neighbors

Thankful Thursday: the common

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

Life feels difficult the last few days–personally, professionally, and globally–and now more than ever, I’m grateful for nature’s gifts. Today I’ve taken solace in the presence of many magpies (my next door neighbor just confirmed her dog–again— spread kibble in their backyard) as they fly to-and-fro, pause to snack on Rainbow’s offerings, and bathe in my bird bath.

Magpies are common around here yet they never fail to lift my spirits. Equally common are the bright, cheery sunflowers smiling in my yard and throughout the neighborhood. These, too, always bring a smile. And when that sunflower sighting includes a Common Checkered-Skipper?

Backyard. August 12, 2024

Well, then my gratitude knows no bounds. Even when I gaze upon the image nearly a month later, it’s like bottled Balm for the Soul.

Poppies for Palestine

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

As I walked past my neighbor’s poppies today, my thoughts went to Gaza because the poppy is the national flower of Palestine.

June 10, 2024

I’m grateful for these poppies, glorious and resilient in the face of our frequent heavy winds, since mine tend to live very short lives. Every year, they’re here and then gone. But despite my poppy experience, poppies are seen as a symbol of resilience:

The poppy symbolizes the resilience and enduring spirit of the Palestinian people. This designation stems from the flower’s pervasive presence in the region and its poignant representation in various cultural and historical contexts.

The red of the poppy symbolises the blood of the martyrs within this land. The colors of the poppy also mirror the colors of the Palestinian flag with red, black, white and green.

The poppy’s vibrant red petals are often seen as a metaphor for the bloodshed and sacrifices endured in the ongoing struggle for freedom and self-determination. Its ability to thrive in adverse conditions mirrors the steadfastness and hope of the Palestinian people amidst their challenging circumstances. The choice of the poppy as a national symbol is a powerful testament to the collective memory, cultural identity, and the unyielding quest for peace and sovereignty in Palestine.

Today I post these poppies in solidarity with the people of Gaza. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

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.

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!

Our shared humanity

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

When I was a child and learned about the Holocaust, I couldn’t stop wondering how something so depraved and abominable was allowed to happen. Why didn’t people stop the Nazis?! Unfortunately, I now have a much better understanding of that apathy due to the past three months of Israel committing depraved and abominable acts against the Palestinians. A genocide is happening before our eyes as people shop after-Christmas sales and draft their New Year’s resolutions. I’ll exercise more! I’ll quit smoking! I’ll finally get organized! As bombs rain from the skies and Palestinians are literally being rounded up and held in a mass detention camp in a Gaza stadium, we’re unironically exchanging Peace on Earth messages.

How did we get here? One huge piece is that the Covid-19 pandemic laid the groundwork for our current indifference. Despite the deaths of millions and long-term disabling of millions more, life has “returned to normal.” Parents were told it was completely fine for their children to be infected over and over and over again in schools as the infections do untold damage to their immune systems. Society was instructed that it was okay for old people to die because, well, they were old. Same for the immunocompromised and disabled. Survival of the fittest, amirite? We were fed the message that only the weak and vulnerable were at risk, so we should resume our normal lives, namely working/producing and buying/consuming. Our “leaders” were wildly successful in getting us to avert our gaze from the ongoing mass death/disabling event that is Covid-19 (and to make that super-easy and convenient, the world’s governments have mostly stopped tracking infections and deaths!) Aside from Zippy, I do not know anyone else in real life (as opposed to people I engage with on social media) who masks. Despite the fact that the virus continues to mutate and become more contagious. Despite the fact that we’ve already seen how this movie ended during the AIDS crisis. Despite the fact that HIV is transmissible via direct contact with bodily fluids, but we’re now facing an unchecked virus that is airborne. Know what the government tells people to do to avoid HIV/AIDS? Don’t share needles and wear a condom. What’s our government’s main message for avoiding Covid infection? Wash your hands. EDITED TO ADD: I meant to also include climate change in here as another example of how they’ve  normalized mass death and destruction.

