On my walk yesterday, I followed the brook trail by the Hall School. Then, as I was going along the road that crosses over the brook, I happened to look through the chain link fence to my left, and saw these huge birds resting in the underbrush near the brook. They had not been visible from the trail–in fact I went back to see if I could get a closer look, and they were completely hidden. Turkey vultures. I had never seen them in the neighborhood before, but while watching for several minutes, another bird emerged–looking scruffy like a juvenile. So maybe this was mama and papa’s protected home for raising their baby.
You never know what you’ll see in the little thickets and woods along the brook. Further along my walk, I cross over another branch of the brook. (My neighborhood is situated between two branches of flowing water that both feed into Capisic Brook.) Stopping to see what I might see, I almost missed this tiny bird. I want to guess that it might be a black and white warbler–I saw one of those last year on the warbler walk at Evergreen. But I am not sure. Anyone?
Yesterday, Margy found the binoculars, and I walked to the Evergreen Cemetery to join in the Audubon Warbler Walk. During the walk, this American redstart flew right up to where our group was standing next to the pond. I had never seen one before. How amazing that I was able to take photos of a warbler with my small camera!
I love the warbler walk because wise folks will identify and point out birds that I might not have noticed–tiny, and often hidden in thick brush, or in high branches. I am getting better at spotting them and moving between using my eyes alone and switching to binoculars. I can’t keep track of too many new species, though, so after seeing a wood thrush, a pine warbler and this American redstart, I made my way back home.
I am wondering, what is it about a screen tent that is so perfect for creating sacred space outdoors? It is somewhat sheltered from the sun and rain, and from biting insects. Yet, it is open to the earth beneath our feet, the air moving through the trees, the sounds and sights of creatures all around. So much of my connection to the land at our old home came from sitting outside in the screen tent hour after hour, day after day, paying attention, listening, sometimes lying on a blanket, often praying.
A couple weeks ago I put up a screen tent in our new back yard. This one is green–our old blue one had disintegrated after last summer. We had purchased this one several years ago on our last camping trip to Winslow Park–someone was selling it used at the campground, and since we loved our own so much, we bought it. So glad now that we did. Finally, this morning of the new moon, I came outside to pray and read my journal of this moon. Inside the tent there is a chair and a little milk crate table, and I brought a blanket to sit or lie down upon.
Today I have seen tiny sparrows chattering and feeding in the grass–I think it was a mother teaching her young one, because she gave it some food directly. I saw the shadows of cardinals jumping from branch to branch in the underbrush. The wild turkey came into the yard and rested beneath the pitch pine tree several yards away, and then while I was resting with closed eyes, she walked around, coming within a few feet–maybe checking me out.
I am reminded that I need to come out here more often in order to make a connection to this land which is new to us. And this is my sacred space, this little tent, this beautiful yard. I feel so grateful!
I was delighted to see this warbler yesterday on the trail heading home from Evergreen Ponds. The black mask identifies it as a male Common Yellowthroat. Meanwhile, I am adjusting my rhythms to July vacation days here in Maine. I have been sleeping a lot, and letting the disorientation of these open days circle me around to re-orienting my soul.
The last several months have been exhausting. So I have been napping and moving slowly, and watching Netflix. Today, I finally started unpacking a few more boxes–four boxes of books done–and soon we are going to the beach for an afternoon swim in this sunny warm weather. This morning, our next door neighbor brought over a gift of honey from their bee hives–now that is very local honey! Another neighbor introduced us to someone who mows lawns. There is so much still to do to settle in to this home. But first, finding my way back to new rhythms.
Every time I walk to the ponds at Evergreen Cemetery there is some new life unfolding. Today it was these four ducklings swimming with their mother near the edges of the pond, almost out of sight. But I also saw turtles sunning themselves on a log or a rock, frogs laying in wait for breakfast, and some goslings who are now adolescents still under the watchful eyes of their parents.
I don’t have enough time for this particular walk every day, but when I do take the time, my heart is enlightened by such beauty and vitality. Thank you!
Today I took a walk to the ponds at Evergreen and started looking at the pines where the mother owl and her babies have been living. Today I brought binoculars and our little camera. I watched for a long time. At first, I could see the mama owl from one spot on the opposite side of the pond, and I could see the vague outline of a baby at another spot across the pond. I went back and forth a few times. Then, while I was watching the mama, she moved around, and flew down to a spot lower than where she had been. I was able to get this photo of her, but through the binoculars I could really see her eyes looking back at me. Then, she flew back up to another spot behind the branches and I could no longer see her.
There were so many other magical signs of bird life today. There were five baby geese. There was a male cardinal bringing seeds to a female cardinal. There was some kind of yellow color warbler. And then I saw a movement lower down the owl pine, and saw that there was the baby owl on a lower branch, hopping about, gradually making its way further up. Amazing once again that I was able to take its photo. I think I am turning into a birder.
Our appraiser rescues injured birds!
As part of our search for greener housing, we are applying for financing with our local bank, based on our equity in our current house. That way, we don’t have to exactly synchronize the buying of a new house with the selling of our current house. Yesterday, an appraiser came to our house, as part of that process. We had de-cluttered the house and tidied and cleaned before she arrived.
But what I love about Maine is that people don’t stay on topic or on task. She noticed the striping we had put on some windows to help prevent birds from crashing into them, and we got talking about birds. It turns out she cares for injured and orphaned birds. She has been doing this for many many years, in conjunction with a local vets office. She spoke about her robin that can’t fly, but hops around on the enclosed porch, and sometimes releases the earthworms instead of eating them. She has cared for bluejays who could speak words, and a crow who liked to wait for the fax machine in her office to get an incoming fax so he could tear it apart. When possible, the birds were released after they had grown up or healed, but a few she kept on.
She described each bird by name and I love how much she appreciates their intelligence and their unique personalities. I love that she searches for the perfect beach to release young seagulls who are now able to make it on their own. I love her story of the crow barking like a dog because he had been raised around her dogs.
You never know what little delights a day will bring, and I love that in Maine, folks don’t stay on task, and you can discover kindred spirits when you least expect it.