On Being a Bad Birdwatcher

I glanced out the window this morning and saw a bird high up on the wire.
It was partially blocked by the bare branches of a red maple and power
lines, feathers fluffed against the cold wind.

Kestrel, I thought.
I grabbed the binoculars and, sure enough, it was an American Kestrel.

American Kestrel 006
© Tracy Abell 2012

I smiled and thought about Simon Barnes who wrote one of my absolute
favorite books HOW TO BE A (BAD) BIRDWATCHER.**

Simon Barnes wrote about jizz*** (I know, such an unfortunate term), defining it as               “the art of seeing a bird badly and still knowing what it is.” The more you watch birds,      the more information you internalize, and as Mr. Barnes points out, “Familiarity        enables you to process scanty information and interpret it in a meaningful way.”

When I see a bird in flight, one moving in a bouncy up-and-down pattern,
I know it’s a finch.  If I catch a glimpse of a bird on the ground, scratching in the
leaves, I identify it as a spotted towhee. If a bird flaps past me, trailing long tail
feathers, I recognize it as a magpie.

This makes me happy. Because no matter what else is going on in my life —
parenting worries, frustrating quest for publication, search for part-time
employment, etc. — I am a bad birdwatcher and I’ve got jizz.
It’s a life-long condition and no one can take it away from me.

** From the opening chapter: “…[that’s] what being a bad birdwatcher is
all about. It is just the habit of looking. Born-againers talk about bringing
Jesus into Your Life; this book is an invitation to bring birds into your life.
To the greater glory of life.”

*** Apparently, it’s inadvisable to search Google for the etymology for jizz
so I’m content to accept the one theory suggesting it’s a contraction of just is.
As in: “How do you know the lower bird in the photo below is a northern flicker?”
“Just is.”  

American Kestrel 002
© Tracy Abell 2012

In Which Tracy Turns Fifty

Last week I turned 50 years old.

50 skeeball LJ 11.28.12
(image from morguefile.com matthew_hull)

Even when the birthday isn’t a major psychological milestone,
it’s hard for me to feel celebratory in late November
when the days are short and the gloom seems to stretch on forever.
Which is why I planned ahead and made arrangements for our family
to fly to San Diego and stay in a condo on the beach in Oceanside.

I really, really wanted solid family-bonding time because our
last few tumultuous years yielded less-than-heartwarming vacations.
This family time would be different, dammit!

And it was.

Wildebeest and I took morning walks on the beach,
talking and laughing.
Zebu and I shared a nighttime stroll,
watching the silhouettes of shorebirds
in the lights of the distant pier.

There was football, Frisbee, and boogie-boarding.
Sunshine,
surfers,
and sanderlings (my favorite busy-busy shorebird).

I saw dolphins just beyond the line of surfers, gracefully cutting through the water,
and Zebu got to see his first sunsets over the Pacific; he took this photo from our balcony:
Sunset in Oceanside

I shot pool for the first time in years and regaled my sons with tales of
my many years playing in bars and pool halls. My performance was
streaky, but I made enough good shots that Zebu commented it was
obvious I used to play a lot. (Score one for Mom!)

Months ago when I made arrangements, my plan was to
celebrate my birthday by running on the beach for 50 minutes,
and run I did (along with Zippy). My altitude lungs were tickled to
be at sea level, my trail-running feet were grateful for the mostly
flat beach, and my bird-loving heart was thrilled by the constant
presence of gulls, pelicans, crows, willets, and curlews. I smiled
and waved and called out greetings to my feathered friends as I ran.
We went 5.69 miles in those 50 minutes, the final mile our fastest.

Then we soaked in a hot tub.

Now we’re back home in Colorado dealing with our real lives, the
skin-shriveling dry air, and a lack of happy-inducing negative ions.
However, I’ve got a mental scrapbook filled with wonderful memories and a
healthy start on how I’ll define life after fifty.

Plus this lovely souvenir from our family vacation in Oceanside, California.

Oceanside rock in hand 005

Vote Against Romney or Vote My Conscience?

Several years ago I decided I would not, could not vote for Obama again.
Not because I believe Obama is a Kenyan-born Muslim Socialist who was
once The Most Liberal Senator Ever; there are boatloads of facts refuting each of these
claims and I wish people would either do the research or shut the hell up.
Really, it’s disheartening to share citizenship with so many people who
grasp at faux issues rather than recognize that our two-party system is offering us
two candidates who operate right-of-center and are both bent on creating an oligarchy.
The differences between Obama and Romney** are mostly a matter of degrees (see the Foreign Policy debate for their Israel love-fest, Iran hate-fest, and who-would-use-more-predator-drones-to-kill-more-Muslims-fest).