So, it’s not a huge surprise that many, many people here in the U.S. are also averting their gaze from the slaughter of Palestinians. They’d rather not think about it. They’ve been groomed to not think about such things. We were taught to think only of ourselves (rugged individualism!) and to believe nothing bad will ever come for us, personally. We’re immune to death and illness, prejudice and racism. We will never, ever be “othered.” We are the exceptional people who live in the United States of America, the greatest democracy on earth! Meanwhile, this so-called democracy is behaving in a very undemocratic fashion as it bullies the United Nations and –against the will of the majority of voters–supplies money, bombs, white phosphorous, and unconditional support to the genocidal, right-wing Israeli government that’s been very upfront about its intentions to displace, injure, kill, starve, etc. as many Palestinians as possible so that it may once and for all take ALL the land for Israel.

It’s overwhelmingly grim. But we aren’t powerless.

Please, keep making noise. Phone calls, emails, rallies, vigils, signage. Refuse to look away. Talk to your family and friends about what’s happening. When a neighbor yells, “How you doing?” let them know this U.S.-sponsored genocide weighs heavy on your heart. Pay attention to what’s happening in Gaza and allow yourself to grieve. Cry. Rage. Dance. Laugh. Sing. Go out into nature and absorb the wonder and beauty. Be fully present in this moment and remember our shared humanity. Extend kindness to yourself and strangers.

We’re at this point because we’ve become disconnected from each other and our surroundings. Our survival depends upon us reconnecting and remembering that we are all threads in the same fabric. We are one.

UPDATE: Just as I got ready to post this, the doorbell rang. It was a man from up the street who stopped by to introduce himself. He said his family is Muslim and that they very much appreciate the CEASEFIRE NOW sign in our front yard. He gave us a beautiful box of cookies and accepted my offer to make them a sign for their yard. The entire exchange brought tears to my eyes and deepened my resolve to forge connections.

Thankful Thursday: documented poppy

/ Tracy Abell

I photographed the neighbors’ glorious poppy on June 8 which is good because even if it had bloomed this long, it would be no-more.

Last night we had heavy hail that shredded leaves and plants around the neighborhood and today we had another round of very heavy rain** and more hail. While I do appreciate the moisture (my perspective is “as long as we’re soggy, we won’t start on fire”), there’s such a thing as moderation. We’re clearly experiencing extreme weather all around the globe, but I won’t go into the depressing realities of the climate crisis.

Instead, today I give thanks that I took the time to document this gorgeous flower so that it could be enjoyed forever. May it bring you a smile!

** 1.5 – 2.5″ of rain in 1-2 hours in our neighborhood

PSA: We’re all in this together

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

A friend is struggling mightily right now, and she’s not alone in her feeling of overwhelm and hopelessness. Every one of us is dealing with personal stuff on top of the societal and planetary crises. I want to note this here and now, as a reminder for the next time someone cuts me off in traffic or doesn’t return a wave or any number of completely trivial things that might wind me up.

Everyone is dealing with way too much these days. But we’re all in this together and we are all we’ve got.

So, it’s good to extend a little grace whenever we can. 🌻

Never have I ever: orchid edition

/ Tracy Abell / 11 Comments

Our neighbors gifted us yesterday with these beautiful orchids and a note of condolence about my mother-in-law‘s death last month. Such a lovely and thoughtful gesture.

September 18, 2022

I can’t stop gazing at these flowers’ intricate beauty. I am a bit nervous, however, because I’ve never had an orchid before and know absolutely nothing about their care and maintenance. I’ll be consulting the google for help but if anyone out there has tips, I would welcome them. And if you know what type of orchid this is, I’d also love that information.

Miraculous Magpie

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

This afternoon I’d just started a post about a White-breasted Nuthatch that visited our feeder when I heard a cacophony at the other end of the house. The magpies were back! (Here are some photos I’d taken earlier.)

     

Anyway, I hurried to the window overlooking the patio and saw two magpies in the bird bath and a line of magpies on top of the fence, all making a ruckus. I grinned and called for Zippy to come see the fun. And then I noticed something else.

A magpie on its back. Unmoving on the patio.

Rather than having fun, they were mourning their flock member. Zippy and I were in anguish, debating how long to leave the bird there so they could have their “funeral,” when after another minute or so of their raucous cries, the downed magpie began moving its beak. They’d called it back to life!

