Textures

Back in early August, Tammy and I took a couple of walks near the Cuyahoga River (Cleveland area) and found ourselves thoroughly enjoying the experience.  Of course, the camera came out and many images were captures because...  well, it's a digital camera and you can do that.  And, the walk was about relaxing and immersing ourselves in the natural world.  I sometimes find that I can enhance that experience by taking the time to view things differently and then seeing how it turns out through a lens.

 

I also saw capturing the images as an investment.  It was an investment in my own sense of awe and wonder.  

You see, I knew the walk itself was going to have some time constraints on it.  I wasn't going to be able to meander on these trails all day long for days on end.  But, also, the light and the wind and the feel of the world around us changes constantly.  There were some beautiful moments I wanted to savor a bit longer - so I tried to grab the ghost of that moment in a picture.

Sometimes, the image was for future exploration. What kind of mushroom was that?

Sometimes, the image was to remind me of an observation I had about the forest floor.  It was early to mid-August and look at all of the leaf litter on the ground.  Last year's leaves (and probably some of this year's) were providing cover for the soil.  The forest canopy was so dense that there was very little in the way of understory plants - and yet nature still provided a blanket of organic matter.

I've often had a fascination with dew drops as well, so it makes sense that I might try to chase them wherever they might form.

They softened the look of trees that might seem, if you don't look too hard, to be quite prickly and uninviting.  But the dew droplets cling to them happily, reluctant to fall away.

Maybe they know something about these trees that we don't?  Perhaps they are better hosts than they let on?

At one point, I followed a stray beam of light that had infiltrated its way through the tree canopy.  I don't think you can say that it sneaked in because sunbeams are quite direct in their intentions.  They either get through or they don't.

This particular sunbeam was lighting up a fallen tree trunk that was smooth, having lost all of its bark.  And what should I see from a distance on that trunk?  A bright red object, beckoning to me.

Needless to say, I had to go look and I had to record that moment.  

It was a little bit like so many movies that use the beam of light to illustrate a promised land or some amazing treasure.  In this case, the treasure was a bright, red leaf - placed there as if it was of great value to the forest itself.

There were also textures that were not of the natural world.  The trails evidenced human intervention and there was evidence of the need to record our presence on a few of the trees near that trail.

I was here!  So was I!  Did you notice?  This is me!

I, of course, refrained from doing the same.  Instead, I recorded the moment in digital form.  And, I wondered about this need to mark our territory and our inability to see how our cumulative efforts to carve a niche can wear a bigger hole than we ever intended.

Of course, I took time to look up.  I don't know when I started this practice, but it's a new habit of mine to stop at several points during a walk just to see what the world looks like above me.

If you do any hiking on uneven trails, I am sure you understand that looking down is part of the program - if only to avoid meeting said ground a bit more forcefully than you want with more parts of your body than you need.  And, of course, looking ahead is just a human's default given the orientation of our head and our body.  Looking side to side is fairly simply as well.

But, looking up?  That takes some thought and some effort.

And it can be very rewarding.

The intersection of the bones of the Earth with living green things always fascinate me.  As a person who has cultivated plants in the good soil for a long time, I can't help but exude a bit of wonder at how lichen and moss do what they do.

My sense of cultivating growing things tells me that the ground here is not the kind that supports green and growing life.  Yet, here it is.  

And then, there is the sculpture that comes from the interaction of soil, water and plant life.  Trees and bushes also were finding their way despite not having feet... or even inches... of top soil to get their starts in life.  

How wonderful.  

It doesn't take much, but there is life.  And I was given the chance to observe and appreciate that life.  And now I can appreciate that moment once again by viewing, considering - and writing about - the images I have.

There was a strong chance that these pictures would remain covered in a virtual pile of rock slabs.  Newer images piled on top of older images on the disk drive of my computer.

This is how things work when you live in the present.  The most recent things reside closest to our minds, so that's what we see when we cast about for things to say or do.  But, we need to remember that the things that lie on top are not always those that reside closest to our hearts.  Sometimes, we have to dig through the pile to find those things.

