New Life

         As Spring is in full bloom, I’m feeling heady and elated.  When God closes a door, somehow he manages to leave one window open.  Sure someone stole my Burr Oak, but my Flame Acanthus is alive!  It was a miracle when I discovered that it had survived winter.  Nature is full of surprises.  The Black-chinned hummingbirds are back in my area.  They are so fun to watch.  It’s difficult for me to imagine their flight to Mexico.  When a bird migrates, it requires 7 to 15 times more energy than usual.  If you think you can run a 4 minute mile nonstop for 80 hours, then you have what it takes to migrate.

     I probably overuse the word migrate.  It’s only because I like it so much.

         After clocking out at work, I will look at my coworkers, “I’m gonna migrate home.”

        Occasionally at Kroger, I’ll encounter a confused shopper. After a lengthy discussion I’ll make a recommendation, “You should really migrate to the salt aisle.”

        On a date, when I describe my history, “Yes, sometimes when I migrate I’m faking it.”

  Migrating aside, I’m loving how green it is.  The rain doesn’t even bother me.  This is the time of year to have a picnic or fly a kite.  I’m very fortunate to have a job that requires me to go outside and smell the honeysuckle or count the ants.  Today an adult wild Turkey came to the backdoor and tried to attack his reflection in the glass.  It was quite a sight to behold.  Turkeys are such odd looking birds.  This is their breeding season, so I’m sure he was out looking for the perfect female.  I wish him luck.

the Great Horned Owl

       Do you remember in the Secret of Nimh when Mrs. Brisby had to visit the great owl?  The owl’s eyes were lit up as if they were on fire.  He appeared on screen, as a massive bone crunching creature.  I was talking to my friend the other day on the phone. 

           “I’m afraid of owls,” she reluctantly admitted.

 Over the course of the discussion, we determined that the repeated watching of the Secret of Nimh as kids had created in us a fear of owls.

As of late, I’ve been hearing a Great Horned Owl in my neighborhood.  His visits seem to be once a week.  Of course, he is probably hunting for rabbits.  I am surrounded by edge habitat which rabbits prefer.  

        I find him to be enchanting.  

  One night, I heard a Northern Mockingbird announce his arrival.  The alarm call sounded sharp, metallic and shattered the silence. I climbed out of bed, put on my house shoes and glasses.  Suddenly, I could hear the owl.  His low pitched ho-ho-hoo-hoo was coming from the building across from me.  It was about 1 am.  The street light made my polar bear Christmas pajamas visible, but luckily there wasn’t a human around.  As I got closer, I saw him.  He was perched on the chimney, which was low enough to make his face and ear tufts visible.  His body was smaller than I remember from the Secret of Nimh.  He watched me.  I reciprocated.  The staring contest lasted for about 5 minutes, then he flew off.  

According to David Sibley’s The Sibley Guide to Bird Life and Behavior, “The acuity of avian eyesight is unparalleled among vertebrates.”  Try saying that sentence three times in quick succession.  It’s difficult.

        I learned over Christmas, to not talk about owls around my nephew. After mentioning the visits from the owl, he refused to go outside at night.  He was afraid.  DOH!

In conclusion, I really like the Great Horned Owl.  I think he is magnificent.

The Burr Oak That Got Away

            I have never been a big plant gal.  Historically, if you gave me a plant and waited a couple of weeks, then you could depend on me killing it.  It wasn’t until October 24th, in 2013 when I finally met a baby plant that I could love.  I was on a tree retreat and we were gazing upon a massive Burr Oak in Benbrook.  I looked down and saw a ginormous acorn roughly the size of a doll’s head.  It was remarkable.  I picked it up and put it in my pocket.  It looked like I was carrying a tennis ball in my pants.  When I got home, I watered it and put it in a pot.  Like an expectant mother, I waited.  On the balcony, I watched it slowly grow inch by inch.  Then one day, it was raining quite a bit so I moved it outside.  I kept it there and would check on it.  I was so proud.

          I really believe that there is something sacred about a plant in a pot, because it takes human hands to get there.  You can infer that someone cares about that plant, which is why I was so shocked when someone stole my Burr Oak.  I came home from work on January 8th, at the beginning of this year and saw it was gone.  I froze.  When I got past the denial stage, then I started screaming.  It felt like someone was pushing a blunt butter knife into my heart.  I still am very angry.  I have decided that I will never love a plant again.

          If I thought that posting signs around the neighborhood would help, I would do it.  Sometimes I daydream about who took him.  Was he a tall adolescent from the inner city that likes to spend hours playing Minecraft?  Was she a short, bossy Girl Scout currently enrolled in middle school who saw my plant and mistakenly decided she could provide him a better home?  I can tell you this.  I will never ever steal someone’s plant because I know how it feels.

Happy Halloween

                One of my grandfather’s favorite sayings is, “I’m gonna do something the Devil never does, leave you.”  Keep that in mind tonight as packs of sugar filled children in various stages of costume dress roam the streets.  It’s Halloween, a time of year when kids amass, hoard, then chow down on candy with the intensity of an Olympic athlete.  When presented with a fortune of candy, a smart child will suddenly become detail oriented like a good accountant.  I know this from personal experience.  My sisters and I were  normally mild mannered Anglo-Saxon Protestants, however, after Halloween, altercations would arise over candy ownership.  We would create a hierarchy or ranking system.  The upper candy class was pretty much anything produced by Mars, Inc. The middle class included any other brand name candy.  The working class included all the anonymous, banal candy.  For example, you could trade two or three working class candies for one upper class candy.  Understanding the hierarchy helped immensely when trading.  My parents tried to break into the market.  In a feeble attempt to decrease our individual candy fortunes, our parents offered to pay a quarter per pound of candy.  We refused to sell.  Duh!!  Happy Halloween.