As some flew down next to it, the magpie got up. My movement at the window startled the rest into flying into the neighbor’s pine tree. The injured bird moved into the shade of a big pot where it sat panting for about thirty minutes. I watched with binoculars through the window and took photos. In fact, I took a ton of photos over the next couple hours but because they were taken at an angle through a not-clean window , they’re not very good.

Here’s one of the earlier photos after it’d moved from the shade of a big pot to pant here in the vinca and sedum.

The bird slowly began moving west on the patio. First underneath the loveseat where it was joined by another magpie that appeared to hunt for insects and offer them to the dazed bird which rebuffed it.  Then a long pause as the injured bird was out of sight behind the huge herb pot where I hoped it could drink from the bee bath. And then the magpie came back into view again.

It went through the wire (that’s supposed to keep Emma from destroying the flowers in the raised bed HAHAHA) and across to the timber in back.

And then it went out of sight again for a looong time. Zippy kept watch while I took a fast bathroom break and then I continued watching and waiting. I needed to know the bird was okay. Well, after a while I couldn’t take it anymore and very quietly stepped outside.

There I found a motionless magpie with its backend in my yard and the front end in the neighbor’s.

Distraught, I went back in the house. But I needed to know: what was going on? So out I went again.

This time, the head was up and the magpie was panting again. Probably because I’d stressed it out! I moved away and it went completely under the fence. A moment later, it hopped up and over a short wall.

That’s the last I saw of the magpie. I texted my neighbor to give her a heads-up and she put her dog inside then searched the yard. The only thing she found was a large, dead rat. (As she said: Ew.)

Here’s hoping those healthy, agile hops transitioned into healthy, flapping wings that carried the beautiful magpie back to the sky.

Magic is welcome here

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

Poppy’s world is a magical place, and it’s the most free part of the entire universe.
 ~ Poppy

June 19, 2022

Confession: I didn’t know there was a singer-songwriter-YouTube-personality named Poppy, but when I went in search of a poppy-related quotation and happened upon their above quote, found myself in complete agreement.

A poppy is most definitely a magical place. How else to explain these other-wordly images of my neighbors’ front yard poppy-crop?

Gratitude to these trippy flowers for helping me find joy and wonder during these very difficult days. Magic is always welcome here.

Oh, happy day

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

I won’t be forced to commit a crime against the new neighbors who let their Hummer idle for a minimum of ten minutes every weekday morning!

Day lilies exploding like fireworks. July 3, 2020

Their kids just came over to sell us chocolate for a school fundraiser and in the ensuring conversation with their dad, we learned they’re only renting that house for two months. Hooray!

I can handle two months of roaring, rumbling, exhaust-spewing activity across the street. I think. And if not, I will initiate a conversation. That conversation may or may not be well-received, but it’s not gonna be a forever kind of relationship, so . . . oh well.

Right now I’m just celebrating the fact I won’t always live across the street from people who believe it makes sense to drive their kids to school in a gas-guzzling assault vehicle. Oh, happy day.

On death

/ Tracy Abell / 18 Comments

I just learned that a neighbor died. Alone. In their home. I don’t know any details beyond that. In trying to process all this, I went in search of a quotation that might speak to me and help make sense of the situation. This, from Kurt Vonnegut, caught my eye: There is love enough in this world for everybody, if people will just look. That sentiment felt applicable because of how the neighbor had alienated others to the extent that no one could pinpoint for the police when the neighbor had last been seen. In my mind, the aloneness had been needlessly self-inflicted over the years, destroying relationships that had once thrived. Then I happened upon this quotation from Orson Welles: We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone. Who was I to pity the neighbor when every one of us will make that final trip alone? Our neighbor was fiercely independent and very proud of that fact.