And when we do, we add texture to our lives and to the present.  And we provide depth to the past.

Shorter Break (Than Intended)

One misunderstanding many people have when it comes to the life of a college professor is that they get "so much time off."  And this may appear to be true if you look at an academic calendar and notice Fall Break, Thanksgiving Break, Christmas Break, etc...   There certainly does look like there should be plenty of time off - if you don't take any time to consider what the job requires if you intend to do it well. 

(Most who work at the smaller colleges do!  I won't speak for the larger universities as I have fewer connections there and won't make assumptions.)

In any event, Fall Break for Tammy was this past Thursday and Friday.  Because we have both been running in hyper speed for the past several months, we thought we would schedule a short getaway.  We planned to leave mid-day Thursday for the Lansing, Iowa, area and return Saturday.  We also arranged to see some good friends for part of this trip because (as they say) it's been a while.

Tammy did bring some work along in case a relaxed setting brought inspiration.  Folks, this is how things are during school terms.  The work doesn't stop during breaks - but you might look for a more relaxing place to concentrate and get some of the work done that can't be done when you're doing classes, advising, meetings and all of the day-to-day stuff.

But, we still have things to do at the farm (and the house) too.  So, we tried to push a little on Wednesday evening to get one more thing done.  Some work with the bee hives.

And this is how you get into trouble.  It's nobody's fault.  It's just what happens when you rush things a little bit when you shouldn't.  The net result, is Rob's bee suit didn't get completely closed up around the neck area.  It was getting a little dark and we were in a hurry to finish and it just got missed.  The end result was a series of 6 bee stings on the neck and face.  There was enough swelling going on that we went to Urgent Care the next day and decided we needed to stay home for one of the two planned nights away.

So, we accomplished giving Tammy a break from school work because it was impossible to concentrate on it with all of the bee excitement going on.  And, we took a break from our break because it made no sense to go somewhere when we were trying to be sure we got the swelling down to a safer level.  To be (bee) perfectly clear, the I do not typically react to bee stings all that much.  But, I also don't typically get six at once in the face area.  And, I was never in any serious danger.  It was enough to take the time to deal with it.

In the end, I could make the choice to be miserable (and scary looking) for a longer versus a shorter time.

After the visit to the doc, things calmed down fairly quickly.  So, the next day we did a bit more farm work and then left for a shorter than planned break.  We did get to visit with our friends and we did get to see some beautiful things - even if it felt pretty chilly and it was cloudy and overcast the whole time.

The leaves were still beautiful, but clearly past their peak.  While I didn't manage to capture an image of it, we noticed several places where a stand of trees had no leaves remaining, but they had a carpet of gold at the base of those trees.  We also took the opportunity to go up to the Mount Hosmer Lookout in Lansing.  You can see one viewpoint from that park in the first photo.

In the end, we still managed to do a little bit to balance our spirits with some time appreciating the natural world.  We also allowed ourselves some time to catch up with friends and do a few things that were not task related.

Sometimes, we debate whether it's the best option or not - because the work never goes away and it doesn't get any doner when you ain't a doin' any of it.  On the other hand, what's the point of working so hard if you can't also live your life and be you every so often?  

Good questions all.  And I suspect we'll keep asking them and keep struggling to find the balance, just like everyone else.  This time around, I think we made the right choice to take the time we could and find some peace.

Walk During Peak Fall Color

We had so much to do and travels we had to make on Sunday, so we almost did the "responsible" thing and did not go to Backbone State Park this past Saturday.  After all, we had gone the prior weekend so Tammy could kayak and I could walk.  And, I know Tammy was a little worried about how her body would handle the hike since she hasn't been doing that much hiking of late.  That's what happens when you have limited time to get out in nature and you start using some of that time to be on the water instead of on the trail.

Also, we knew it would be a windy day and there was some discussion that maybe all of the Fall leaves would be removed from the trees by the time we got there.

Happily, we went and not only were the leaves there - I think it is safe to say that they were at their peak.