Migration

              I was driving home last night when I noticed a flock of Canada geese eating grass and sedges from the open field.  The sun was starting to set, but I could still clearly see them.  The unexpected presence of such a large number of geese was truly striking.  The flock consisted of at least twenty five strong adults.  I wondered if the flock plans to migrate next month or if they stay in this area year round.  It’s the end of summer and most birds are getting ready to migrate.  The Black chinned hummingbird that visits my feeder will leave.  The Mississippi Kite that frequently perches in the Oak tree near my parent’s house will depart too.  I like that birds are sentimental.  For example, they will return year after year to nest in a tree they like.  I like that different bird species send out scouts, because it makes them seem organized and methodical.  Recently, I learned more about the migratory routes of birds in North Texas at the Fort Worth Nature Center.   Do you have a favorite bird?  I recommend learning all you can about one particular species, then share the knowledge with as many people as you can.  If you haven’t been to the Fort Worth Nature Center, I recommend that too.  

Full Moon Paddle

           Full Moon paddle is not just a clever name.  It’s also a regular activity at the Fort Worth Nature Center.  I called and reserved a spot a month in advance.  After having booked it, I had at least 30 days to imagine the luminous, opaque, full moon from the vantage point of a canoe.  This was an all inclusive activity.  The nature center provided the paddle, the canoe and the guide.  This was going to be a night tour of the Trinity River which only allowed twelve participants.  I was hoping to see a beaver, an alligator, and no snakes.  When the day finally arrived I was bubbling over with anticipation.  I set out on this short expedition with a friend from work, my BFF and her boyfriend.  After the initial introductions, we all rode to the nature center together.  The bonding process started.  I had not seen my friend for a while so I tried to catch up with her.  

She asked, “Do I look any different?”

I did not detect any obvious change in her appearance so I guessed. “Are you engaged?”

Her bright smile flashed as she nodded her head, “Yes!” She raised her arm so that her hand and ring could be easily admired.

“Wow!”  I said, “Congratulations, that is wonderful news!”

Her ring was a simple band.  When we arrived at the nature center, no one was at the gate.  I did not know where we should go.  Luckily, at that moment, two women in a white Toyota drove past us.  

I pointed and said, “Follow that car.”

Luckily, that car lead us directly to the place we needed to be.  After checking in with our guide, we parked.  Everyone formed a circle and one of the leaders went over the rules, then instructed us on how to use our paddles.  We put on life jackets and made sure they fit.  Grasping in one hand my paddle, I gazed at the canoes.  They were full size.  

Once we got situated inside the canoe, my partner said, “Wow, you are so far away.”  

I sat at the front of the canoe which allowed me the greatest view.  My friend sat at the back.  The temperature was steadily growing cooler.  I debated whether or not to take my jacket but ended up leaving it in the car.  I was wearing a short sleeve shirt and hiking pants.  

Our group of 8 canoes started out heading East.  Our guide had spotted an Osprey and an owl earlier and he wanted to see if they were still there.  As we rounded the corner, I saw the Osprey perched high in an old tree.  His wing span was magnificent.  He lifted off from the dying tree that he had been perched on.  As we turned our canoe around I finally saw the moon.  It was huge.  It beamed and reflected on the smooth surface of the water.  With each passing moment, it was growing darker.  Looking around I felt like the tiny moth attracted to the flame, I was perfectly spellbound by the natural beauty before me.  At the front of our canoes, there was a pole with one tiny light attached to the end.  We looked like floating candles from a distance.  The reeds along the river were at least six feet high.  One of the ladies in our party had expressed an interest in seeing an Alligator.  We stopped at a male beaver’s bachelor pad.  Our guide, Chad, told us the brief history of the 4 year old male beaver that made the den.  Then we paddled down to the family lodge where we learned more about the mated pair of beavers.  They had been together for ten years.  Wow.  As Chad explained the beaver’s life cycle, my eye’s scanned the shore for any sign of movement.  Once we moved downriver, we saw a couple of baby alligators, heard two beavers slap their tail, and we kept upsetting a Great Blue Heron who was trying to fish.  

The water was very shallow at a couple of points and we had to follow our guide in a single file line.  Three times I heard the Great Blue Heron give us a warning.  It sounded ominous and scary.  We paddled vigorously for two hours.  My partner in the canoe kept trying to keep up with our guide.  It took me a while to figure out how to direct the canoe.  All the movements were foreign to me.  Several times we bumped into other canoes because I could not figure out how to steer us to the right or left.  When one of the beavers slapped his tail against the surface of the water, I couldn’t help feeling like an awestruck teenager.  It was so dark.  Looking up, I could see stars.  The light from the moon seemed to grow brighter.  It allowed us to see the stumps that were dotted throughout the river.

We eventually made it back to the dock.  By this time, I was shivering.  It took 30 minutes to unload the canoes.  Soon my engaged friend, her fiance and my friend were back in the car headed home.  I recommend the Full Moon Paddle at the Fort Worth Nature Center to anyone and everyone.

Mobbing

          I was raised by an English teacher, so in my formative years vocabulary was a big deal.  Frequently I would hear Mom say, “Do you have a better word for that?”  Conversely, if I said, “During lunch, my conversation with Becky seemed aimless and trite.”  My mom would immediately cheer, “Good word!!”  

