nature

Past Solar Eclipses Inspired Peace

/ Tracy Abell / 9 Comments

I’m taking a break this week from my usual Climate Movement Monday post to instead focus on the solar eclipse. To be clear, I made exactly zero plans to see the eclipse and don’t have much to share on a personal level. In fact, Zippy, Emma, and I were out on the open space trails when I thought to ask Zippy if we’d get home in time to use our colander during the partial (65%) eclipse in our region of Colorado.

Nope.

Turns out, it was already 12:48 our time (peak eclipse was at 12:40) and while the light had a strange cast to it, we couldn’t really see much cool stuff in the shadows. I checked out a thistle to see if it made crescent shadows . . . nope.  Zippy pointed out that the shadows cast by our fingers had kinda fuzzy edges, but that was the extent of our eclipse experience.

But this morning I’d come across an article from Erin Fehr in Native News Online: Centuries of Indigenous Knowledge Found Along the Path of the Total Solar Eclipse that contains some very cool stories such as the Cherokees’ story of a giant frog that swallows the sun and the Choctaws’ story of a black squirrel that tries to eat the sun. I highly recommend reading the entire piece but want to highlight a couple excerpts:

Solar eclipses have also been central to historic events, like the birth of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy. On August 22, 1142, a solar eclipse occurred near modern-day Victor, New York, where the Five Nations were meeting to form the Confederacy and end the strife among their Nations. Oral history suggests that the fifth nation, the Onondagas, were the last hold-outs, but the total solar eclipse convinced them to join in bringing peace to the region.

Reading that, I couldn’t help wishing that we still lived in a time in which celestial events could inspire collaboration and peace among humans. And then Fehr goes onto share this information:

Tenskwatawa Courtesy (Courtesy of National Portrait Gallery)

In 1806, Tenskwatawa, also known as The Shawnee Prophet, was in conflict with then-Governor of Territorial Indiana William Henry Harrison, who later became the 9th President of the United States. Harrison was upset by the call for tribal unity in the region, fearing that a united front would be harder to overcome [emphasis mine]. He challenged Tenskwatawa to prove himself.

“If he is really a prophet, ask him to cause the sun to stand still, the moon to alter its course, the rivers to cease to flow, or the dead to rise from their graves. If he does these things, you may believe that he has been sent from God.” 

In response, Tenskwatawa predicted an eclipse of the sun in 50 days. 50 days later on June 16, 1806, a total solar eclipse hid the sun across parts of Indiana, solidifying his position of authority. 

The article doesn’t say whether Harrison quit trying to foment dissension as a result of that prediction, but reading that excerpt made me wish–again– that this solar eclipse had the power to convince our so-called leaders to quit their violent, colonizing ways.

Anyway, I’m glad I found and read that interesting article. Did you have a solar eclipse experience today? 

Edited to add: stunning eclipse photo and plea from Climate Defiance to JUST LOOK UP and join the climate struggle.

For Dillon

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

You never got to see a Northern Harrier, so here are two slightly blurred but fully authentic photos of the harrier I told you about exactly one week ago when we were shoveling that heavy snow together, when you were being your typical generous self and helping clear the enormous snowplow-created snow berm so that Zippy and I would be able to get out of our driveway if needed.

Both images by Zippy. March 11, 2024

You delighted in the fact I’d just learned from Zippy: Northern Harriers have owl-like faces that help them hear prey as they fly low above the ground. I wish you’d had the chance to see and identify one when working with your surveying crew so that you would’ve won the “Raptor ID Pie” for that week.

Even more, I wish you were still here with your easy smile and enormous heart. I wish we could have more conversation about birds and nature and dogs and streams, just a sampling of the many things that brought you joy, but I’m grateful for the time we did share and I hold those memories close.

My heart is shattered. I hope you knew how much you meant to me.

Rest in peace, Dillon.

Wordful Wednesday: Geese & Gaza

/ Tracy Abell

Isn’t this a serene image? Five geese winging their way through blue, blue skies? Aren’t you glad you can view this in the safety and comfort of your home?

Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge. March 11, 2024

On February 1, I wrote about the Biden administration callously suspending funding for UNRWA (United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees) because of unfounded allegations against some of the workers. In the time since, Israel has offered zero evidence of those lies and one million people are facing starvation and the spread of preventable diseases. Per Jewish Voice for Peace: Today, one-third of children under the age of two in Gaza’s north are suffering from acute malnutrition, more than double the number from a month ago. 

PLEASE take two minutes to email your Representative and two Senators, asking them to pressure the Biden administration to resume funding of UNRWA. That link contains a letter template you can personalize. I know we’ve already emailed them with this same demand, but we cannot stop pressuring them to do the right thing until they actually do the right thing.

As way of thanks, here’s another gooseful photo:

Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge. March 12, 2024

Solidarity!

Sunday Confessional: crane overwhelm

/ Tracy Abell / 16 Comments

As I posted last Wednesday, we recently had the privilege of witnessing a layover during the migration of Sandhill Cranes. This trip was fifteen years in the making as we’d planned to go to Monte Vista in March of 2009, but had to cancel for health-related reasons. And somehow, we never got our acts together until this year. All this to say, last week’s experience was a very big deal for a variety of reasons, and it didn’t disappoint. In fact, I literally have hundreds of high quality images from the two days we spent watching the cranes. For the last couple days I’ve been trying to rally my decision-making skills so that I can share photos (although not all that time was spent agonizing over photo selection as some hours were spent shoveling the 27 inches of snow we got in the storm that started Wednesday evening and finally ended Friday morning).

Decisions! This is where the overwhelm comes in: how can I possibly choose from all my wonderful photos? How can I convey the whole experience with just a sampling of pics?

Should I begin with the very first photo I took on Monday evening? (click all to enlarge)

Do I include the yoga-pose photo?

Do I share the majesty of cranes flying against the backdrop of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains?

Should I include an image showing how the camera sometimes struggled to focus on the closest crane when SO MANY OTHER CRANES were headed our way?

Or the very first crane dance I had the honor of witnessing? (According to BirdNote, Sandhill Cranes mate for life and they do this dance each spring to reaffirm their bond.)

And I should probably include an image that shows how close all of us were to these magnificent birds, right?

Maybe include an image showing another field we visited right as the sun went down (even though the photo doesn’t convey the sound of THOUSANDS of cranes), where many stood facing west?

Along with a photo showing how the cranes just kept coming?

And what about the next day’s photos–should I begin with this crane running before lift-off?

No doubt I should include this crane ‘s dance that began with a leap, right?

But then which of the other dance moves should I include . . .maybe this?

And which of the many photos I took at the other field when approximately three thousand cranes lifted off as one (leaving behind just three cranes who remained in the field for another hour) should I share?

Unfortunately (or not), I don’t have a photo of me overcome with emotion in this moment, tears running down my face. I can only say that being in the presence of all those cranes in motion/in community was one of the most profound experiences of my life. Minutes later, I stood in the silence they’d left behind, incredibly grateful for the gift of their presence and the peace of that moment, wishing that same kind of peace for everyone around the world.

I have an entire afternoon and evening worth of photos that I haven’t delved into here, but I’ll stop so as to not overwhelm anyone else. No worries, though! I’m absolutely positive I’ll be posting more in the near future. 🙂

Sandhill Cranes

/ Tracy Abell / 11 Comments

We had a glorious time at Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge with the thousands of Sandhill Cranes. This is just a tiny taste of what we experienced and one of the final photos I took yesterday evening. These four cranes were coming in for a landing at a popular feeding spot in the barley field.

March 12, 2024

I don’t know what it was about that corner but during each of the three feeding times we witnessed, cranes showed up at that spot which is within 50 feet of where people are allowed to stand. There’d be just a few to start and then others, like the four above, would drop in to join them. Zippy joked about the cranes having an agreement to take turns posing for the humans. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful for their presence. More photos to come!