The sky was that gorgeous blue we sometimes get in an Iowa October.  And, the wind lifted some of the yellow leaves off of the trees and launched them into that blue sky.  I tried to capture what I was seeing with this image and it doesn't really do it justice.  Let me just say that it felt we were in a "snow" globe where we had leaves instead of snow floating around us for much of the walk.

The East Lake Trail provided a fair amount of shelter from the wind, but we were reminded that wind does dislodge walnuts and small branches along with the leaves.  While nothing landed too close to us, I was reminded that it is a good idea to pay attention to your surroundings.  It did nothing to put a damper on the walk and it actually had me looking at things from different angles even more often than I usually do.

And, as you know, that's not a bad idea as far as I am concerned.

Tammy remarked about some of the images I was able to capture on this walk, so I felt like it might be nice to put some of her selections in the blog.  I noticed that she favored photos that featured the water somewhere in the picture, but she also liked it when there was a nice range of color.  Some areas had predominantly yellow leaves, but it wasn't hard to compose pictures on the trail that would show reds, oranges, blues and greens to go with that yellow.

While the colors were better on this walk, I actually took many fewer pictures with the camera.  Part of the reason is obvious, I was not the only person walking this time around.  I had to consider Tammy's pace in addition to my own.  Also, there were many more people walking the trail this time around, which made the opportunities for nature-only photos less frequent.

On the flip, side, I was being a less experimental this time.  Instead, I went for the best natural scenery images I could frame in areas that were most compelling to me or Tammy.  It wasn't all that hard to know when something caught Tammy's attention because it is easier for her to keep moving once she starts walking.  So, if she stopped, there was likely something pretty nice to look at... or maybe she needed a rest.  But she did tend to rest in locations that had lots of nice things to collect images of on this walk.

I know I have mentioned this before, but I am often struck by the pleasant nature of the people we meet on the trail as we walk at Backbone.  Yes, it is true that sometimes there are folks that are a bit loud on the trail for our tastes.  And, yes, sometimes it feels like there are people who aren't truly observing and appreciating the beautiful world around them.  Still, they are almost always respectful of others, of the trail and the natural world around them.

I could detect some the effects of awe and wonder in people's kind greetings as we passed each other.  More than once I noticed a person who had stopped just off the edge of the trail - not just to let us pass - but also so they could just take time to look at something beautiful.  More often than not, we were the ones who stepped aside for others.  And when we did, people seemed to recognize what we were doing and they could appreciate it.

Now that the work week has started, we were both tempted to tell ourselves that maybe we should not have taken the time to go to Backbone and take this hike.  Except we knew that would be a lie.  It was very important that we did take this hike.  It was a fulfilling life event that was necessary for us to balance out the hard work, the stress, and the worry that has been pushing at us almost continuously of late.

This Fall, we can look at each other and instead of saying, "I wish we'd been able to go visit one of our favorite hiking spots during the peak of the Fall color this year," we can say we DID take that walk.  

And, why is that important?

It's important because for most of the years of our lives together we have expressed that regret.  Our lives as academics and farmers usually precludes the pursuit of the changing of the colors of the leaves.  We normally take the "responsible" route and deprive ourselves of some moments of joy because that's just how it has to be.  Or, we substitute a walk with a slightly altered driving route in the car - and we drive by the colors at speeds that are too fast to really get the full effect.

Now, to be perfectly fair, there are only so many days where the weather conditions are as appealing as they were this past Saturday.  Perhaps our regret some years is that there was not much choice for enjoying a quality Fall show.  It's not long ago that we slogged through some very wet September and October months that did not promote much of a show.

So, for this year, at this time, and in that place, we took the time to appreciate the world around us.  And we took in one of the greatest shows on Earth.  The perfect Fall day in Iowa.

Backbone - Walk There Again

The Fall colors are starting to show themselves at Backbone State Park and the two of us made sure to give ourselves an opportunity for front row seats this past weekend.  Well, actually, Tammy had the front row seat and I had the standing room only tickets.