        Yesterday it was mid morning when I was driving through Hurst and witnessed one of my new vocabulary words in action.  My heart jumped with excitement.  The word is mobbing.  It is when a group of smaller birds gang up on a bird of prey.  They taunt and tease him until he leaves the area.  In the sky, the bird of prey looked like a White-tailed Hawk.  A group of at least eleven American Crow’s were charging, dive bombing him.  I have never been a huge fan of Crows, but in this moment I was completely enthralled.  Like Ice Cube, these small opportunistic birds were Steady Mobbin’.  It all happened quickly.  I was parked at the intersection waiting for the light to turn green when I saw them chase the unwelcome predatory bird away.

I thought of my mom and called to tell her about this teachable moment.  It’s true that I’m a city dweller, but I always enjoy being reminded of the natural world.  Whether it’s seeing a hummingbird, or a rabbit, regardless of the specifics, it makes me happy.

Spring Action

        According to an old Chinese Proverb, “A bird does not sing because it has an answer.  It sings because it has a song.” It was a sunny morning in North Texas when I took my Chihuahua out for a walk.  As we crossed the grassy knoll, we had gone about fifty paces when I noticed about twenty Mallard ducks walking in single file.  They left the safety of the pond to look for food.  Meanwhile, a single Canade goose did not follow them.  He merely waited beside the pond, looking like a security guard on duty.  Sure enough, when a Red-tailed hawk flew close by the Canada goose let out a series of harsh honking calls.  As I observed all this, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to his mate.  Canada geese are typically monogamous, but there are exceptions.  Is she dead?  How did she die?  These questions swirled around in my head as I moved from the grass to the pavement and back to my front door.  The Mallards finished their morning foraging session and returned to the pond for a swim.  Every time I walk out my front door I see something different.  

Happy Birthday Ansel

           Today was Ansel Adams birthday.  He passed away in 1984, right about the time that I gave up studying the piano and began studying boys.  As Walt Disney was faithful to a mouse named Mickey, Ansel was deeply committed to his craft.  If you never loved nature or mountains before, you could look at his photographs then fall hard and fast.  I admire Ansel for never needing a “focus friend.”  Whereas I sit down to write, then see a squirrel, then start chasing the squirrel.  Ansel wasn’t like that.  He spent 20 years churning out an amazing body of work.  Happy Birthday Ansel!  Unlike others, I did not need your pictures to love mountains.  However, I do appreciate and admire you.

Animals Surviving Winter

Happy New Year!  

Most of the country was hit by the polar vortex, an arctic airmass.  Temperatures dropped.  What do animals do when temperatures get that low?  During day two of icemaggedon, I saw a collection of House sparrows looking for food.  My bird bath was completely frozen, so I slapped a suet bird cake on top.  It did not take long for the hungry members of the species Passer domesticus to find it and start eating.  Passer domesticus is the Latin name for House sparrow.  A gang of Starlings huddled in a nearby tree where they frequently pumped their wings in order to puff up their feathers, which I imagine is something they do to warm themselves.  In nature, greater body mass equals more insulation.  In a few days, I will fly to Wisconsin where the temperatures are even colder.  I have not met the birds up there, but I already respect them simply for surviving.  I can recall in years past, when the Texas heat became unbearable telling friends or strangers, “If I were a pigeon, I’d be dead right now.”  The underlying message was I can’t survive in a tough environment. Some animals go underground.  The subnivean zone is a collection of open spaces and tunnels between the snow and the ground.  It’s created when the ground melts the ice directly on top of it.  The snow acts as insulation which helps the smaller animals survive.  Some animals sleep through the tough times: bears, bees, snakes, woodchucks, hedgehogs, chipmunks, bats, raccoons, and skunks etc.  MAD, migrate-adapt-or-die, is the saying that I used to teach my fifth grade students when we were talking about nature’s survival strategies.  I am hoping to see some evidence of life in the snow while visiting Wisconsin.   

Messner, Kate. Over and Under the Snow. San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 2011.

Seja, Ledan.  “List of Animals that Hibernate.” 17 Jan. 2014. Demand Media. AOL Inc. http://animals.pawnation.com/list-animals-hibernate-3236.html

The Big Tree Tour

In the beginning, I pulled into what looked like a tree farm.  I parked my Toyota close to the main building, and quickly started unloading my sleeping bag and suitcase.  A tall dark-haired man named Courtney greeted me and showed me to the van.  This hunter green van could safely carry up to 11 people.  I introduced myself to the other tree lovers.  We made a quick stop at Starbucks.  Gene asked for a tall bold, and Courtney, our leader and driver, was confused.  “A tall bole?”  

Three of us yelled, “A tall B-O-L-D!”  

      Finally, Courtney the forester, got it.  

