Category Archives: Nature

The Siren Mists

We’ve been experiencing very unseasonable weather here in the Midwest.  Last year on this day we were dealing with severe ice storms, power outages and dangerous roads.  Yesterday (and today, most likely) there were joggers in shorts and reports of crocus breaching through the surface of the soil.  The earthy moist smell of Spring has been in the air and it takes a moment to remember this is supposed to be the worst of the winter months.

This morning after the usual runabout in the pre-morning darkness of school buses and shuttling the blessed spouse to work, I came home and began my usual email and internet surf over a cup of coffee.   Glancing out my window I realized a heavy and thick fog had enshrouded our nearby woods.

In seconds I had bolted from my chair, grabbed the camera, the tripod and thrown on my shoes.  I was outside in a blur and had managed to forget my jacket.  This happens to artistic folk, even more so with photographers, who understand the fragile and delicate mix of light, environment and time.

Why are misty woods so magical?  Is it the constriction on the senses?  The softness?  The quiet?  Sitting quietly in gray woods it is not hard to feel connected to something, to feel a gentle peace swirl around you.  It can be a time of mysterious, magical peace.

It is said that when mists are thick it is a sign nature spirits are about.   Obscured in the gray, they can move more easily, drifting just on the edge of eyesight, gliding on dampened leaves.  I believe such a thing is possible.  I asked the crows who flew by but could not understand their answer.

Mists form pocket domains and much like life, it is difficult to see where you are going.  If you decide to move forward you can see only your next few steps.  In looking back you may know where you have been but you can no longer see it.  Your world is only that which either you move to see or the mist allows you to see.  Perhaps this is the magic of fog and mist?

A physical reminder that we are simply walking in the middle between the past and the future.

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“Pernicious neither to corn, fruit tree, nor cattle..”.

A few weeks ago a friend of mine clued me into a news story coming out of Georgia; Vultures Invade Neighborhood.  I recommend you give it a read.  The link takes you to a story on Huffington Post.  The long and short of it being that 500+ vultures decided to plop down to roost in Lee County, Georgia and it’s appears to have irritated their human neighbors.  I always find it interesting how upset humans get when animals interrupt their life and activity.  At times you would think a pack of velociraptors had arrived from the way people act or maybe skesis from the Dark Crystal were real and had suddenly decided to organize.

My friend clued me into this story because I had waxed poetical to him a week earlier how the ancient Greeks, Romans and Egyptians took great stock in the appearance of a vulture.  It had caused me to reevaluate my idea of the creature.  It all started in one of my classes last fall when I was curious as to why vultures were such a big deal to such people as, oh, Romulus and the founding of Rome.

Romulus and Remus, brothers in contention for the first seat of Rome, both saw vultures and took it as a positive sign.  I was immediately confused by this.  Why vultures?  It didn’t make sense to me.  If you’re going to tell a legend about the founding of a city of such import in the ancient world as Rome why go with vultures?  Why not eagles or at least a hawk?  I went looking and discovered a large chunk of information and how adoration of the vulture went all the way back to Egypt, Motherhood and the Goddess Mawt.  The big statement I found was from Plutarch.  He sums it up nicely.

“Hence it is that the Romans, in their divinations from birds, chiefly regard the vulture, though Herodorus Ponticus relates that Hercules was always very joyful when a vulture appeared to him upon any action.  For it is a creature that is least hurtful to any, pernicious neither to corn, fruit tree, nor cattle; it preys only on carrion, and never hurts or kills any living thing; and as for birds, it touches not them, though they are dead, as being it’s own species, whereas eagles, owls, and hawks mangle and kill their own fellow creatures…”

Since finding out about all of this I’ve looked at our local turkey vultures in an entirely different light. No wonder my friend wanted me to know when the vultures of Georgia decided to invade Lee County. It was good timing because, oddly enough, 24 hours later, there was a huge flock of vultures circling over my neighborhood in numbers well into the hundreds.