Tammy has taken up kayaking this year.  She's always liked being on/in the water far more than I do and hiking is probably far less fun for her than it once was because of the Achilles and hip bothering her.  I, on the other hand, do like a good walk in the woods.  Admittedly, I prefer walking with Tammy - but this was a good second.  I knew she was enjoying the outdoors in the same area just as I was.  And, I finished my hike at about the same time she finished her float.

Next time, we might arrange it so Tammy can get a short walk as well.

There were clouds for all but a short ten minute period during this parallel walk/float.  Since I was under the tree canopy, Tammy got a bit more view of blue skies and sunshine than I did.  That means she was able to see the color blue, which was in shorter supply where I was.  

But that's ok, because there was plenty of color for me to enjoy and lots to explore.  There were leaves and birds and rocks and trees and...  Well, you get the idea.

The Pileated Woodpeckers (there were at least three of them) were laughing as they swooped from tree to tree.  It was probably funny to see the silly human trudging along on his two feet while they could just spread their wings and cover the territory much more quickly (and more thrillingly, I bet).  A large group of small birds that was mostly Golden-crowned Kinglets and White-throated Sparrows chattered with each other and decided that the human was ok to inspect since he had stopped moving to simply enjoy their presence.  

One Kinglet even decided to come close enough for me to try my hand at capturing an image.  It's golden mohawk can be seen a bit in this picture, though it was much more obvious when I was observing without a lens between me and the bird.

Golden-crowned Kinglet

And, of course, once I put the camera down, a Brown Treecreeper did its thing, creeping up a tree not more than three feet from my face.  When I reached for the camera it dove to another tree that was too far away for me to catch its image.  Creepers walk UP the trunks of trees looking for insects to eat.  Once they decide a tree has been inspected, they'll swoop to a lower spot on an adjacent tree and walk up that one.  I've only seen these little birds once before, so this was great fun for me - to have one walk up a tree right in front of my astonished face.

Meanwhile the Chickadees and Nuthatches were calling.  I am sure the Nuthatches were walking DOWN the trees they were on, because that's what they do.  But, oddly enough I didn't see any of these birds.  So, it was a happy "opposite" day.  The bird you usually only hear (the Creeper) was seen and not heard.  The Chickadees and Nuthatches were heard and not seen.  

Of course, when I see those birds I usually hear them too.  So, maybe it wasn't really "opposite" day.

I was also told by a rather large flock of Robins and Cedar Waxwings that I was a nuisance, and a Bald Eagle let Tammy know that she might have caused some unhappiness as well with a short, but heartfelt, complaint.  

Apparently, a Bald Eagle's scream is often described as "weak sounding."  In fact, movies often dub in the scream of a Red-tailed Hawk in the place of an eagle's scream.  However, Bald Eagles apparently can create a very complex set of sounds.  The video below can be found at the link I have provided here and is on the Raptor Resource Project Site.  Turn up the volume to hear the interesting morning conversation.

I was treated to a brief viewing of a Hermit Thrush and there were numerous other birds that I was able to hear, but not see.  And, as is normally the case, there were plenty of birds that did not feel like they needed to sit still so I could have even a remote chance of figuring out who they were.  I did ask a couple of them to let me look at them a bit more closely, but they typically declined the offer.

Anyway, I think it was a Hermit Thrush.  The Merlin app suggested that it was a Hermit Thrush, rather than a Wood Thrush or Swainson's Thrush (we saw one or the other of these last year at Backbone).  Once again, the bird did not come close enough for a photo and it did not want to sit still while I tried to figure out which one it was.  I think, as far as the birds are concerned, they have NO concern for the names we think we humans feel we must assign to them.  They know who they are and they know who their friends are.  

That's probably good enough.

Solo Flight (Float)

Tammy has been dabbling with the idea of kayaking this year.  Some of the motivation for it might be because walking and hiking are less friendly to her than they once were.  Also, being a child of Minnesota, there were many more opportunities to spend time around water that might be idea for floating around in it.  And, it's always good to keep learning new things.

And yes, water is a good place to experience awe and wonder - both of which encourage you to exercise your gratitude muscles.