With coffee in hand, we rode to Benbrook to see a Memorial Bur oak.  After we parked, we walked to the spot.  Approaching this tree, I felt very small.  I found an acorn, and put it in my pocket.  The Bur oak acorn was about the size of a doll’s head.  I have never been one to pay much attention to trees, but this specimen was impressive.  The image would have been nice engraved on a coin, or tattooed onto some inmates calf muscle.  Instead, I enjoyed it in person, without whipping out my iphone to document it.  After a bathroom break, we piled into the van and set out for Granbury.  Granbury is a cozy town, especially when viewed from a climate controlled van.  I chatted with Sandy, my newfound BFF.  We stopped for chocolate, because according-to-proper-tree-tour-etiquette-you-eat-dessert-first.  Once we were all buzzing off our chocolate high, we disembarked to see the Texas Live Oak.  It was a Kodak moment for sure.  Conversation halted as we examined the tree.  In Paluxy, we yielded to the right-of-way of some escarpment Live Oaks.  Driving through Johnson City, we noted almost every place of business was named after LBJ.  The world’s largest Vitex tree was guarded by a malnourished coonhound dog.  When we approached, the coonhound barked and his tail was tucked completely under his legs.  It was sad to see.  I wanted to give him a treat and tell him that I’ve had bad experiences with people too.  In Comanche, we stopped for lunch.  We dined in a cafe that did not accept credit cards.  It’s weird being in a cash only business.  I kept thinking, are we in America?  What-in-the-ham-sandwich is going on!  Unfortunately, all the other tree lovers on this trip probably thought I had an eating disorder because I didn’t order food.  I told them that my food was in the van.  Once we left, I crawled into the van and pulled out the tortillas and string cheese in my backpack.  I inhaled the food like I was a starving refugee in Somalia.  The Fleming Live Oak tree had an epic story including a boy, some wild Native Americans, and a town trying to survive.  Now that I had eaten a tortilla, my view of the tree was much more optimistic and upbeat.  Our first day concluded in Fredericksburg.  We saw a Smoke Tree and a Deodar Cedar.  At the hotel, I forgot my luggage in the lobby, but luckily Courtney was the guardian who watched over my belongings until I finally came to my senses.  We went to dinner at a traditional German restaurant called Friedhelm’s Bavarian Inn.  Sandy and I split a plate of Sauerbraten Art.   Our waiter had dark hair and the pale face of someone who spends countless hours indoors playing World of Warcraft. Gene gave the waiter a hard time for forgetting Sandy’s lemons.  The waiter responded by bringing the lemons, looking at Gene, “Here Mr. Grumpy Pants.”  

We all laughed.  It was amusing to see this spirited exchange while all of us consumed a massive amount of food.  When we exited the restaurant, we hobbled to the van. It starkly contrasted with our fast walk upon entering the restaurant. We moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to upset our food babies.  

        On Saturday, we left by 9:45 am.  We stopped at Starbucks, my home away from home.  We were driving through the Texas hill country.  In Leakey, we saw a grove of Baldcypress trees that would have made the Orcs in Middle Earth look like ants.  In Rio Frio, we climbed on a Large Live Oak.  I imagined Gandalf would have scratched his head, bewildered by our actions.  In the van, things heated up.  Conversation went from deadly Oak Wilt to silly aerial sketch mapping to LBJ’s shaved ice and then back to Mr. Grumpy Pants.  We didn’t see any igneous rocks, but gosh darn it, we talked about them.  Words like contumacious and bilaterally frequently could be heard coming from our fragmented-one-size-fits-all-conversations.  We met a forester from San Antonio.  He talked about digging down to get the real dbh, which of course made me laugh.  DBH is tree talk for measuring the diameter at breast height.  We went to the Burditt Ranch to see a Baldcypress tree.  In the shade of that gentle giant, I saw several monarch butterflies feeding on flowers.  There was also a hog trap that I decided to climb into.  Looking back, I wouldn’t do that again, but at the time, climbing into the trap seemed logical and breezy.  We stopped for the night in Concan at Criders Cabins.  The current state champion tree was there.  It was a Baldcypress.  The owner of the property stopped by to ask how we liked the cabins.  She mentioned the Axis deer that roam the land. 

“The call of the deer sounds like a grown woman screaming.” She proceeded to demonstrate the sound.

As I drifted to sleep that night, I could hear the deer calling to one another.  Once asleep, I dreamed of deer and trees.  

The next day, we left by 10:00 am.  The van ride home was mostly quiet.  Once Sandy and I saw a hawk fly by.  

“What kind of hawk is that?”

Casually, I shrugged and said, “I think that was LBJ’s hawk.”  

We all laughed.  Gene said, “Hey, you’re awake.”

I learned many things on this big tree tour.  First, foresters are nice people. Next, take cash on a tree tour.  Finally, trees can get really big.

After Dark in the Park

           It was the 13th of October, on the last night of the After Dark In The Park event at The River Legacy Living Science Center.  My marshmallow pulled into the designated parking area early.  The sky was full of clouds and they were about to dump their moisture.  Rain fell steadily on my front windshield as I waited for the shuttle.  I was glad that I had brought my raincoat and umbrella.  After thirty minutes I arrived at the center and checked in.  My voluntary assignment was to be a roaming captain.  The gates opened at 5 pm.  With 45 minutes to kill, I walked directly over to the face painting area.  I sat down next to a teenage artist with long hair the color of wheat. Half of her face was painted like a pumpkin, it was quite spectacular. 

          I whispered, “Please make me a butterfly.”  

        After about twenty minutes, I got up to leave.  Her design framed my eyes, which made them stand out. I drifted to my first location. When I arrived, the supervisor gave me minimal instruction then she left to have her break.  Parents and kids were everywhere.  It ended up being a cool clear night.  Little white lights ran the perimeter of the pathway.  The soft light they emitted increased the visibility of the forest floor.  All around you could hear Katy Perry’s song “Roar” play as children took turns doing karaoke.  I went to games, the pumpkin patch, crafts, the bounce house, and face painting. If you did not make it out this year, I highly recommend attending next year.

