Sunday, September 22, 2024

I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house. - Nathaniel Hawthorne

A similar sentiment I said to myself two days ago as we put off yard work and laundry to explore one of our favorite walking spots and later a favorite birding spot.  The sun was shining!  With the wet, cool summer and start to autumn we've had, you just can't take sunny afternoons for granted.  


On this trip, we did not see the Sandhill Crane trio of mom, dad and this year's colt we'd been watching throughout summer, but I'd already said goodbye and wished them safe travels a week before.  (Yes, I talk to wildlife.  I recently said "hi momma" to a cow moose munching on a tree in someone's front yard as her calf foraged nearby.)  


We did see scaups and yellowlegs and grebes and gulls and, of course, Mallards and magpies.  I am always happy for sightings of our avian friends, but in both places I was also focused on flora - underbrush, trees, leaves, mushrooms, moss, lichen, cattails. 



What made an afternoon like this even lovelier is that folks out and about also seemed happy and delighted with a clear, nearly cloudless day.  Most everyone said hello or smiled in greeting.  It was a delightful way to spend the day.



Thursday, May 23, 2024

Mindful

Sandhill Crane

Spring is well underway - finally! - which means more time outdoors looking for birds and any other wild critters that happen along.  An otter here, a muskrat there.  Migratory birds we are always pleased to glimpse on their journey further north or west.  Migratory birds that stay in southcentral Alaska such as Sandhill Cranes and American Robins. All the fauna, big and small, we've been out and about looking for them.  

Yellow-rumped Warbler

A few days ago I realized I'm not often reaching for my camera or my phone these days.  I'm not regularly trying to capture things to either post here or save to my laptop or keep on my phone for occasional perusal.  Perhaps without realizing it, I've been choosing to be more in the moment, more mindful of what is in front of me rather than worrying about getting a clear image for later. 

wood frog
This dawned on me after spending the afternoon at a local lagoon with my husband.  We saw lots and lots of birds including a flock we spent a good deal of time trying to identify (we're 97-ish% sure they were Whimbrels).  More important by far than photographing them was spending a warm & sunny day with my husband, having lovely conversations with other birders, and simply enjoying the birds doing what birds do.  I ought to do this more often.

Belted Kingfisher

For this post I'm including photos taken in previous rambles.  

immature Red-necked Grebe

Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Zoophilist

What a funny word, zoophilist.  According to Merriam-Webster it means a lover of animals.  That, I am.  Not every insect appeals to me, but I'm hard-pressed to think of a single animal I wouldn't enjoy seeing.  Some form a safe distance, of course (badgers, bears, big cats, alligators, poisonous snakes, sharks - you get the idea).  But critters in general fascinate me, and I delight in getting to view them.

Week before last, Tim and I went south to Seward for a few days, and we were blessed with lots of sightings in both the wild and at the the Alaska SeaLife Center.  Before going to the ASLC, I looked at their website to see what we could expect.  I noticed the amount of time for a visit was suggested as 1-2 hours.  Off the bat I thought "well, I guess we better plan for 3-4 hours" knowing full well we'd want to see EVERYTHING and likely more than once.  I was not wrong.  

Steller sea lions, harbor seals, Tufted Puffins, Horned Puffins, Common Murres, Smews, King Eiders, sea cucumbers, sea stars, sea urchins, moon jellyfish, spot prawns, rockfish, skates, salmon, cod, crabs, etc., etc.  So many creatures to view and watch!  We had a blast.  One of their harbor seals is named Tuq, and he was found at a local beach when he was quite young.  He has a neurological disorder that causes his head to shake a bit.  I could have watched him for days.  One of their sea lions swam in circles through her tank over and over, seemingly watching us as we stood in place and giggled each time she passed by.  Never mind the birds!  Who isn't beguiled by puffins?  Enchanted by Black Oystercatchers?  Charmed by Red-legged Kittiwakes?  I very much envy the folks who work there even knowing that sometimes animals get sick or die, that they sometimes face funding challenges and certainly the upkeep and caretaking is constant.  And yet they seem like a happy bunch who love to share their knowledge with guests.  I learned a lot, and asked many, many questions.  The ASLC is a gem.  

This sea otter swam so close to our perch on the beach that we could hear it chewing!

Wandering about town and a bit beyond on our own, we saw some of the same creatures - seals, sea lions, murres, moon jellyfish (albeit dead).  We also saw lots of others - two sea otters, a humpback whale, a handful of moose, dozens of Bald Eagles, about a million gulls near the Pacific Seafood processing plant, Buffleheads, Common Mergansers, Common Goldeneye, Harlequin Ducks, Surf Scoters, cormorants, and a small sedge of Sandhill Cranes flying over the harbor.  We had heard cranes while walking the docks and eventually saw a group of five soaring high above the harbor.  This made me quite happy as Sandhills are one of my favorite birds and a species I anxiously await returning in the spring.  