Tammy has been on a few trips where others hosted/organized the float so she could get a little support.  Last week, we threw the kayak into the back of the truck in the evening and drove up to Fredrika so she could try a solo float.

Some of you might be wondering why I am not also kayaking at the same time.  I'll answer by simply saying I am not as fond of being in or on water as many people.  I like being near water, that's fine.  So, I meandered around the park area and then found a nice place to sit while she paddled.

Like most rivers in Iowa right now, the Wapsipinicon is pretty low.  There is still enough depth for a kayak.  But, then again, kayaks don't need much water to clear the bottom.  In some ways, it was perfect for someone who is still getting used to the kayak to learn the craft.  The current is easy and the snags and sandbars are quite visible.

The drought conditions have also resulted in fewer mosquitos and other biting insects that can turn a calm evening into a slap fest.  That meant I was able to do things like sit and watch the light work its way into a position where it would reflect off the water.  Or I could watch some birds in a nearby tree.

Or find myself bemused by a leaf floating on the water until rushed down the damn to the pools below.

As the sun started to sink to the horizon, I noticed how some of the trees and bushes around me became silhouettes.  This is where I once again extol the virtues of digital cameras.  They encourage me to just try different things and see what I get.

This time, I focused on the corpse of a tree that looks like it lost some larger branches at one point in time and then added some new growth, but sideways.  Eventually, the tree had no more energy to send out new shoots and we are left with the skeleton of a riverside sentinel.

Soon after considering this tree, I noticed Tammy heading back down the river to the boat ramp.  It was time to assist with reloading the kayak into the truck and head home to do the chores.  It was also time to celebrate a successful solo float.

Well done, my friend!

Walking Ledges Trail

It seems like it was months ago that we took a walk on the Ledges Trail that is part of the Virginia Kendall State Park Historic District, near the Cuyahoga Valley National Park.  In reality, it was only a week ago that I first wrote about walking in the Cuyahoga River Valley and only a few days before that when we were actually there!

As often happens in our lives, I had grand plans that I would contemplate and then write about the things we saw and learned while we were there.  And now, I look at the pictures and I wonder if I can recall enough to write anything!  

The answer is, actually, that I can recall a great deal if only I give myself the time to immerse myself in the photos.  As I look at them I remember my thoughts and feelings at the time I took them.  That, in itself, is a good reason for trotting around in the woods with a camera.

At least it works for me.

The parking area was fairly large and there was a nice shelter next to a very large open area that someone described to us as a lawn.  It was certainly mowed and kept as a public gathering space, that is for certain.  But, the lawn itself was surrounded by woods and interesting sandstone formations.

The trail started as a fairly wide paved walkway and then it transitioned to a wide rock path.  Eventually, it turned into what was just a broad, packed-down path until we got to some of the "ledges" the park was named for.  Then the Ledges Trail finally seemed a lot more like a trail (in my opinion).

We went at a reasonable morning hour before many people had decided to visit the park and before things heated up.  Although, the woodlands canopy was sufficiently dense that I wonder if it ever gets all that hot there.  

It is possible that the thing I liked best about this walk was the filtered light and the silence that seems to come with wooded areas like this.  Even though we could periodically hear vehicles, planes and other hikers, there was a stillness that had a calming effect on my nerves.  Perhaps Tammy did not feel the same, but I am certain we both enjoyed this walk/hike.

Speaking of Tammy, I am very proud of her continued progress as she has now passed the one year mark since she had reconstructive surgery on one of her Achilles tendons.  Walking on uneven surfaces can still a bit difficult, especially now that her hip is getting in on the act.  It turns out if you spend a lot of time favoring one leg that has an Achilles problem, it can beat on the hip on the opposite side.  Alas.

Still, she continue to do her physical therapy and stretches to try and improve her mobility.  It's hard work and I suspect it can impact how enjoyable some of these walks are.  But I am hopeful if I take lots of pictures and write about them, she might get to re-enjoy the walk without the "less fun" parts.