Master Naturalist

        Like a sponge, I am soaking up my Naturalist training and loving it.  So far, I have learned about forest ecology, aquatic systems, amphibians, and mammals.  There are twenty four others who are taking the training with me.  It’s quite a diverse group of people.  My class features an Englishman with crooked teeth, a shy nurse who bakes pies, a retired editor, a sassy plant guy, a woman who works at a nursing home and likes to eat Subway, one storytelling soul sista, a Starbucks addict (me), a librarian, a woman who loves possums and works in economic development, and that’s just to name a few.  We all meet at The Fort Worth Nature Center on Tuesday nights.  On our first field trip, we went canoeing on the Trinity River.  I was paired with the plant enthusiast.  As I propelled the canoe forward using my paddles, I thought I heard his mind explode.  Like a broken record, he kept repeating, “You are wild....You are wild.”

“Would you stop saying that!” I practically spit the words.  

I think I blew the minds of several of my classmates that day.  I was in a good mood, so the volume on my personality was turned all the way up.  Anytime we would pass a creature on the river, I would ask if he’s single?  Then, does he mate for life?  Whenever our teacher would say that the organism doesn’t mate for life, I would scoff and express my disdain for his “lifestyle choices.”  Once, my partner in the canoe, tried to tell me that that is the way nature works.  Organisms don’t always mate for life.  Turning my head, I gave him the stink eye and said, 

       “Are you a pollinator!? You go from flower to flower, breaking hearts, never calling when  you say you’ll call, are you one of those guys?”

I saw a seven foot alligator patrolling his territory.  He watched our every move as we waded through the water to find microscopic organisms.  Using my net, I took a couple of rocks hostage.  I also touched an American Tree Frog.  He was attached to some vegetation alongside the river.  My companion in the canoe spotted him, and grabbed the plant.  He brought Froggie into our little boat.  So briefly, we were a family unit before his guilt kicked in.  He felt bad for taking the frog away from his home.  

“You should feel bad, because you are a horrible person.”  

(Sticks and stones might break my bones, but words will hurt forever.)

I ended up being the one to release Froggie back into the wild.  The American Tree frog is a cute critter.  I look forward to my next fieldtrip!!

Yellowstone

My time in Yellowstone “roused my appetite without bedding it back down.”  I arrived in Montana on the night of July 27th.  It was completely dark, but I could still see the outline of the mountains all around.  Checking in, I proceeded to go find my rental car.  Wheeling my luggage through the parking lot, I paused to inspect each vehicle.  I couldn’t find my car.  A gust of wind blew dust into my eyes, as I sat down on my luggage to wait for a miracle.  Within minutes an attendant asked, “Do you need help?”

    Reaching my hand to my forehead, I grabbed the strand of hair that had escaped and tucked it behind my ear.  “Yes, I can’t find my car.”

He glanced at the key chain in my hand, “May I?”

Offering it to him, I said “Certainly.” 

It took five seconds for him to push one button, and somewhere I could hear an alarm going off.  Following the sound, I walked further into this massive parking lot.  Finally, I saw the car at the very end of the parking lot.  When I arrived, I inspected it.  Black as the night, it was a brand new Ford Escape SUV.  After loading my bags, I sat in the driver’s seat.  Reaching my right hand up, I felt for a light switch.  Nothing.  I turned on the Flashlight app on my phone, to get a good look at the steering wheel.  There was no place for a key, only a single button that said Push-To-Start.  I pushed the button.  Nothing.  Stepping out of the SUV, I ran around the parking lot looking for the attendant.  He was gone.  Then, I remembered the phone number.  I called the rental car desk.  Dillon, the young man who had helped me, answered.  

Trying not to sound hopeless, I said “I can’t start the car.”

“Hold down the brake, while pushing the button and have the key chain on you.”

Keeping my voice cheerful, I said “Do you have any advice for me?”

“You can’t start the car, unless you have the key chain.  Don’t lose it.”

After we hung up, I was able to start the car.  Luckily, the drive to the hotel was super easy.  I got into my room, and unpacked.  For this trip, I had to pack my food items in my checked bag.  However, I learned that it is a bad idea to pack pickles.  Upon opening my bag, I discovered two of my pants were soaked in pickle juice.  There would be no opportunity to wash them.  My pickle pants were out.  This was my first time at Yellowstone and I wanted to make a good impression.  I went to sleep as soon as I hit the pillow.

The next day, I checked out at 6am.  Loading up my car, I pulled out my own music.  Once I started the drive, I realized that the sound system did not take CDs or have an auxiliary source for me to hook my ipod to.  Much to my dismay, I drove the entire way in silence--3 hours. I started to notice my difficulty breathing on the drive to the park.  The altitude was 1,000 feet and my lungs weren’t used to that.

I arrived at my class at 10:30am, an hour and a half late to my first day--no biggie.  Sneaking into the room, I sat in the very back.  The teacher kept talking.  When I looked around, I discovered that people of all ages and backgrounds were taking this class.  The youngest person was 14 and the oldest person was 70.

When we took a break for lunch, I unloaded my SUV and put my stuff in my assigned cabin.  I didn’t eat my pickles.  They had sufficiently pissed me off, so I threw them in the trash.  Somehow I managed to gulp down a tortilla and some string cheese, while feebly attempting to breathe.

My first day there, I tried to adapt.  I’m so used to being in the city, where hearing the sound of a cell phone ring or receive a text is familiar.  In the park, there was no cell reception.  At first this silence was odd, but then I started to like it.  I liked the freedom that comes from not being chained-to-your-phone.

