewal brings.  I am grabbing onto this energy and moving forward into the unknown with Ben-Gay and heating pad firmly in hand!

Happy Spring, everyone!