Oh look!  There she is!  Go Tammy go!

One of the issues with Tammy's recovery is that she does move much faster than she did last year at the same point in time.  I've gotten into the habit of stopping ... um... a fair amount, to take pictures and look at things.  It used to be easy to catch back up to her.  Now she has to stop every so often to wait for me to catch up.

I am fortunate that she tolerates my "walk there again" silliness.  I actually do have fun trying to take photos of where we are going and what we are seeing.  Sometimes, she points out areas she thinks could make a good picture.  And, of course, she is usually correct.

There were a few places where the sun broke through.  I am often surprised by how strong it is during the month of August.  As we crossed these locations we were reminded that it was Summer and we should expect to get a bit sweaty as we were actually exerting ourselves.  

Of course, it was nothing like what we are going to experience here in Iowa for the next few days.  But, it was a bit like the next few days are going to be.  A period of discomfort followed by relief.  We were warm for a short while as we crossed the sunny patch, then the trees welcomed us back to their shade and we were reminded to be grateful for their presence.

If there are people out there who don't understand or believe that trees can have a profound impact on the temperature around them, they need to visit a forest as soon as possible!

The camera I use does a very good job with shaded images and a filtered light.  It does a less fine job with very bright conditions.  So, of course, I took lots of pictures knowing I would be able to capture more depth than I can in other situations. 

What I like most about the pictures I am sharing in today's blog is that they actually do a good job of representing to me how the place looked and felt as we walked there.  Sometimes images feel flat, appear brighter or darker than they seemed when we there, or otherwise fail to feel like they are accurate.  At least from my perspective, the colors and textures you see here are also those that reside in my brain as memories.

Hopefully I will find it in me to share the batch of images that celebrate the textures of this part of the world.  Initially I had this idea that I would learn some geology and talk about how some of these rock patterns happened.  I also figured I'd learn a bit more about moss and trees and spiders and all kinds of other things.

And I will.  Because I am always trying to learn more about all sorts of things.

But I don't think I'll wait to share those images until I've done all of that because... well, you know.   Sometimes it's more fun to share your learning as it progresses rather than waiting until you think you've completed the task.  And besides, if you think you're done learning, you're probably wrong.

Walking Near Cuyahoga

The two of us took some time away from the farm - in the middle of Summer.  That, in itself, is quite a feat.  Perhaps I'll take the time to write a little bit about what it took to leave the farm and hope to come back with all of the poultry, cats and plants still alive!  But, that is not today's topic.  Instead, I thought I'd show a few pictures of some of the places we walked while we visited Cleveland for a few days.

But, let me first ask you this - did you know that there is a National Park just south of Cleveland in Ohio?   Well, there is one.  The Cuyahoga Valley National Park celebrates natural areas and regional history.  But, in my mind, I equate this with a comeback for a river system that was once noted for extreme pollution that led to it actually catching on fire not once, but multiple times.

The photo above is Bridal Veil Falls in the Bedford Reservation, which I believe is not formally a part of the park, but is adjacent.  I am afraid I never did quite get a feel for what exactly was included and what was not because Cuyahoga National Park is very much an "urban park" because it is surrounding by urban areas.

We took our time walking the Ledges Trail during one morning of our stay and then had a quick walk to view Bridal Veil Falls during the other.  It was pleasant walking in the shade of a mature forest and feeling the cool moist air amongst the rocks that give this trail its name.  And, of course, the camera came out to play too.

I've got a whole host of interesting pictures that I hope to share with those who might like to learn with me.  The issue will be finding the time to do the viewing, learning and sharing.  

For now I'll just say that we enjoyed our walks.  They weren't "walk there agains," instead they were "walk there for the first time."  We enjoyed it enough that we might, indeed, walk there again.

Thanks for taking a moment to visit the blog.  Have a great day everyone!

Observed.

 

The two of us took the time to "sit there again" a couple of days ago at Sweet Marsh Wildlife Area.  We chose the same location because we wanted to see if the Monarch egg we observed being laid on a particular milkweed plant had become a Monarch caterpillar.  