It took me a while to warm up to the strangers in my class.  My favorite was a fellow named Chris, from England.  It was amazing that I did not annoy him because I was constantly switching from speaking normally to speaking as though I were Mary Poppins.  Considering my behavior, it was surprising that Chris kept choosing to sit next to me on the bus.  

Rising the next day at 5am, we immediately boarded the bus.  We rode into the heart of Yellowstone--Lamar Valley.  Setting up our equipment took some time, but it was a welcome distraction from the biting cold.  Tall pine trees and sage brush covered the land.  A hundred yards away, on a steep incline, I focused my telescope.  The den site was somewhere nearby.  Looking into the back country was deceptive to the eye, it appeared small, but actually it stretched on for miles.  My hands started to tingle.  Wishing that I had brought gloves, I kept looking for any signs of life.  After an hour shivering with my eye fixed on the scope, the eureka moment came.  Someone cried wolf.  Where?  In between the trees, they appeared.   Two black wolf pups were playing. They moved so fast, it was difficult to keep up. Watching them chase each other, my pulse increased.  My heart felt like it was doing the Texas-two-step in my chest. Even from a distance, this sighting was incredibly satisfying.  Everyone in the crowd reacted, like when you are in church, and suddenly you feel the Holy Spirit in the room.  After thirty minutes the pups ran back to the den.  Suddenly, a deep chorus of voices united.  The Lamar Valley wolf pack howled, and the sound was pure joy.  It bounced of the hills and we all tuned in.  When the howling ended, there was silence.  No one wanted to break the spell.  Eventually I climbed back into the bus with Chris and the others.  We returned to the ranch, all of us blissfully happy from seeing the wolves.

The beauty of Yellowstone National Park was so staggering, so mind-blowing that I left feeling completely revived, restored, refreshed!  I can’t wait to go back.

Into the Wilderness

In five days I will fly to Montana.  From there, I will drive to Wyoming, specifically Lamar Buffalo Ranch which is located in the heart of Yellowstone National Park.  Being the product of a sheltered urban upbringing, makes me equally excited and fearful about the prospect of this adventure.  Even strangers can glance at my face, and instantly tell by my pale skin that I do not get-out-much.  Considering how neurotic I can be, and how I consistently over think things, it is amazing that I am doing this.  Being alone and off-the-grid, while driving into and then staying inside, one of the largest generally intact ecosystems in the temperate world, is so foreign to me that I can’t compute.  My mind simply cannot access or download this idea.  When people ask if I’m excited about my trip I say, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”  Most of my experiences with nature have been imagined, or seen on TV, not real.  Sure I went camping once, but I ended up, like Matt Foley, sleeping in a van down by the river.  Last week on Tuesday, it was about noon with the sun bearing down hard, when I witnessed two Mockingbirds get hit and run over by an SUV.  With all traces of composure lost, I remained crestfallen for the entire day.  Pacing back and forth like an animal would in distress, I wanted to fix it, or improve this sad situation but I could not.  At the back of my mind though, I was aware that this was foreshadowing.  Nature is rough and difficult.  It is possible that I will see death again when I go to Yellowstone.  I have imagined gray wolves for so long, that I cannot predict how I will physically react when I actually see one.  I imagine that my reaction will be similar to how Elvis would respond after he returned to Graceland from a really long absence or how the overprotective clownfish Marlin would react when he finally found his wayward son Nemo.  Put it this way, I think about wolves as often as Pooh bear takes naps-which-is-all-the-time.  Wish me luck!!

A Close Encounter

On a hot afternoon, with

the summer sun blazing

he appeared.

With wings humming, 

he hovered, while

looking into my face.

In a blur of movement,

this colorful microscopic

creature paused to feed.

A hummingbird

is a constant hustler.

Earth Day

       Sunlight streamed through the trees illuminating the gravel pathway that led to the back door of the River Legacy Living Science Center.  Branches filled with leaves reached out in a giant embrace.  Under the canopy of trees, evidence of humans could be observed by the flash of a pale leg or a child’s squeal of delight.  

Booths lined the perimeter of the center.  Children and parents were in a state of constant motion, as they migrated from one station to another.  This relaxed mass of humanity had driven from all over the Metroplex to celebrate Mother Earth. It was Earth Day--the 43rd celebration since the day was created in 1970.  

As the children stopped to investigate the contents of each table, a bobcat appeared in the distance.  He crossed the path, silently, before disappearing under the cover of the dense forest. Small birds darted back and forth from branch to branch as they sang.  It was a good sign that man and nature could coexist peacefully.

The structural design of the center offers spectacular views of the woods.  The forest enters the building in the form of three living red oak trees in the center.  The structure was built to accommodate them, making the heart of the center literally rooted in nature.   

Next to the building several tables saddled with chairs and people were noticeable.  One table inside the center featured a sign that read “Paper Bead Jewelry.”  Children squirmed in their chairs while parents kept a watchful eye.  Wearing a neon green T-shirt with the word “VOLUNTEER” on the back, a woman approached the table.  Introductions were made.  Chesnut colored hair framed the face of this volunteer, as her hands maintained a constant state of motion.  She rolled a single strip of paper and then glued it to a straw.  After rolling it, it produced a perfect bead. 

The second shift of volunteers consisted of one adult and two teenagers.  While the teenagers texted on their phones underneath the table, children watched the process as the volunteer demonstrated step by step how to make the paper necklace.  