Sunday Confessional: on feeling powerless

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

I haven’t been here much lately because reality feels so very hard. Don’t think anyone would argue with that sentiment, but I do know that many would argue against giving up. And they’re right. Despite the fact that these are incredibly dark days in which we’re facing multiple crises funded and enabled by the powerful elite–people who live insulated lives and truly do not care what the rest of us think and want–that doesn’t mean we can drop out of the struggle. There’s so much to fight for–people and planet.

So, today I’m dipping back in on a small scale. Here is a wee mouse that was hanging out below one of our bird feeders.

January 16, 2024

It was brutally cold that day and this little mouse was out doing what needed doing in order to survive. They weren’t giving up without a fight.

I won’t, either.

Snowy aftermath

/ Tracy Abell / 13 Comments

Yesterday my plan to spend the day doing revisions was upended by a snowstorm that began at about 10:00 in the morning and continued for twelve hours. By the time it ended, we’d received at least 17 inches of snow (it was HEAVY so there was compression). This was the view out the kitchen window right after sunrise this morning.

And here’s the patio where we’d sat just days earlier when the temperatures were in the 50s.

Yesterday’s shoveling was an exercise in futility as the snow fell faster than we could clear it. The neighbors and I never had more than a minute or two of feeling a sense of accomplishment before the pavement was covered again and we had to start all over.

A neighbor from farther up the hill made a crucial error when driving up our street on his way home: he stopped to allow a struggling vehicle to get past on the barely plowed street and then was unable to get going again. His vehicle slid to the gutter and my immediate neighbors and I spent a long time trying to dig them out, but the road got too slick beneath the tires and there was no traction. He ended up abandoning the vehicle overnight.

Despite waking up a bit stiff and tired from all the shoveling, I couldn’t resist the lure of the open space. Late this morning, I gathered my snowshoes and poles, and walked up to the trailhead. After strapping on the snowshoes, I veered off the path where others had already walked, thinking I wanted my own adventure. Um, no. The deep snow made each step a major chore and I knew I’d be exhausted within minutes. I instead followed others’ footprints, huffing and puffing as I gained elevation beneath the blue-blue-blue sky. I did my best to ignore the nasty brown cloud hovering above Denver and the surrounding area. Instead, I smiled at the yucca spines sticking up from the snow, marveled at the really deep drifts, and listened to chickadees and juncos. There were deer tracks and ski tracks, and I saw one person carrying a snowboard. Up on the ridgeline, a group of younger people were sledding down the hill.

On the way down, I chose to take advantage of gravity and break trail rather than follow the established trail. Plumes of snow rose and fell with each step, making me feel strong and powerful.

And after getting home and eating some delicious avocado toast, I finally got to work on revisions. Yay!

Twofer Tuesday: feathered friends

/ Tracy Abell / 8 Comments

Birds are keeping me going during these dark days. Even more than usual, I’m intentionally watching and listening for them with the knowledge that such interactions ground me and bring a moment of peace. And joy.

Today as Zippy, Emma, and I took a slow walk in the neighborhood, we heard a loud call. A hawk was perched in a tree above the street. I quickly pulled up my Merlin app in hopes it would help me identify whether it was a Cooper’s Hawk or Sharp-shinned Hawk. Unfortunately, the hawk went silent. But we were gifted with an up-close sighting as the raptor flew directly above our heads (and no, I couldn’t tell whether the tail feathers were rounded or flat) and then circled back around before landing in another tree. A gift to us.

Here’s another bird that brought me joy recently. A White-breasted Nuthatch exploring the tree trunk outside my window. I was thrilled to get a decent photo because these guys are always on the move.

January 13, 2024

And here’s a familiar face: male House Finch, of which we see many every single day. But every sighting brings a smile.

January 13, 2024

Once again, birds for the win.

Climate Movement Monday: protect mature trees

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

Welcome back to Movement Mondays in which we discuss all things climate. Today I’m returning to an issue I highlighted in March of 2023 when I asked for personalized letters in support of old-growth forests. There’s good news: on December 19, 2023, the Biden administration put out a press release First-of-its Kind National Forest Plan Amendment to Conserve and Steward Old Growth Forests, stating that “the U.S. Department of Agriculture announced a proposal to amend all 128 forest land management plans to conserve and steward old-growth forest conditions on national forests and grasslands nationwide.”