We almost didn't take this mid-week trip to Seward.  The weather forecast was calling for rain and possible snow showers.  We were unsure what would be open in the off season as far as amenities go.  And neither of us has traveled since before covid except for work or to see family.  We're rather out of the habit of traveling for pleasure, but we're so glad we went.  The weather was miles better than we expected, the place where we stayed was one block from the beach, and we met many friendly locals all around town.  It pays to get out of your routine now and then.  


Sunday, April 7, 2024

Trumpeter Swans

 

After spotting very large duck-like prints in the snow at a local marsh (my husband joked they were from a pterodactyl), we observed a lovely pair of Trumpeter Swans.  They were busy eating whatever vegetation they could find along the creek and eventually drifted in our direction.  It was such a treat to get a close up viewing.

There is still plenty of snow on the ground in our neck of the woods, but according to ebird.org, some migratory bird species have returned (goldeneye, Gadwalls, gulls, mergansers).  We've yet to go in search, but I hope to get out in the field more soon.  Some of these species only pass through on their route further north, and their time here is fleeting.  It's too early for Northern Pintails, Northern Shovelers, Arctic Terns, and yellowlegs but having daylight until 9 pm these days makes me hopeful for their return as well.   









Thursday, April 4, 2024

Why does break up take so long?

Break up is the term Alaskans use for spring.  Despite living here for six years, I still yearn for spring on lower 48 terms.  More specifically, upstate New York spring that is usually a mixture of rain, sunny days warm enough to open windows, snow, skies the bleakest shades of grey, and then suddenly trees green up/bud and migratory birds return.  Here in Alaska, this all takes ages and ages.  Last year we had snow on the ground into May, and it seems this year will be much the same.  


So you can imagine my longing as I peruse blog posts by folks outside Alaska that are full of trees in bloom with fritillaries or snow drops or daffodils on the ground.  (While we're surrounded by dirty snow and pothole filled roads yet to be repaired.)  It's a type of cruelty to myself perhaps, but it also brings me a measure of joy and appreciation while stoking my pining for early summer - which is pretty much equivalent to spring where I grew up.  

Hooded Merganser drake

While waiting, I'll content myself with signs of seasonal change such as melting snow, increasing hours of daylight and hearing the heat kick on less often.  

Friday, March 15, 2024

It's been a spell


If you search online for quotes about change, you could easily find hundreds, even thousands of references.  You might view some as poignant or reflective or applicable to your own life.  Some might be inane or glib.  Some might make you laugh out loud while others bring you to tears.  Whatever your response, like it or not, as living beings we all go through change.  Years pass, phases come and go, interests shift.  It happens to all of us whether we embrace it or not, whether we are open to it or not. 
 
During periods of my 30s and 40s, I sometimes thought that I needed to cling to the things that made me happy (friends, habits, jobs, hobbies, etc.) because if things were good, why allow things to be different?  I could be pretty hard on myself if my gut/heart was telling me that something was no longer serving me while my mind was saying "you can't let ____ go!  You spent money/time/effort on ____!"  I would convince myself that if things remained status quo (assuming things were overall going well), well worn paths were worth my loyalty.  Clearly, I was afraid of change.

(This, of course, didn't exclude some new experiences or new knowledge because being of the world pretty much means novelty is always coming our way.  Additionally, the people in our lives are also going through their own chapters of revision.  Thus, the proverb 'the only constant in life is change' seems spot on.)

Now that I'm in my 50s, I actively try to worry less about change.  On some level I manage to embrace it.  Even when I'm feeling fearful, overwhelmed or vulnerable.  The processes of aging, grieving loss and acknowledging my limitations helps.  Remaining curious about the world helps, too.  Carrying on with practices that continue to bring joy is indispensable.  


The idea from that last sentence has brought me back to this blog.  I can hardly believe it has been years since I last posted. Looking for things to photograph and taking the time to put my thoughts down was an enjoyable practice.  It made me pay attention to details and enhanced my motivation to get out into natural spaces.  So why did I let it fall away? 

Well, a lot has happened since June of 2021 - both in a wider, planetary context and certainly in my own life.  My mom went into a nursing home in late 2021 and passed away unexpectedly and quickly eight months later.  Just seven months afterward, my older sister (and my oldest friend) died the day before her 52nd birthday, mere weeks after being diagnosed with metastatic cancer.  Shortly thereafter, we lost my Aunt Barb.  

While in the process of mourning, it can be near impossible to find joy or practice gratitude or just not feel numb.  These last few years have been a whirlwind and held some of the saddest days of my life, frankly.  Yet somehow there is a feeling of late that I've gotten through the worst parts of grief.  I don't know that it will ever be fully resolved, but my spirit feels less weighed down by my sorrow.  So I'm hoping to photograph and write more often.  To actively look for birds, mushrooms, sweet cat moments, eye-catching landscapes, crafty things, etc., etc. and post about them.  I hope whomever bothers to read this will also find something worthwhile.