“Hello! Would you like to make a necklace?” the older volunteer’s clear voice rang out like a bell.

A blonde child responded, “I want to make 2 things: a necklace and a dinosaur.” After watching the process, the youngster quickly caught on.  

“How long do you want your necklace?” the volunteer asked as she focused intently on the string.

“More. Please. My mom has a giraffe neck.” Once completed the little girl put the necklace on her mom; they both seemed perfectly content.

As the activities drew to a close, a squirrel dressed in overalls sauntered past the booth.  He was a kid magnet to be sure as children came from all directions to give him a hug.  It’s not often that one sees an easy going, well dressed rodent. 

Earth Day at River Legacy was an excellent day for one and all.  We are all truly blessed to have this planet!

Happy Earth Day! And thanks River Legacy for the party.

Ghose, Tia. “Hug a tree! 5 fun facts about Earth Day.” LiveScience.com.  TechMediaNetwork Company.  22 April 2013. Web. 10 May 2013

The Biscuits Will Come

Yesterday, I was approached by a pair of kindred spirits.  One chap featured a full crop of blonde hair, rosy cheeks, and was wearing an orange Nebraska cotton sweatshirt.  Dark hair framed the face of the second fellow. He stood at least a foot taller than myself, and was dressed in black sweats.  

They both ordered a brewed coffee.  I was in the middle of ringing them up, when I uttered the words (using my fake British accent), “Would you like a biscuit?”  

(Currently, biscuit is my favorite word) 

Reaching up to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand, the dark haired chap immediately fired off, “NO.”

With a smile on my face, “Good, because we don’t have any biscuits.”

Channeling The Field of Dreams, the same fellow said quietly, .... “the biscuits will come.”

“Bravo, that’s the spirit, the glass is half full and so too are the biscuits.”

They both stood planted at my register, perhaps, waiting for an explanation.  

I began, “Just like the visionary, Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., I too have a dream...”

The blonde haired man finally joined the conversation, “What’s that?”

“If everyone in the world had a biscuit, there would be no hunger or war...and we would all look up to, or down at, the one that binds us together.”

“Who’s that?”

“The Pillsbury Doughboy, of course.”

Out of the Comfort Zone

Neal Donald Walsch once said, “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.”  Well, it seems that I have arrived at that place.  Break ups are never fun.  If you were to hand me an angry, injured spider and tell me to rehabilitate him, I would prefer that task to breaking up.  I am aware that endings are a natural part of the life cycle, but it is still hard.  I should be grateful that things are not worse.  For instance, it would be worse if “Tom Brady” had dumped me after a decade of being together. Do you remember a long time ago when Hugh Grant broke up with Elizabeth Hurley after 13 years together?  I was a teenager then, and I recall it blowing my mind, the idea, 13 years of dating.  On the other hand, you have Zsa Zsa Gabor, when I discovered she was with her 9th husband...(add 4 more and you’ve got a ‘baker’s dozen’ worth of husbands).  In Zsa Zsa’s case, till-death-do-us-part doesn’t really apply.  My current state of mind is reflected in the lyrics of the Madonna song “Jump.”  Here is an excerpt. 
‘We learned our lesson from the start, my sisters and me

The only thing you can depend on is your family

Life's gonna drop you down like the limbs of a tree

It sways and it swings and it bends until it makes you see

Are you ready to jump? Get ready to jump

Don't ever look back, oh baby

Yes, I'm ready to jump

Just take my hands, get ready to, are you ready?’