Here’s a partial, reality-based list of reasons for my anger at Obama:
climate change inaction
predator drone murders
assassination of US citizens without due process
the Tuesday morning kill list
war on whistleblowers
“Grand Bargain” to destroy Medicare, Medicaid, and Social Security
income inequality
Wall Street profits
blocked investigation/prosecution of torture
record number of immigrant deportations
Not to mention, the oft-cited truth that while Republicans fear their base,
Democrats hate their base.

There are many other reasons, some less quantifiable than others.
For instance, Obama’s betrayal of young people’s hope and involvement
after he rode in on an overwhelming mandate and then squandered the
opportunity for positive action, thereby creating mass disillusionment.

Also, the fawning Democratic establishment that thinks as long as it’s
a so-called Democrat in the White House, all actions are justifiable (even
those actions that caused outrage when committed by a Republican president).

And a related item: as a result of that Democratic denial, a lack of an opposition party
which means Obama reacts to extremists and continues to move the discussion/policies
to the right with few in power willing to call him out on this, much less put up roadblocks.

So.
After living through what is essentially Bush’s third term, my thinking was I’d be a hypocrite
if I voted for Obama after raging against the Bush administration’s policies for eight years.
I would definitely vote for either Justice Party candidate Rocky Anderson or Green Party
candidate Jill Stein.

Then I read Daniel Ellsberg’s piece on why angry progressives in swing states should vote
against Romney/Ryan by voting for Obama. I have huge respect for Ellsberg
as a whistleblower and an anti-war activist, and his words carry tremendous weight
with me. If this nation’s most famous whistleblower believed it was in the country’s
best interest to reelect the president who has prosecuted more whistleblowers
than all previous presidents combined, I needed to think hard about my vote.
After much thought, I decided I’d vote “for” Obama.

020
(Coco doesn’t care about the election, but I thought she’d provide a fun break in the text.)

That decision only lasted several days. Because then I read Matt Stoller’s piece
making the progressive case against Obama, and I remembered all over why
I didn’t want to cast a vote in Obama’s favor. I would vote Anderson or Stein.

But then I read Dan Froomkin’s article about the betrayal of progressive activists working on a multitude of issues. These are people who devote their lives to activism and who were shut down by the Obama administration, yet some of them believe it’s still best to reelect Obama rather than Romney. If they could swallow their disappointment and keep fighting Obama on those issues, maybe I could, too. After all, the LGBT community put the pressure on him and he finally came out in support of gay marriage (a HUGE step and one for which I give Obama absolute credit.)

Tomorrow is election day and I still don’t know how I’ll vote.

I have never been more conflicted about a presidential vote in my entire life.
I have always been disappointed in the candidates and have always voted the
“lesser of two evils,” but I don’t know if I can do that again.

But no matter what, I will cast a vote for president.
(And I can only hope if Obama loses Colorado by one vote,
Zebu doesn’t keep his promise to throw a rock at my head).

**While it’s true Romney/Ryan are bat-shit crazy regarding women’s reproductive rights,
the Democrats are always willing to use women’s health issues as a bargaining chip
so I’m not convinced it’s a big enough reason to vote against my conscience on every other issue when the Dems happily enable the erosion of women’s reproductive rights.

Empathizing With the NOs

Today I had to send an email to a man who’d put time, energy, and creativity
into his proposal to landscape our back yard.
I had to tell him “Thanks, but no thanks.”

I spent quite a while composing those several email sentences,
wanting to be kind and to somehow minimize the “blow.”

In doing so I felt a certain empathy with agents and editors;
it must be really difficult to send out so many NOs.

Botanic Gardens 002
© Tracy Abell 2012

Thankful Thursday: Feathered Friends

Every single day                                                                                                                       I am grateful for                                                                                                                    the birds on this planet.

Squirrels + birds peanut feeder 043
© Tracy Abell 2012

Words are a heavy thing,
they weigh you down.
If birds talked,
they couldn’t fly.
~ Northern Exposure (On Your Own, 1992)
                  

Kestrel on a Wire

Kestrel 024
© Tracy Abell 2012

It seems only fitting I would interrupt today’s revisions of BIRD BRAIN
to photograph this American Kestrel hanging out behind my house.

The feeder birds probably weren’t too thrilled when the predator flew into the
neighborhood, but I feel as if this little falcon brought me some good revision karma.

There’s a certain clarity of vision that accompanies hooked beaks.