That’s a very good start. But we need to keep applying pressure to also protect mature trees and forests. Per Earthjustice: The proposed plan could protect old-growth trees in national forests from most logging. But the Forest Service also needs to issue strong protections for mature trees, which are our future old-growth forests and exist in much greater numbers than old-growth.

Photo by Zetong Li

Protecting mature trees and forests on federal lands should be a no-brainer as we face climate collapse. Big, old trees do so much for us. They store carbon! They provide habitat for wildlife! They help clean the air and water! They stabilize soil during floods! Also? Big, old trees are beautiful and balm for our stressed-out souls.   

Earthjustice has provided a letter template for us to get our comments to the Forest Service. Remember, we don’t have to write a whole lot of words and the most effective letter is one that shows why the issue matters to us. I know there are many tree-loving readers here. 🙂 Please, take a moment in support of mature trees and forests!

Solidarity! ✊🏽

Ending the year on a positive note

/ Tracy Abell / 8 Comments

I deliberately went in search of natural inspiration and rejuvenation this afternoon as I wanted to end the year on a positive note. And during that time watching and listening to the birds and other wildlife around my home, the grief and anxiety fell away. I was at peace. Here’s a sampling of what I witnessed:

Scrub Jay

American Robin

White-crowned Sparrow (immature)

House Finch

Disgruntled Bunny (and yes, that’s a great name for a band!)

Dark-eyed Junco (and no, that’s not their mess)

House Finch

Goldfinch

Squirrel!

And lastly, Emma Jean-Jean, keeping an eye on things as I photographed yard visitors

I also saw Northern Flickers, a woodpecker, a Red-breasted Nuthatch, Black-capped Chickadee, Mourning Doves, and magpies. It was a bird buffet!

But that’s not all I did to soothe my soul. I also hoop-danced for 10 minutes today which brought my hoop-dancing total for the year to exactly 28 hours! In 2021, I hooped for 24 hours and in 2022 I hooped for just over 27 hours. So, this year is my new record. Woot woot!

Happy New Year to all! May the coming year bring more justice and peace around the globe.

Nature’s refuge

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

I’m in the final stretch of revisions before sending the middle-grade manuscript back to my agent so the book can go on submission in the new year. The work feels both like a blessing and a curse. I’m grateful to be able to focus on something besides the horrific reality of our government’s complicity in the genocide in Gaza, but also sometimes feel selfish for escaping reality. Deep inside, I know that’s silly, and not only because the story I’m revising focuses on righting societal wrongs.

I also realize it’s silly to begrudge myself my creative outlet because we all need a refuge, whether it’s via the art we create or connection to the natural world.

July 20, 2023

In that spirit, I’m offering this Painted Lady on a sunflower. I photographed this in July and gazing upon their interconnectedness replenished my spirit as soon as I found it in my files. Maybe this image will do the same for you.

Forest tableau

/ Tracy Abell

From the moment I woke this morning, a heavy fog has hung in the air. We never saw the sun, not even a glimpse. The entire day has been cold, damp, gray. Utterly dreary. So I went in search of an image to remind myself it’s not always a monochromatic world.

Here’s a still life from our hike in Pike National Forest. I remember being charmed by the bursts of color that day and today the vibrant foliage warms my heart even more.

October 3, 2023

And to quote Raveena Tandon: Anywhere which is in a forest, that’s my zen place.

Nothing but birds

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

These photos were all taken after our first snowstorm on October 29th. We saw lots of different species that day and here’s a sampling of who came to visit the feeders and bath.

Black-billed Magpie

Dark-eyed Junco

House Finch

Northern Flicker

Mourning Dove

And one last Dark-eyed Junco, because how could I resist this delightfully round bird?
Wishing everyone a bird-rich day.

These dark days of autumn

/ Tracy Abell

My sorrow, when she’s here with me,
thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be;
she loves the bare, the withered tree;
she walks the sodden pasture lane.
 ~ Robert Frost

Park View Trail, Trinidad State Park 10.10.23