Writing
My two friends, pen and journal, understand me,
more than myself.
Nature Provides Common Ground, if We Listen
Why do people really enjoy learning new things about Nature when nearly every other topic of discussion these days seems to be a hop, skip, and a jump away from a brawl?
You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who gets their dander up and starts an argument that degenerates into questioning your heritage when you share with them that their belief about touching wild baby birds is wrong – it doesn’t cause the babies to be abandoned by their parents. Put the baby bird back into their nest the next time (if you can find it)!
Continue reading here.
Wisdom of the Chipmunk
My pack was pulling me into the center of the earth, my legs were burning, and every time I looked up, the pass seemed to be crawling away. The whole ordeal was killing me. So I stopped, threw my pack down, and collapsed on the incline. The weather was threatening, so I knew I had to keep moving, but I couldn’t.
Then I saw the chipmunk. He was darting up the switchback ahead of me. Although at first glance he seemed to be scurrying along in fits and starts, he always stopped when the switchback turned. Right at the corner he paused, occupying himself with cleaning his little paws and looking around at the scenery. Then he was off again until he reached the next switchback corner. Continue reading here.
Then I saw the chipmunk. He was darting up the switchback ahead of me. Although at first glance he seemed to be scurrying along in fits and starts, he always stopped when the switchback turned. Right at the corner he paused, occupying himself with cleaning his little paws and looking around at the scenery. Then he was off again until he reached the next switchback corner. Continue reading here.
The Towhee of Notre-Dame
Her thin, elongated feet and delicate toes are mechanisms of terror for the unsuspecting. Her bright, umber brown eyes are still, alert for an identifiable shape, any movement on the nearby ground.
She steps forward. Cocks her head. Watching. A constant day-long dance with only a few pauses to preen, to take care of herself. Throughout it all, except when preening of course, a high-pitched call, coming in single bursts, one at a time, spaced evenly, bill filled with prey or not, fills the air throughout the day – Nature’s metronome.
Her presence stilled my own. She reminded me of what matters. Every morning. Every afternoon. Continue reading here.
She steps forward. Cocks her head. Watching. A constant day-long dance with only a few pauses to preen, to take care of herself. Throughout it all, except when preening of course, a high-pitched call, coming in single bursts, one at a time, spaced evenly, bill filled with prey or not, fills the air throughout the day – Nature’s metronome.
Her presence stilled my own. She reminded me of what matters. Every morning. Every afternoon. Continue reading here.
