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?

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!