If A Tree Falls....

Great winds only challenge great trees. 

~ Matshona Dhliwayo

March 6, 2020

We had quite a storm this week. The rains came pouring down followed by winds so gusty I fought to stay on the road. Why was I driving around? Well, there were errands to run...it's been that kind of week.  I was checking the "new" house for drainage as well as the ponds for what might be present or take flight. 

We have been in early migration for some time and some days there is a bit of drama in the presence or absence at the ponds. On Sunday two weeks ago I noticed some shifting in the duck population. This week the Redheads were gone. 

My first drive-by  was slowed by the presence of turtles wandering the road and field.  No one needed rescue, but I needed to document. Of course, turtles are pretty slow and provide ample opportunity for bad photos.

As I headed back from the turnaround my eye was drawn to enormous movement at the corner tank. The solo tree at the front was falling....a huge splash went up...flocks of cormorants and ducks fled the area...the trunk came to rest in the shallow pond. 

No, I didn't hear it. The windows were up because of the wind. All I heard was someone crying out many things including "No, no, no!" 

What a loss! How many birds have perched in this tree? How many first sightings has it provided? 


I stopped and messaged a few fellows who hang out here with better knowledge, eyes, and equipment than I possess and for whom the loss would matter. 

Change is hard. All will adjust. It is another day in the wild.


What birds have I seen perched on this tree?

Bald Eagle
Pileated Woodpecker
American Kestrel
Merlin
Peregrin Falcon
Belted Kingfisher
Great Blue Heron
Great Egret
Cormorant
And a host of other birds...

September 30, 2020

Today is the 10th anniversary of my mother's death.  My dad died years ago September 2. And my dear husband died almost three months ago. 

Grief and loss is part of life as is joy and boredom and frustration.  Brother John Totten* always said that there were two ways of looking at anything. After explaining concept and noting comprehension/understanding on our faces he would gaze at us with gentle and smiling eyes as he said, "on the other hand" (and laugh a shy and soft giggle). Then he would make us stretch our understanding and pull us along with him into insight.** He encouraged us to seek insight by trying to see things beyond the simple facade. He could have said "go deep." Instead he used that word - insight.

My mother always seem to do the same - to see the other side of things. She would give voice to it. This is what's happened and this is how I feel, but....

And I learned. There's always another side. Sometimes it's difficult to see it, but it is there.

This blog has been a place to record adventures and meaning - and sometimes a place to peek into the other side. It has been a way to sit quietly and work things out and, upon occasion, reach insight.

But now I've run out of memory (Do not worry. I'm fine. It's a data thing...probably too many photos and too much mail). So I'm moving along to a new blog.***

It seems a perfect time to do so. I'm still working through things...still spending time in the wild and finding meaning as we grieve and celebrate. You are welcome to come along. If you are a regular reader, you will find this message. If not...

NOTES:

* Brother John Totten, SM - https://www.marianist.com/files/2017/05/Bro.-John-Totten-obit.pdf

His grading system was completely "other." He would give a "check," a "check plus" and more. At some point, if you were lucky or in the zone, you would get a big "I" for "insight." He scored each essay answer.   [I live in the hopes of finding one of those tests squirreled away in a box somewhere. I DO have a letter from him - a response to a "thank you" I sent him.]

**  Insight- noun: the capacity to gain an accurate and deep intuitive understanding of a person or thing.

*** https://walkswithfriendsanddogs.blogspot.com/2020/09/just-getting-started.html

Eagles at the Pond

The eagle suffers little birds to sing, 

And is not careful what they mean thereby, 

Knowing that with the shadow of his wings 

He can at pleasure stint their melody...

~William Shakespeare, from Titus Andronicus

[Photos added when I find them on the disks]

1-31-20

I've seen the eagles at the ponds on Witter Lane a number of times. I can almost count on seeing them on a misty/foggy morning. So I wasn't really expecting to see any eagles this morning. It was sunny and bright.

But there it was - high above the tank at the corner. When the eagle is watching there seem to be fewer birds around. I've yet to see one with prey. But all seem to keep watch. I've seen flocks fly over and make a detour as if thinking better of stopping where the eagle waits.

How far away is the eagle from the road where I've stopped. It's a ways.

Even at this distance, there is no doubt what is perched at the top of the tree.

2-15-20

While scoping out locations where the Spotted Chorus Frog had called in the past I discovered the juvenile Bald Eagle perched over the pond. The other birds were "aflutter" as you can imagine.

Because of the way the bird was perched, I managed to get a (bad) photo from front and back.

2-16-20

I led a group to hear the Spotted Chorus Frog and the Bald Eagle showed up - twice. In preparing for this little gathering I made a number of trips to the ponds last week...so I also saw the juvenile Bald Eagle once. Those photos are not the best, but I will post if I can find them again.