I recently read Smoke Gets In Your Eyes & Other Lessons from the Crematory which was quite helpful, not only because it put death in perspective, but also for leading me to human composting. For years, I’d been telling Zippy that when I die I wanted him to toss my body in the forest so that the crows and whatever else could feast on my remains. He patiently and repeatedly pointed out how he’d probably get in serious trouble for disposing of his wife’s body in the woods. But now I have a plan that’s legal and suits my wishes. It’s incredibly freeing to know that when I die, my body will not only return to the soil but also enrich the earth. I hope my neighbor experienced a similar peace by having a death plan in place. I also hope their death was swift and painless, and that they maintained their sense of indomitability to the very end. When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home. ~ Tecumseh

This flower from my garden is a stand-in for the photos I took years ago of my neighbor’s iris. They were out of state that spring and sad to miss their garden in bloom, so I documented the display and sent it along. Remembering that connection eases some of today’s shock.

May 13, 2020

Death forces us to think more about life and how we’re spending our finite time here. Zippy and I are grateful to have our sons visiting now and we’ve shared even more hugs than usual today. If you’ve read this far, thank you for sharing in these musings with me. I’m grateful for our connection.

#Caturday gift

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

Tomorrow is our neighbor’s birthday and because B is the kind soul who cares for Loki and Marcel when we’re out camping, I wanted a photo of them for a card. It’s tough getting good photos of a black and a white cat (at the same time) because Loki tends to fade into the shadows. After several unsuccessful photo shoots of them napping on the bed and lounging in their box-condo, I asked Zippy to hold them.

October 9, 2021

It was a full minute of squirming, shedding, feline shenanigans, but I was able to capture this shot. I’m especially pleased Marcel’s looking directly at the camera because B has high hopes that one of these times when she’s cat-sitting, she’ll finally get Marcel to happy-drool. He’s been holding out on her.

Our dear neighbor takes her cat whisperer duties very seriously.

Need good thoughts

/ Tracy Abell / 24 Comments

Right now, Zippy’s driving an hour to the Greenwood Wildlife Rehabilitation Center with an injured magpie. It’s the closest facility that can hopefully help this poor bird that got caught in a neighbor’s mouse glue trap. (I didn’t even know those horrible things existed.) Zippy was out in our backyard when he heard a whole lot of magpies making noise on the other side of the fence. They were gathered around the stuck bird.

Zippy put on gloves to rescue the injured bird. When he put it in a shoebox, the glove was stuck to the magpie. Zippy got glue on his arm and unsuccessfully tried getting it off before leaving. He thinks he’ll need to use gasoline later.

August 15, 2020

Please, if you can spare some good thoughts, send them to the poor magpie. May its feathers be cleansed so that it soars again.

UPDATE: Sad news. They were unable to help the magpie because there was too much glue. They would have had to remove many, many feathers which would mean it couldn’t be released back into the wild. They were, however able to put that beautiful bird out of its misery.

Sunday Confessional: all birded out

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

I’ve about had all the bird drama I can stand for a while. There’s a scrub jay nest in our across-the-street neighbor’s pine tree and when Zippy and I returned from our run on Friday, we heard a cacophony in that yard. A fluffy white and gray cat (often seen roaming the neighborhood) was being dive-bombed by screeching scrub jays. Why? The cat had a fledgling in its mouth. I screamed and ran at the cat who dropped the baby bird and ran away. While Zippy stood guard over the stunned bird, I ran across the street to our house and looked up the closest bird rescue site. “Temporarily closed.”

I did a little more research and determined it would be okay to put on gloves to pick up the bird. So that’s what Zippy did and then placed the baby in a shoebox lined with an old t-shirt. We couldn’t spot the nest so he stuck the box up in the tree, wedged between branches, as the parents watched.

Adult Western/Woodhouse’s Scrub Jay, probably one of the parental units.   June 13, 2021

A while later, the cat returned and this time I kept following it. It crossed the street, nervously checking over its shoulder, again and again, to see if the angry woman had given up. When another neighbor told me where the cat lived, I went to that house. No answer. Throughout the day, Zippy and I checked out our windows to see if the cat had returned. We didn’t see it again.

Yesterday (Saturday) morning, just as Wildebeest and I returned from walking Emma, there was another raucous uproar in the neighbor’s yard. This time, the fluffy white cat sat calmly (no bird in mouth) as the parent jays dive-bombed it. Again, I ran  at the cat and chased it away. After another no-answer when I rang the cat’s home doorbell, I went home and wrote a very civil note, explaining the situation and asking that the cat be kept inside.