Sadly, we did not find a caterpillar (or any Monarch caterpiller) as we looked at a number of milkweed plants.  But, we still took the time to let nature come to us by sitting still for a while.

We'll probably offer up a bit more in a future blog, but since it is getting late and I am tired, we'll go with the abbreviated version.  

Take a look at the image above.  Feel free to click on it so you can see a larger version of that image.  There are two critters that we spent some time watching in that photo.  Well, actually, there is a third that might be visible in there too.  Can you find them?

Two of these critters decided not to move the whole time we were there and the third gave a go at trying to catch a dragonfly that hovered just over its head.  The dragonfly did get away and we observed as the dragonfly exhibited an interesting behavior where it dipped itself in to the water two to four times in a row.

I have seen dragonflies dipping their tail into the water, which is apparently how some dragonfly types lay their eggs.  But they usually hover closer to the surface while doing so.  In this case, the dragonfly executed a rapid circular motion that resulted in hitting the water.  The Ojai Valley Land Conservancy website suggests:

On a hot day, dragonflies sometimes adjust their body temperature by skimming over a water surface and briefly touching it, often three times in quick succession. This may also help to avoid desiccation.

 I suppose that is possible.  But, the behavior seemed more like a hunting mechanism to me.  But, I will readily admit that I am not a dragonfly expert, nor do I speak dragonfly - so I wasn't able to ask.

Maybe someone can point me in the right direction?  In the meantime, I'll see if some of the photos I tried to take while it was doing this interesting behavior can be turned into something!

Have a good day everyone.

Sit There Again

 

Tammy and I try to go visit Sweet Marsh fairly regularly just to sit and listen to the birds and watch the water to see what creatures will make themselves known to us.  Yes, I suppose we should go walking too, but these trips often have very different goals than a walk or a hike often has.  

You see, if you sit in one spot calmly, nature will come to you.  If you tread with heavy feet on the path, creatures typically flee or hide.  You will miss the way the dragonfly either trolls for food or protects its small patch of the marsh.  This time I sat on the dock and watched while one particular dragonfly would move slowly over the water (about two feet above it) until it it either encountered another dragonfly or it met some sort of criteria I was not privy to.  Then, it would either zoom around its opponent or it would zip back to a starting point and being the same slow advance all over again.

If you sit in one place long enough you can notice the  moment when the clouds and the sunlight interact in such a way that you can capture the contrast of a lily flower and the lily pads against water that appears to be almost black.  And maybe you can sit there long enough so that the frogs you scared into the water as you walked onto the dock will climb back onto a lily pad so you can converse with them quietly.

This particular Green Frog escaped my notice until much later, when I took some steps on the shore.  It responded with a startled (and startling) chirp and jumped into the water.  This particular frog decided it wanted to keep an eye on me, so it held very still in this area between lily pads and duckweed.  

After Tammy and I had a chance to review the photos I was able to take, she noted the interesting outline of the water near the lily pads in the center.  

Sometimes you see things and they don't register, which is why I do like the opportunity a camera provides for me.  I have an opportunity to "re-see" some things that can help me understand what was there.  It also helps me to see even better the next time around.  

It's a good reminder that our brains do need some training to see, just like it needs training to listen.

We have very much appreciated the Merlin app that is offered by Cornell Labs.  It displays a bird name soon after it records a song that it can identify a match and I have the app set to show the most recent match, even if it has heard a particular bird before in the recording session.

Merlin's accuracy seems to be pretty good because we have been able to verify most birds it claims to have heard, though we can attest that it has tried more than once to match some of the odd sounds our hens make with various water birds.  Not a surprise as we are learning most birds have a range of vocalizations and there can be overlap in tone, song-type and texture of their voices.

An American Robin by the water's edge

Both of us have grown up knowing the sounds of some birds that can commonly be found in towns, such as the American Robin or a House Wren.  But it has been good to train our brains to more readily recognize the songs of the Common Yellowthroat, the Indigo Bunting, and the Warbling Vireo (each of which have become fairly common birds at the Genuine Faux Farm).