Watching them I realized they were not focused on one area but moving along the ridge, disappearing for a while behind the treeline and then gliding back and doing the same thing in the other direction. I watched them for close to an hour in groups that varied from ten to fifty. As occasional individuals would dip a wing, drop onto a tree branch, ruffle its feathers and settle, I realized they were actually roosting for the night. Driving on an errand the next morning I realized the roosting flock was stretched out over close to two miles of irregular residential woods and the occasional field. I estimated them to be in the several hundreds if not thousands.

I happened to notice a large number of big black clumps in the tops of trees near our neighborhood during the morning commute and upon returning home I took camera in hand to see what I could see. Several hundred had gathered on an eastern facing ridge line near a large open field. As the sun rose they were greeting it with wide open wings, warming them from the damp and chilly air. As the morning sun rose higher, they started to go on the move and they only tolerated my presence within about 100 yards.

Weeks later they are still in the area, moving from one ridge to the other, roosting in groups both large and small. More than one morning I’ve stepped out to see a lonely dark silhouette of a single vulture in the dark bare branches. Yesterday, they were focused on the woods right outside my back porch. What has caused them to suddenly make an appearance in an area they are not normally seen in and in such large numbers? Is it a sign of the apocalypse?

No. What it happens to be is the simple fact there has been numerous land clearings over the past year on our side of town. Vast acreage that once held meadow and wood have been given over to housing lots and cleared in the sake of progress. Most likely, a winter time roost was flattened and our new visitors opted to come into the edge of town while looking for a new roost spot. We really won’t know for sure until next year about this time. Perhaps they are just on the move from one spot to another. They seem to like it here. Actually, they seem to REALLY like it here as yesterday my family was treated to something none of us had ever seen before; turkey vultures mating in the trees behind our apartment.

I’m actually glad to see them hanging out in our neighborhood right now and respect them for who and what they are in our ecosystem. They quietly take care of the business few other creatures care to handle. All over the world, in nearly every culture, they are part of the direct connection in the circuit between death and new life. They are symbolic of resourcefulness, renewal and they facilitate the turning of the Wheel.  Once we get over our Western cartoon stereotypes we can begin to see how important and amazing these creatures are in the grand scheme of design.

Summertime Haiku

I crafted these over the past few days as I was out in the heatwave, packing, moving and doing some grounds keeping.

Merciless heat,
treetops the only movement.
Grey clouds boil above.

Stifling Summer wind,
brown leaves skitterdance past.
The cicadas sing.

On The Simple Haiku

Yes, you saw haiku at the end of that last post.

I’ve danced around haiku for the majority of my life.  During my walk a few mornings ago, the desire to write a haiku was nearly unstoppable.  It came from a pressing desire to distill the essence of the moment so I might remember it and share it.  To me, haiku are verbal photographs capturing a snapshot of the moment.  Much like photography, if done well, you are able to share that moment with others and they “get it.”

After writing those haiku, I found myself at the local library with my daughter.  She headed to the manga section and I decided to pick up a few books by and about one of the classic masters, Basho.  I checked out a copy of “The Master Haiku Poet Matsuo Basho” by Makota Ueda.  It covers his life, his style and the different phases of his haiku writings.  I’m not even halfway through it and I’m even more fascinated with the art form and the man than before.

One particular phrase from the book spoke to me.

“Basho’s solution was based on the principle of “lightness,” a dialectic transcendence of sabi.  Sabi urges man to detach himself from worldly involvements; “lightness” makes it possible for him, after attaining that detachment, to return to the mundane world.  Man lives amid the mire as a spiritual bystander.  He does not escape the grievances of living; standing apart, he just smiles them away.”

I also found this wonderful article on “Sabi, Nature and Relationship.”

Since that morning, I’ve taken to using them as a tool to slow down, a meditative puzzle on how to see the world around me and place it into words.  They place me in a receptive and pleasant state of mind which is what I am going for after all, right?   I also see them as a journal, a way to mark the passing of my day by the interactions with nature I have experienced.