Angel Fire

Twas during the 9 o’clock hour on the morning of Wednesday, January 30th when the sun perched high in the sky that our journey did commence.  The sun was smiling.  We were headed to Angel Fire, New Mexico.  When I think of the name Angel Fire I imagine it's the latest development or bra from Victoria's Secret, but actually it is a place.  En route, I enjoyed the scenery, the landscape, but not the 8 hours of sitting.  My companion drove the entire time.  I was all hopped up on coffee.  The occasional nuggets of conversation went like this, “What’s your favorite animal?”  “I don’t really like animals.”  “Ok, well are you aware that you are dating animal girl?”  It seems that opposites do attract.  I love animals.  He loves Facebook.  Life has brought us together.  We went up through the Texas Panhandle.  My eyes stayed ever watchful for any sign of life.  Once I saw a shy yet brazen coyote run across the highway.  Unfortunately, small town police sat up and took note of our sporty vehicular transport.  We were pulled over twice, but somehow managed to get a simple warning not a ticket.  Snow framed the roads once we arrived in Amarillo.  One of the highlights of traveling through Amarillo was the Jesus Christ is Lord Travel Center.  It’s is a funny thought to imagine Jesus working at a gas station.  Our stomachs started to pitch a fit about not having food, so we yielded to their right of way.  Cracker Barrel appeared.  We ordered our food to go.  Seeing their soft peppermint candy for sale in the gift shop brought back memories from childhood.  Once we reached New Mexico, I saw four deer running in unison in a field.  Darkness covered the landscape when we finally reached Angel Fire.  The unmistakable form of 3 adult elks appeared for a moment near the road as we drove by.  When we arrived in town, we stopped at a gas station to ask where the resort was located.  The road to the resort was covered in snow.  We advanced up the hill briefly pausing to check a sign.  Once we slowed down, we could not get going again.  We got into reverse and went down the hill.  This time we increased speed without slowing down and that did the trick.  After turning into the resort’s parking lot, we checked in at the front desk.  It was very cold.  Sleep was immediate and deep that first night.  In the morning, we dressed for the ski slopes.  We met a friend and local named  Billy at the front desk.  I met Billy and his mom Carolyn for the first time.  They were both warm and charismatic.  Billy took us to eat at the Campfire Cafe.  It was a very popular breakfast restaurant run by a woman from Brooklyn.  She also owned a sleigh ride business, so she took every opportunity to remind us that we should ride in a sleigh pulled by one of her horses.  I ate blueberry pancakes.  After we left, Billy drove us to Red River.  We stopped to gaze upon the lovely image of the Eagles Nest Lake which happened to be completely frozen.  He pointed out the highest point, Wheeler Park. I enjoyed hearing the stories from his time as an extra for the movie Lone Ranger. We rented our skis at a local shop near the resort.  I learned it is a work out walking in skis without snow.  By the time I made it to the room my breathing had become labored.  Once we made it to the slopes it was 2pm.  We went to the lift.  I realized that my skis did not match up with my ski shoes.  I had to walk to the closest ski shop to get them to fix it.  After 10 minutes, we were hiking back to the lift.  We got on.  It took us up the mountain.  We were at an altitude of 8,000 feet.  At the top we dismounted.  We were both ill equipped to deal with the mountain.  Sure we had the proper gear on, but we were lacking that little thing called skill.  We were like two blind squirrels sitting in the middle of the road during rush hour.  My pulse raced when I saw him barely escape falling down the big hill.  He missed it by an inch.  We did not know how to brake or turn.  I chickened out and took off my skis.  I carried them on my shoulders the whole way down.  Once we made it down, we became aware of the location of the lift for the kiddie slopes. We tried our luck on the kiddie slopes.  It was an improvement, but I still did not know how to brake.  I got ambushed by a fence made of rope in my effort to stop.  As I struggled to break free, I got more entangled.  He kept saying, “If six year old’s can do it, we can do it, don’t give up.”  Being tied up is no fun.  I was shaking from sheer exhaustion.  When we made it back to the hotel, I collapsed.  After ordering food, we watched WaterWorld.  Waterworld is a classic B movie starring Kevin Costner.  He had never seen it.  Later, we met Billy and his friend Mark at the bar inside the resort to shoot some pool.  As the clock approached the ten o’clock hour we felt the call of the wild, and thus migrated to the hot tub where we did unwind.  Unfortunately our time in the hot tub was abbreviated since a hotel employee kicked us out.  Sleep was good.  Our hotel room was like a woman going through menopause: one moment unbearably hot, another moment frigidly cold.  On Friday, we went to breakfast at the local cafe again.  Then we adjourned to the ski rental shop where we reserved a time for a local man to coach us on the slopes.  It was the best fifty bucks I spent on the trip.  Tanner was born and raised in this tiny New Mexico town.  He taught us how to hold our “French fries” and how to manage our “pizza pie.”  Once we had mastered these basic moves, skiing became almost fun.  I would have gladly stayed on the kiddie slopes but we pressed on to the hill that was more challenging.  As we approached on the lift, I could feel a baby headache begin to form in my head.  We got off and started downhill.  I had had my “French fries” in the brake formation, but I was picking up speed and going faster than I liked.  Finally, my face collided with the mountain.  My legs landed in the snow.  The snow softened the impact, but I could detect a sting and an ache in my head that was not there before. My helmet landed in the snow a couple of yards away.  I was alone and shaking like a leaf.  I tried to get up.  The fall really scared me.  I was scared enough to know that I was done.  I resumed the journey downhill going as slowly as humanly possible.  Once I made it down, I walked to the hotel.  I swallowed two Advil, drank some water and tried to breathe.  My fearless warrior, my action man boyfriend continued to conquer the mountain one-French-fry-at-a-time while I tried to re-claim my serenity.  Once he had waged war long enough, he arrived back on the scene smelling of fresh mountain air.  Later that night, we dined at Zebs.  I ordered the blue corn enchiladas.  The blue was symbolic of the sky.  The corn symbolized my natural born corniness.  More importantly, enchiladas is a Spanish word that means heaven.  I ate my sky corny heaven and it was good.  The locals, Billy and Carolyn, entertained us while they smoked like chimneys.  A pool tournament had been organized.  We watched the competition.  Music blared from the jukebox.  Many of the tunes were country which means they were unremarkable.  I took the bull by the horns and selected a couple of songs.  An hour passed, when suddenly, out of the darkness and smoke, I could hear the beginning of my song.  My heart jumped.  I leapt wildly like-a-chihuahua-that-never-learned-how-to-dance-but-gosh-darn-it-I’m-gonna-try.  I went crazy to Akon’s “I Wanna Love You.”  Our interest in the outcome of the pool tournament waned, so we made the executive decision to hit the road jack.  We migrated back to the resort, where sleep did find us.  I woke up with a stiffness and soreness in my neck.  My mouth was dry as if I had swallowed a cactus.  I packed up my stuff.  We loaded up the car.  It was time to take my stiff neck and cactus breath home.  We drove through the mountains to Taos.  It was absolutely beautiful.  My ears popped a couple of times.  When we made it to Taos, we went to the Kit Karson museum.  I listened intently to the stories about Kit’s life.  We had lunch in town, then started the drive home. Superman, aka Sir Drive’s-a-Lot drove and drove and drove.  We thought about stopping for a prayer at the Jesus Christ is Lord Travel Center.  However, we were ready to get home so we didn’t stop.  Our adventure ended at 11pm on February 2nd.  The end.  

Goodnight, Goodbye, God bless.