Thursday, May 1, 2014
Monday, August 19, 2013
Back in 2008, 2009...
There was a light snow falling this morning at World's End. It's the last day of the year, 2008, time of so much change with so much more to come.
Typical sightings in 2008, even during the drought: heron, egret, gull, hawk, falcon, crows (noisy humans), finch, sparrow, blue jay. Humans are the invasive species, not coyote or wild turkey.
Many large trees have fallen in the forest due to summer storms and recent nor'easter winds. The forest is always changing, which is one reason I enjoy walking through it every day, if possible. The days I don't get to walk in my favorite place aren't necessarily bad days, but they aren't as balanced.
Treading the trails of these ancient drumlins, my rhythms realign. Regardless of what sleep was lost or bad news recently received from relatives afar, all sadness melts away in the vast open space of this place. (After visiting forests near Portland, Oregon, I have to change "vast" to "large!")
Each day reveals new rock formations, various animals and evidence of wildlife, changes in foliage. Each path offers treasures of the natural variety, and I choose my mediation based on what I know of the path. Weather is a factor, too, because the bay and harbor-front paths are windier on cold days, necessitating special clothing for protection from the elements.
Day after New Year's 2009: a good day to see tracks in the snow, most likely a jackrabbit, perhaps the same one I saw the other day? Nah, probably too far from the other spot, though I don't know how
large a rabbit's territory actually is. Who knows? Wondering what the bluebirds who stayed behind will eat this winter; they looked awfully robust flying around the back path this afternoon. Bluebirds eat bugs, so what gives? I must consult my favorite ranger, the physicist, who told me: "the migration trip was too expensive for the birds, and so therefore many were opting to remain behind and wing it, pun intended!"
I am still trying to learn bird calls. I t would improve my identifying abilities dramatically. Cardinals, for instance, have several different calls. Just listen to Lang Elliot's audio works and you'll see how all those different birds you thought you were hearing were all cardinals.
The ice floes are beautiful in the winter. The salt pond is lovely with the gradations of thickness, designated by the varying shades of grey.
Typical sightings in 2008, even during the drought: heron, egret, gull, hawk, falcon, crows (noisy humans), finch, sparrow, blue jay. Humans are the invasive species, not coyote or wild turkey.
Many large trees have fallen in the forest due to summer storms and recent nor'easter winds. The forest is always changing, which is one reason I enjoy walking through it every day, if possible. The days I don't get to walk in my favorite place aren't necessarily bad days, but they aren't as balanced.
Treading the trails of these ancient drumlins, my rhythms realign. Regardless of what sleep was lost or bad news recently received from relatives afar, all sadness melts away in the vast open space of this place. (After visiting forests near Portland, Oregon, I have to change "vast" to "large!")
Each day reveals new rock formations, various animals and evidence of wildlife, changes in foliage. Each path offers treasures of the natural variety, and I choose my mediation based on what I know of the path. Weather is a factor, too, because the bay and harbor-front paths are windier on cold days, necessitating special clothing for protection from the elements.
Day after New Year's 2009: a good day to see tracks in the snow, most likely a jackrabbit, perhaps the same one I saw the other day? Nah, probably too far from the other spot, though I don't know how
large a rabbit's territory actually is. Who knows? Wondering what the bluebirds who stayed behind will eat this winter; they looked awfully robust flying around the back path this afternoon. Bluebirds eat bugs, so what gives? I must consult my favorite ranger, the physicist, who told me: "the migration trip was too expensive for the birds, and so therefore many were opting to remain behind and wing it, pun intended!"
I am still trying to learn bird calls. I t would improve my identifying abilities dramatically. Cardinals, for instance, have several different calls. Just listen to Lang Elliot's audio works and you'll see how all those different birds you thought you were hearing were all cardinals.
The ice floes are beautiful in the winter. The salt pond is lovely with the gradations of thickness, designated by the varying shades of grey.
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