A little bird told me

May 15, 2019. Cave Creek Canyon, Chiricauhua Mountains.

. . . I should stop looking at and thinking about the world at large. At least for a bit.

So today I offer this Painted Redstart which is a species of warbler we saw while visiting Cave Creek Canyon in May of 2019. Such a cheery little bird.

Twofer Tuesday: Grackle edition

Grand Island, NE. June 2, 2020

These are hard days and I’m trying to find joy wherever I can. This photo lifts my spirits not only because I love the composition, but also the memory of taking it. I sat outside my little KOA cabin last June, watching the birds and bunnies moving about, and was completely engrossed in my surroundings. I remember the joy I felt aiming my camera at all that activity. So much life on display.

It’s a beautiful planet.

Thankful Thursday: memories edition

We’re still in lock-down mode here in Colorado as the wildfires continue to burn. Air quality is poor (although a bit better after a tiny rain episode yesterday) and I’m staying inside. Instead of walking Emma this morning, I opted for a hoop-dance session in the living room.

Horse Gulch Trail, Durango, CO. July 31, 2019

And rather than going on an actual hike, I’m reliving one from July of 2019 when Zippy, Emma, and I visited elder-son Wildebeest. I remember that hike. It was quite hot that day, but still very nice to be out and about in nature.

I’m looking forward to the day we can do it again.

Feathered mystery

Grand Island, NE. June 2, 2020.

This is an Eurasian Collared-Dove.

The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery. ~ Anais Nin

Where’s the head? Are those wing or tail feathers? Did a tornado just blow through?

Free Bird

Common Grackle. Grand Island, NE. June 2, 2020.

Birds are the most accomplished aeronauts the world has ever seen. They fly high and low, at great speed, and very slowly. And always with extraordinary precision and control.  ~  David Attenborough

Desert Treasure

Portal, Arizona. May 15, 2019.

So extraordinary is Nature with her choicest treasures, spending plant beauty as she spends sunshine, pouring it forth into land and sea, garden and desert.  ~John Muir

Twofer Tuesday: Barn Swallow edition

I stayed in a KOA cabin in Grand Island, Nebraska, earlier this month. The cabin was cute and cozy, but the highlight was the Barn Swallow presence.

June 4, 2020

June 4, 2020

They’d built a nest on the beam above the front porch and were very active. I was so focused on photographing this pair I didn’t realize I was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes. I shudder to think how many bites I would’ve gotten if those swallows weren’t there to catch and eat mosquitoes on the wing. I’m definitely on #TeamSwallow when it comes to biting insects.

 

Bunny Monday

Spotted this rabbit in Nebraska. The attitude feels a bit different than Colorado bunnies. Anyone else picking up on a General Woundwort vibe?

Grand Island, NE. June 2, 2020.

(Full disclosure: During my time in Nebraska, I saw very few people wearing masks and sensed hostility toward me and my mask-wearing ways. Which is to say, this bunny was probably chill and a total Bigwig, and I’m just projecting.)

Thankful Thursday: hoopla edition

This morning I woke planning to run on the trails. Then I looked out the window and saw tree branches bouncing in the wind. Instead, I opted to hoop inside.

Hooping with my niece D in Ohio. August 15, 2019.

I haven’t hoop-danced in quite a while. I’ve attempted it a few times over the past months, but couldn’t summon enough oomph. This whole pandemic situation and the blatant desertion of working people by the political elite of both parties is exhausting. And infuriating, rage-inducing, horrific, etc. And did I mention exhausting? No dancing for this one.

Until this morning. People, I hoop-danced for 25 minutes and pretty much grinned the whole time!

Take that, you soulless ghouls. I refuse to be broken.

Exuberance

Three years ago today, I arrived in Amsterdam. I was jetlagged and foggy in the head, but still remember the lift I got from the mounds of tulips blooming in a nearby park.

Amsterdam. April 28, 2017.

Such exuberant flowers, unruly in their passionate display. We should all live so boldly.

Enter this wild wood

Chiricauhua Mountains. May 14, 2019.

Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen
Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares,
To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood
And view the haunts of Nature . . . .
~ William Cullen Bryant

(Note: After posting this, I realized it all felt very familiar. Probably because I’d posted the same words very recently.)

It’s a reach, I know

‘Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming,
and look brighter when we come.     
  ~ Lord Byron

Columbus, OH. August 23, 2019.

I’m quite sure the gleam in this chipmunk’s eye had less to do with me than bird seed on the ground. Still, that bright eye can’t be denied.