We haven’t seen the cat at all today. I did, however, see the fledgling on the ground presumably after testing its wings again. It seemed fine. Fast forward six hours. As I sat reading, I heard yelling and yelping. I ran outside and heard the next-door neighbor say “baby bird.”

This time, the unfortunate little fledgling had the bad luck to end up in Rainbow‘s yard.

Rainbow frolicking on December 18, 2021

The good news is that when Rainbow’s human yelled for her to drop the bird, Rainbow listened.** Zippy again donned the gloves, caught the baby who was much more feisty this time, set it in another box I’d prepared, and wedged it in the tree as the parents watched.

I’ve never wanted to be able to fly (possibly related to my fear of heights), but I’m wishing very, very hard for that little scrub jay to soar overhead. The sooner the better.

** Especially good news in light of the fact our neighbor believes she inadvertently adopted a “serial killer” when she adopted Rainbow. Recent victims include a chicken and a prairie dog.

Mopping up

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

This afternoon I finally did something I’ve been meaning to do for months: I mopped our family room/kitchen/dining room floor. I put on Led Zeppelin–loud–and got to work. The music energized me and I kinda, sorta had fun, which made me think of former neighbors (mother and teen daughter) who used to put on Neil Diamond to get pumped up for cleaning. I always thought that was so funny.  I mean, “I Am . . . I Said”?! “Song Sung Blue”?! I’ll take “When the Levee Breaks” any cleaning day. Or non-cleaning day, for that matter.

Image by Eszter Hornyai from Pixabay

So, what’s the deal with this dog? Well, I went to Pixabay in search of a “mop” image and this popped up. Not sure how this adorable face is related to mopping, but I couldn’t resist. Maybe this pug knew I was about to make unkind remarks about Neil Diamond and my neighbors’ musical tastes, something that should be off-limits. After all, I’m a writer hoping to get my fiction published and I know all too well that taste is subjective.

I only hope Mops the Pug can forgive me.

Signs of hope

/ Tracy Abell

I took this photo on April 1, 2020, but the image feels appropriate for today. This afternoon I had a productive phone conversation with an elected official about pending legislation that would greatly reduce jail populations in Colorado. I’m feeling hopeful.

Bulbs planted by neighbor who now lives in Hawaii and undoubtedly remembers exactly what this is.

And what’s more hopeful than brave flowers pushing through the soil, year after year?

Happy Halloween!

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Marcel rehearsing his scary face. January 25, 2020.

Boo!

People in the neighborhood are being creative with their candy offerings. One house has a long tube running from an upstairs window to the driveway. I think the trick or treaters are supposed to shout in the tube to make candy come down. Another house has a catapult. We’re setting out candy on a table in the driveway which isn’t nearly as creative, but it’s still a fine chocolate-delivery system.

Listen up: bird & dog tale

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

August 22, 2020

Over the past several years, my partner has bemoaned the scarcity of magpies in our yard. We’d see them throughout the neighborhood, but they weren’t spending much time in our yard anymore. We missed their raucous energy.

Then one day last month (which just happened to be our wedding anniversary), we noticed a whole bunch of magpies in our neighbors’ backyard, their trees, and on the fence between us. We’d hit the magpie jackpot! But why?

Rainbow peering through the fence at magpies frolicking in our bird bath. August 15, 2020

 

Well, according to our neighbor, when he came home that day to find his yard filled with magpies, he was equally puzzled. Then he went to feed his dog and couldn’t find the nearly-full bag of chow, which was also a puzzle. So he stepped out in the yard and pieced together the sequence of events. His doggo had dragged the bag of food into the yard, scattering the kibble everywhere. The smart corvids had quickly found the treasure.

They also immediately found our bath and took turns tidying up.

August 15, 2020

And as a sign of their appreciation for the use of our facilities, they began leaving gifts for us on the deck rail and tucked away on the steps.
       

The best news is they’re still hanging around and we’re treated to magpie sightings every day.

Four Black-billed Magpies. August 15, 2020

We salute you, Rainbow Dash. Pure genius.