The dike trail at Hellcat Swamp in the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge was opened for a week not long ago. As I walked the trail on the outer western edge of the Refuge, along the banks of the Plum Island River, I could feel the sun so warm and comforting on my back.
There was a special sense of peace felt there walking in this space that see when ever I make a trip to the Refuge.. I asked so often as I stop at Northpool Overlook, “what is out there?” Continue reading
I thank the Great Mother Goddess every day for this Earth and the profound connection that I feel to this Earth and the Mother. Today’s Quote of the Day is a favorite from the prolific fiction and non-fiction author, Wendell Berry. His nature writing speaks of my own thoughts and senses on nature:
The Earth sustains us. Please treat her with care.
Musings from my nature writing journal…
A cardinal flew across the road today as I was walking. It darted out from the trees and made a quick trajectory to the other side of the road, flashing its brilliant scarlet-feathered figure in a swift streak before my eyes. I became transfixed upon the stand of trees and brush that the cardinal had descended into, managing somehow despite its brilliant color to blend in to the colorful fall foliage. There it sat hidden in nature’s camouflage. And, I waited, patiently and quietly for him to emerge, ever peering deeper into the wood to catch a glimpse of him fluttering from limb to limb. Continue reading
Musings on a late summer’s day from my journal…
The tidal waters converged around the sandbar creating a rippling wave that crisscrossed and danced diagonally on the shore. The blue ocean water sparkled in the large tidal basin evoking the vision of a large sapphire sitting in the sun.
As I waded in the warm tidal pool I looked down to see a school of minnows swirling about my feet and my ankles. I imagined that they tickled my flesh as they swam by so swiftly in the sun-warmed water.
What a blessing to have this perfect last beach day soaking up the sun and lolling in the water that was near warm enough to be in the tub. Life was teeming at the water’s edge, from the minnows and hermit crabs to the sanderlings and piping plovers and of course, the large shore birds, the gulls of the Atlantic shore. Soon the cooler fall air would shift into play and the warmer weather birds would migrate.
The vast swarms of swallows had left the refuge just a few days ago. The purple martins were also gone. The songbirds had long moved on. Summer was winding down. The green marshes had been showing a hint of fall color for a few weeks, but suddenly there was a riot of color exploding in bursts across the landscape.
Last night I just discovered a Carolina Wren sleeping under the eaves on my front porch. My first reaction was what the heck is that little brown thing up there in the corner? I have red squirrels, chipmunks and field mice around the yard. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was a little rodent or some other strange creature. Finally after peering out the door at it for a time, I opened the front door, went out and walked up underneath it. As I slowly, quietly walked up below it, I realized it was a little bird. It didn’t flinch a feather as I stood there a couple of feet beneath it, peering up at in the light of the porch lamp. After observing it from different angles and being certain I was not disturbing it in any way, I went inside and grabbed my camera to take some photos, because it looked so strange all puffed up there, roosting in the corner as it was.
I knew it was not a Sparrow and given the coloring, I thought it must be Wren of some sort. Checking my bird book, I determined it must be a Carolina Wren. My first instinct, once I realized it was a Wee Little Wren, a favorite bird of mine, was to take it down from the corner and hold the poor little creature in my hands to warm it up. It made me cold to see it up there roosting in the corner instead of in a warm nest or bird house somewhere. I myself was shivering from the chill in the air.
“Why was it not roosting in a bird house,” I questioned myself? “There are plenty of bird houses about in the yard,” I told myself. “Perhaps it is new to the neighborhood, as I am,” I thought. Perhaps it is lost and sought shelter here on my front porch. Continue reading