Walk In The Park: What Do You Do In A Pandemic?

Death can be as common as the common cold.
We have taken everything for granted,
but we forget that we are only travelers here for a short time.
So don't play the bus driver
when you don't know how to drive.

― Anthony T. Hincks

Well, it could be so much worse.

I'm supposed to be sitting in a hotel in Ireland right now. We had planned to travel from Austin to New York earlier in the week (we would maybe do a little birding in Central Park,* visit the Vessel,** and take a hike on the Highline***) followed by a flight to Dublin where we would hang out in St. Stephen's Green**** or the National Museums ***** near our hotel. On Sunday (yup - TOMORROW) we were to attend a concert with Martin Hayes****** and many friends (some we have heard and some we haven't, but we trust Martin) at the National Concert Hall.

But after watching the news like a hawk it became clear our plans - made at a time we knew very little about the coming storm - were not sensible for a number of reasons. Since the time we pulled the plug on the trip, New York has become a center of spreading disease, all travel from Europe (now including Ireland) is difficult - almost guaranteed to result in a 14 day quarantine, and the concert - the purpose of the trip - has been canceled.

So, I could be sitting in a hotel in Ireland - madly wiping down everything and wondering what we could do, where we will eat, how we could be safe in this strange city, and how the heck we would get home while avoiding 1) getting sick and 2) ending up quarantined.

We have a lot going on (I know, I know. Everyone has stuff going on. But we are supposed to be closing on a house and moving. We also have a number of doctors' appointments that we really should not miss.). The logistics of dealing with a quarantine make this current "social distancing" look like, well, a walk in the park.

So, I am most grateful to be home. I am sitting on the sofa with a sleeping cat on one side and a sleeping dog on the other. True crime stories are playing on the TV. DH is in his digital world. We are safe.

As we move forward, we must remember we are all in this together. The same moon reflects back on us all. The same sun shines. I think we forget this sometimes. I know I do.

What do you do in a pandemic?

1. You make decisions like a grown up. Yeah, I hate that too, but now is the time. Listen to the experts/follow the rules/WASH YOUR HANDS.

2. You check on folks who may need some help. Since many of our friends are older people like us, we have plenty of folks to check on.

3. You check on the kids and make sure they know you are "adulting."

4. You catch up on the laundry.

5. You finish the taxes even as you wonder if the accountant wants paper documents or if you should scan and send them electronically.

6. You go to the ponds to see what's shaking.

7. You take a walk in the park (over the next few months there will likely be MANY such walks).

8. You start packing for the move.

9. You post your wildlife observations in a timely manner so you don't lose the photo disc (and post some for those who cannot get out).

10. You read and write and live your life - counting your blessings (number 1 being that you are not stuck in a foreign country trying to figure out what your next step might be).

Here are a few of the plants and animals we got to see because we weren't in quarantine and could social distance while monitoring the ponds and the park:

Today's weather signaled that an eagle would be at the ponds. Of course it was there! It perched, called, and flew - swooping low over the pond - three times. On the third swoop the eagle grabbed something from the water and flew westward toward its nest. I could have stopped there, but went on for the start of what might have been a record day of observations - mostly common things, but never common to me.

I don't cry when I see them anymore. Well, I may still tear up a bit...

Greater Yellowlegs - I still don't know the difference in "greater" and "lesser," but the experts help.

Eastern Phoebe (I think I saw 3 or 4 at the ponds).

Busy bathing - Canada Geese

The cormorants were drying their wings too.

I thought I had a better photo of a Meadowlark, but this might be the best of a load of bad ones. I'll miss them when they are gone...silly birds.

Morning doves are so much more that the grey shapes we see from a distance.

I wish I could describe the sounds of the morning. At the ponds the strange buzzy call of the Red-winged Blackbirds was punctuated by other calls - mockingbird, eagle, Red-shouldered Hawk and more. The Northern Cardinals were calling from high in the trees and the Eastern Phoebes called their name. I never thought I'd be able to "bird by ear," but find myself doing it more and more. Of course, I still have to refresh my memory with each seasons visitors - even as I refresh my identification of the ducks (by the end of the winter I know them all by sight, but forget just in time for the CBC - I cannot be trusted when it comes to ducks).

I saw no herons or hawks in the park, but there were other birds all around and a surprise.

Downy Woodpecker - there were three fighting for space. This was the winner.

This is the first Pied-billed Grebe I have seen in the park - not to say they are not frequent visitors. I'm looking forward to walking here most days. The new house isn't far so we will continue our monitoring (as we avoid humans).

The Phoebes were harder to see in the park for some reason. Finally.

Oh the noisy ones - I have such a love/hate relationship with these jesters - Blue Jay.

In the park the wildflowers were budding and blooming. I took some time to snag photos of whatever held still or smiled brilliant color into the warm air. I wanted to add a few more, but my Google storage is full. I suspect I'll be moving the blog. Stay tuned.

Texas Bluebonnets, Common Stork's-Bill, Rain Lilies, Wine Cups

Common Stork's-bill

Grape Hyacinth - these are everywhere. I need a photo of Z in the hyacinths as well as the bluebonnets.

Mexican Buckeye

Redbud

Mountain Laurel

I grabbed this photo of the old bridge while trying to get a shot of the message left behind the tree where the hawks once nested. People leave messages for people in the jail across the creek. This was well hidden and survived park cleanup.