Mid-morning:

 Afternoon:

My friend shared his photos of the eagle. He got some doozies!*

February 18, 2020

Another misty day and the eagle threw its head back and looked like it was howling. I wonder if the proper terminology is "vocalizing."

October 2019

[Yes -- this is out of chronological order. I just want to save all the eagle shots somewhere. I didn't blog about it back in October so I'm catching up.]

On the way to the clay on a dreary foggy day, I stopped in at the ponds. MAGIC!

I noticed one adult that called and flew away. I stopped for photos of the juvenile. Then both adults came and one appeared to be trying to "set the young'un straight." Kids don't listen.

This is the dismal day that taught me eagles like this nasty weather. This is how far away they were. The adults are to the left and above. The juvenile is the lowest.

"I thought I told you that you could not leave the nest!"

"Yeah, I did too!"

Juvenile: "You guys talking to me?"

Here are the other shots saved from that day (the adults stopped yelling - really a kind of peeping - and just gave me some "eagle" poses:

Even though the photos are not the best technically, the experience stays with me. Now I try to head out to the ponds when the day is misty and dim...and there is often at least one eagle waiting.



NOTES:

* Photos by Hunter Yarborough - all rights reserved. These three are his from a bright day when we were out to hear some frogs, but more than a few birds came calling. The rest of the photos are mine.

Hobbes - A Farewell

It is a difficult matter to gain the affection of a cat. 

He is a philosophical, 

methodical animal, 

tenacious of his own habits, 

fond of order and neatness, 

and disinclined to extravagant sentiment. 

He will be your friend, 

if he finds you worthy of friendship, 

but not your slave.
― Théophile Gautier, Menagerie intime 

And in the end, he will leave you.

Hobbes arrived at our home in 1999. He first wandered in the back door as DH and I came home from a walk in the neighborhood. He was a stray from way down the street. Thin as he was, it was clear he wasn't being taken care of by anyone. We figured he would fit right in with us.

Hobbes was here for the Millennium Party and for twenty years of celebrations and sorrows. 

He was a good cat. In his prime he was protective, killing an occasional roach or mouse.

He was also a troublesome cat, eating plants and flower arrangements and then discovering that such meals did not suit. And he shed...a significant amount.

Hobbes liked a warm lap and attention.

He was good company and purred his appreciation for yours. 

While his health was not good the past few months until the last few days he could still jump up to the top of the washing machine or on the counter or table top - and then proceed to knock everything off. He didn't even pretend to care.

He was a finicky eater - preferring Zelda's kibble or Bitty Kitty's food to his medically approved food.

He developed a yodel-like cry of late.  And one needed to pay attention.

He continued to watch for one last chance to escape into the wild.

He made it out the door while we were loading the car for a conference in 2018 and was gone for a few days.  I came back (we were just staying 30 minutes away) every morning and searched, but found nothing. We later discovered that younger toms living next door kept him at bay. But neighbors a few streets away cared for him until we got the word about where he was hanging out. We walked a few blocks over, thanked the neighbors profusely and brought him home.

He escaped one more time in 2019 and made it across the street to the neighbor's flower bed...then, exhausted, he allowed us to catch him.

Hobbes battled a few ailments as most old cats do, but managed to keep his all his teeth!

He was loved by the family and respected (tolerated) by the vet's staff. [Well, a couple of them loved him - even with his cranky "I'm not taking that pill" ways.]

When he started losing weight we worried. And when he could no longer jump up to the counter we lifted him and knew time was short.

This morning he woke, but did not/could not get up.

We will miss him.

His FB page indicated his birthday as March 5, 1992, but that was a lie. He fudged a bit to be old enough to have a page, Mom got a "reminder" of the imaginary birthday and put together a small celebration.

He loved a good spot in the sun.

He loved a warm lap. It looks like the heat was off here.

A head scratching was always good.

And a game of hide-and-seek

He was excellent at cat naps

And yawns.

I said "NO FLASH!"

He wanted to be where you were and interfered with many a project.

He lounged on anything black (the better to show off his fur) and always tried to stow-away in a suitcase.

He hated costumes....here a Christmas Longhorn.

Maybe he hated Christmas. He was good at un-decorating the tree and once threw up on an artificial tree. Wait. Maybe he just hated artificial trees.

"Where's supper?"

"Nope. You don't need to make the bed. I'll nap like this."

He enjoyed a good fight and left marks on us all.

Hobbes chose not to learn how to walk on a leash. "Whose bright idea was this?"

He was a voracious reader of chapter books.

Did we mention hide-and-seek?

"Cannot see me!"

"Okay. You got me, but you will pay!"

He was an average sized cat. The vet loved it. The vet staff loved Hobbes and humored him when he visited.

Hobbes Sandwich

He was loved.

Sometimes he was tolerated.

 Rest easy, Hobbes. 1999-2020