Feathered Greetings

         

I've been feeling disconnected from the online community.
I haven't been posting much and the longer I stay away,
the harder it is to jump back in.
This morning I was pondering how to get going again when I looked out the window.

Of course.
A Grackle.

Feathered Greetings

I’ve been feeling disconnected from the online community. I haven’t been posting much and the longer I stay away, the harder it is to jump back in. This morning I was pondering how to get going again when I looked out the window.

Of course.
A Grackle.



My Anniversary Gift

Zippy and I went to the Botanic Gardens yesterday evening
and as I came around a hedge, a wonderful seed-pod-like-thing
was blowing along the ground.

Tumbling and bouncing.

I held it for a few moments before setting it free again.

Botanic Gardens 012 CROPPED

Maybe I’ll see its offspring the next time I’m there . . .

It was 20 years ago today

Today marks 20 years of marriage for Zippy and me
and I wanted to share photos of that day on Hatcher Pass in Alaska.

It was an intimate ceremony: Zippy and me, Witnesses Bob and Liz,
Photographer Anne, and Marriage Commissioner Scott.

T and K wedding polaroid
Polaroid shot of preparations in the chilly weather (rain coats necessary).

T and K wedding ceremony
Scott performing the ceremony in his role as Marriage Commissioner.
(He and I were forever-friends, next to each other in our kindergarten class photo).

T and K wedding seed beads
Scott surprised us with a gift of seed beads and additional words of love.

T and K wedding b&w
We were blissfully unaware of the tourists in the background watching and photographing us.

T and K wedding with S and A
Photographer Anne took a break from her camera and joined us for some pics.

It was a wonderful day and I thank our friends again for being there for us,
especially Scott who died of AIDS complications four months later. He traveled
all that way in poor health to perform our ceremony (and despite his threats to
the contrary, did not pronounce us “man and wife,” but “husband and wife.” Thank
you, Scotty!)

T and K wedding kiss

It’s hard to believe so many years have already flown past.
Happy Anniversary, Zippy.
May there always be love.

Cat Scratch Fever

         

mullets, goldfinches, etc 018

Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want.
                                                                           ~
Joseph Wood Krutch

                       

Nature Nurtures

            

It's crazy hot and windy here in Colorado.
Wildfires burning
air quality ever-changing
and frequently poor.

Woke to a smoky house in middle of the night
so shut off swamp cooler and closed windows.

Air was decent on Saturday and Sunday mornings
and I hit the trails early.
Saturday I was treated to coyote sightings – three in all
so stopped to watch them watch me.
I smiled the rest of the run (even on the uphill).

Because I don't run with a camera here's a coyote cousin from somewhere else:
Coyote - Hollingsworth, John and Karen - NCTC
Image by: John and Karen – NCTC

Nature most definitely nurtures my soul.

And on days like today 
when I don't want to pollute my lungs
I stay inside and look out my window.  

Mystery bird 014
© Tracy Abell 2012

What have you seen today?

               

Friday Five: The Catching Up Edition

1)  Zebu turned 16 this week and got his driver’s license.
Knowing him, that’s what he was dreaming about in this old photo:
passport Harlan 001

2)  Zippy is training for the MS 150 Colorado Bike Ride next weekend
and has been going on looong rides in the 90+ degree temperatures plus
commuting to work via bike which means a return ride of 12+ miles uphill.
(It’s a good cause and he’s low on fundraising so if you have a couple bucks
to toss his way he’d be thrilled).

3)  Wildebeest is living with Casa Bonita workmates and enjoying
the freedom of a home so messy he temporarily lost his phone.

4)  I am waiting to hear back from a critique partner on my revisions
before I can finally, finally send them off. In the meanwhile I’m revisiting the project
I set aside several months ago and tweaking the synopsis with a new perspective.

5)  The nest cam is still running at Cornell University and here’s the youngest
hawk looking quizzical on her return visit to the nest the other day:
Hello #3

I’ve been out of the loop here but hope everyone is doing well.
Wishing you all a great weekend!

Not-Quite Wordless Wednesday: The Fledge Edition

Yesterday three Red-tailed Hawks on a UW-Madison campus ledge
contemplating the edge
and their first fledge*
WI hawks over the edge

A few minutes later, two Red-tailed Hawks on ledge
peering over the edge
as they ponder the sibling that just fledged
WI h awk spreading wings

Today, the one remaining hawk on that ledge,
not overly close to the edge
yet most probably contemplating fledge
last WI hawk to fledge original

fledge* (from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology): the time at which nestlings that are reared in the nest leave the nest, even though their flight abilities may not yet be well developed.