We have noticed that the Merlin app can have a hard time hearing anyone else if Mr. Wren is very close as it belts out its song.  The House Sparrows have a similar effect when they get going too.  And Merlin never seems to catch the Ring-necked Pheasants that periodically croak at us on the farm.  (Well, ok, it's caught it once or twice, but our ears do a much better job on that bird than Merlin does).

One bird that didn't take me long to learn was the Song Sparrow.  These little birds often came out to watch us work in the fields at the Genuine Faux Farm - preferring to observe us from a bush or some tall grass stems.  They would scatter if there were any engines, like a tractor or a tiller running.  But if the humans were walking behind a wheel hoe or weeding a row of some crop or another, they would sing sweetly about their day.

Sometimes these birds would be so close that I felt it was important to stop what I was doing and pay full attention.  There were moments when I would quietly tell them I was ready to hear their song and I would ask them politely if they would share.

And often they would.

When that happened, I would be sure to listen fully until the concert was over - the end usually indicated by a flash of wings and the departure of the bird from my vicinity.

The best applause was quietly saying "thank you" and going about my business in hopes that there would be an encore.

Walk There Again - Wapsipinicon River

It shouldn't be a difficult thing for us to do, since we live just a little over a mile away from the Wapsipinicon River, but we don't stop to appreciate it all that often.  Certainly, we do drive by and cross over it fairly frequently as we go from here to there.  And that might be the reason we don't find the motivation to get out and visit it.  Familiarity breeds indifference?

Ok, we certainly are not indifferent about the Wapsi.  But, the relative proximity of the Wapsi makes it too easy to put off the visit for another day because it doesn't require a special trip to get there.  I will point out that Tammy and I have gotten in the habit of visiting Sweet Marsh Wildlife Area for our nature fix and outdoor break from life and the farm.  It is also nearby - so maybe it isn't so much the proximity issue.

It's probably more that we perceive the number of things we need to do to be greater than the time we have to do them.  That constant pressure turns our "yes let's visit" to "not now, but later."

Last week, we actually said "yes" and pulled into an access area not far from our farm.  The odd thing about that is we were on the way back to the farm after visiting the marsh.  I think this was a case where there were so many "heavy" things on our minds that we realized we needed a little bit more healing time.

Or perhaps we just couldn't quite find the gumption to get back to doing things we felt we needed to be doing.  Does it really matter what the reason was?

The access area provided further evidence of the devastation wrought by the Emerald Ash Borer.  Several bare trees that had once offered a greeting to those visiting this particular location stood sentinel, making me wonder if coming here was a good idea if I wanted to move my mind away from world worries.  But then I noticed a woodpecker moving amongst the branches and I was reminded that the dead trees still offered something to the world.

The bird activity in this area was significant and we were able to identify a wide range of bird calls and visually take note of many of them.  We even heard a Prothonotary Warbler that was initially identified by the Merlin app and then confirmed by me a bit later as a flash of yellow crossed the river.

That brought me back to trees.  The trees leaned over the river, providing a canopy to shade the water.  Birds like the warbler would periodically flit from the branches on one side of the Wapsi to the waiting arms of another tree or bush on the other side.  

Sometimes the trees lose their footing and fall into the water

And sometimes, they look at their own reflections.

It can be difficult to contemplate the natural loss of trees as they succumb to pests, diseases or gravity.  I know full-well that this is part of the natural order of things.  Not every tree is a perfect yard specimen.  Not every tree will reach full maturity.  Not every tree succeeds to live hundreds of years.  And some trees lose their grip on a river bank.

I suspect I could accept this natural order if it didn't feel as if humans have done too good of a job making it even more difficult for trees on this earth.

And there I was again, sullying a perfectly good "walk there again" by the Wapsipinicon River with these thoughts about the world's problems.  So, I stopped and took more time observing the dappled sun filtering through the leaves of the tree canopy and the ripples that disturbed the reflections on the water.  Reminding me why it is that I care about trees, birds, rivers and marshes.