To that end I also checked out Basho’s “Narrow Road to a Far Province” which is a prose/poetry diary of his five month trip in the seventeenth century.  That’s up next as soon as I’ve completed the one I am currently enjoying.  I might even be a rebel and read them both at the same time.

And, yes, you’ll be seeing quite a bit more haiku on here.

I can guarantee you they will be nowhere near the quality of Basho’s.  At least not for the next ten or twenty years anyway.

Morning Bluetime Walk

I tumbled out of sleep a quarter after four in the morning due to stress.  It was the usual things you would expect for an unemployed father; finances, self-worth, simple and typical night time gremlins.  No matter how simple those imps they always work their skill at stealing sleep.

To add to the anxiety, we’ve been ramping up for a full move to another apartment in the same neighborhood by the end of the month.  It is a good move as we’re moving closer to the nearby woods and away from the constant sound of traffic from the all-to-near city street turned into major thoroughfare.  Even though a good move, it still brings it’s share of chaotic influence.  All food for the early morning gremlins.

When I wake like this I often turn to the internet or a computer game to calm me along with a glass of milk.  It’s a tried and true fix.  It’s usually a nice distraction, a silent hour staring at the screen, trying to shovel the dirt of the conscious over my subconscious dragons.  It’s a fine remedy most times.  However, this time, there was a restlessness hovering on me.  Even after finishing a modest snack of a breakfast, it persisted and coaxed me with a need to have fresh air and to be outside.  Barefoot,  I walked out my front door and into the early morning night.

The blast furnace heat from the previous day had subsided and it was pleasant outside.  The light of a waning half moon shone in the southern sky and a temperate evening breeze tussled the branches of the trees.  It was more than pleasant.  It was fantastic.  Not content to stay near the house, I took a longer walk around our neighborhood and the pond at it’s center, enjoying the feel of my bare feet on concrete, grass, dirt and pathway mulch.  Out here, in the air, under starlight, there was a connection in those quiet, dark hours and I floated with it.

There is a wondrous purity in these hours no matter the season or phase of the moon.  It’s one of my favorite times of the day and I wondered to myself as I stood in the middle of our parking lot gazing upwards at the stars, why don’t I do this more often?  Why do I opt instead to stare at a screen?  Because that’s the easy way out of it?  How little effort was involved in just stepping out my door!  I know it to be the better answer but somehow always do an excellent job of forgetting it.

Cold rice before dawn.
The summer bluetime stillness.
Half moon crowns a pine.

Dawn eased forward and birds began to call to one another.  I believe it was a cardinal that started things off.  People began to stir around me.  I sat on the steps outside our apartment and continued to enjoy the last remaining minutes before the day, and the heat, began.  I had passed through something,  a quietly hanging gossamer curtain, and once on the other side, life was calm, centered.  As I was about to move and stand to go inside, Universe offered me one final gift before I moved on with my day.

Warm summer morning.
From the tall pond weeds, a doe
and her two children.

Caught up

Made it just under the gun so I was REALLY only just one day behind.   Whew!

Photo for June 4th

A bit behind.  Big weekend full of graduation fun for my oldest.  Of course, the weather decided to play along and give us muggy, damp 90 degree weather for our outside party.

One friend found an excellent way to beat the heat.


Playground Bluebird

Caught this fine fellow as he was teaching one of his fledglings to fly this morning.  The two of them were only in the open for a brief moment.


Dinosaurs in the Street

I was strolling over to retrieve my daughter for dinner from a neighbor’s house.  A classic move on her part, forgetting we told her to be home in a half hour.  I think I saw it in my peripheral vision first,  something pegging my monkey brain there was something amiss and telling me it was in the middle of the road.  I thought at first someone had dropped their purse or maybe a curved piece of bark from firewood.  Then it moved and I realized it definitely was not a purse.

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Two Day, Two Pics

Doing fine so far!