Showing posts with label Mindfulness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mindfulness. Show all posts

Friday, February 10, 2023

Dailyappreciation

 

I recently got my copy of Patti Smith's "A Book of Days". It is a collection of a year of her photos and thoughts, memories and celebrations from her Instagram page, most of them created during the pandemic. There is a page for every day of the year. I've really enjoyed it so far and decided to read it one day at a time to fully appreciate the images and messages. Reading her introduction, it dawned on me that I had been doing something similar this past year with my photos and my life. I would never dream of comparing myself to Patti Smith, except in recognizing an intentional practice that we both seemed to have turned to in what she called, "deeply uncertain times". She has been in the habit of taking a photo and writing every day for years. I am a newcomer.

I have really been struggling for a while, and especially so in the last 2 years. My optimistic goals to power through the early part of the pandemic with nature walks and writing only worked so long. But then Covid and its variants stayed around and kept coming, and our activities took so long to return to normal, in addition to unbelievable political craziness, hurricanes, earthquakes, floods, fire, drought, war, shootings, riots, and ecological disasters, including the shrinking of the Great Salt Lake in my home state, I just couldn't keep it up. I tried. I composed dozens of "inspired" essays in my head when I took walks or gardened or went birding, but by the time I got home, I found that most of what I wanted to say felt unimportant and trite along side of the huge issues all around me and I'd let it go. As a result, I rarely posted in my blog. Eventually, I didn't really feel like going on those hikes, or even leaving home unless I had to. I was tired, and didn't see the point. I'm pretty sure I was depressed. 

On New Year's Day 2022 I decided that I needed to do something to pull myself out of the funk. I recognized that I always feel good when I am photographing nature, especially, the tiny things. I felt that a good way to start would be by making myself get out and find at least one thing that caught my attention or made me feel good every day, take a photo, and post it on Instagram with the hashtag #dailyappreciation. Posting made me accountable to other people and it would make it harder for me to ditch my personal goal, and Instagram doesn't necessarily require any text. Brevity is good. Some days I didn't go much further than my back yard, posting photos of a bug on the window, birds at the feeder, or lichen on twigs that fell from the big water oak. But the project forced me to look for something outside of the news, and that felt good. Most of the time I took pictures just with my phone. As the year progressed, and our activities returned to the new normal, we traveled and started visiting with family and friends, attending concerts and festivals again. I flew to visit my mom for the first time in 2 years. Sometimes out of cell phone contact, or traveling in the car cross country, there were days that I scrambled to find a picture and post it. But I was determined. There were a few days that the weather was bad or the day got away from me because I was too busy (a good thing!), and I dug into my photo archives for something memorable from that day sometime in the past, but I tried not to lean too much on that option. 

I started to hear comments from people who thanked me for my posts and that they looked forward to them as something beautiful or interesting each day. Their feedback buoyed me. I had a mission now and did not want to let my followers down. My meditative practice was spreading good energy, not just to me but to my friends. And so I posted every day, sometimes twice, for one year. The resulting body of work made me feel good and looks like a beautiful patchwork quilt in the Instagram layout. If I can ever figure out how to print the year, I will. It would be a cool poster. 

So here I am, a year later, still working on tuning out the noise. It's still not easy, and I'm afraid the uncertain times will be with us for a long time--maybe forever. But I'll keep looking for those things to appreciate and to steer myself out of the malaise, and I'll work at getting my deep thoughts out of my head and onto the page. Maybe not every day--that gets to be a grind! But I'll keep working and looking for the little things. And I'll keep sharing with my friends, because their feedback makes me feel good, and we all need a little beauty and love in our lives. 





 





















































Friday, April 18, 2014

Come Together

Cinnamon Fern Fiddlehead (Osmunda cinnamomea)
I get my blog topics from lots of sources. Surprising encounters, sudden inspirations, beautiful moments, special occasions, just to name a few. I'm always on the lookout for a new idea and usually have a few vague thoughts bubbling on the back burner. Sometimes it's really clear where I should go with the idea. Sometimes I can't quite figure how to lay it all out. Today is like that. I've been thinking a lot about several unrelated experiences, wondering how to or if I should share them. I think I will, anyway.

So it all started about 2 weeks ago when I was working in my garden and found the dead, dried body of a Pine Woods Snake, smashed on the path. I was really sad to see it because I find only one or two in the yard each year and thought, "there goes my shot this year". Selfish, I know, but I really look forward to seeing them. They are uncommon little snakes, harmless, dainty and shy, and surprisingly, our urban yard is a good habitat for them. What makes this especially tragic for me is that the mailman and I are just about the only people who walk on the path in our front yard, so chances are about even that I was the one who squashed it. So even in a lovingly created and nurtured nature sanctuary, the nature is not always safe.
Dead Pine Woods Snake
Then a week or so later, I was working in the yard again, finally trimming those bushes that I'd been waiting for warm weather to prune. I have 3 clumps of Plumbago in the front yard that have gotten big and rangy since we haven't had a hard freeze for a while. I had cut back one and was cleaning up for the day when I saw some movement on the vine on the ground close to the next clump of bushes. Big, fat Pipeline Swallowtail caterpillars were munching away on the Pipevine that is growing all around the area. I didn't even know the butterflies had been in the yard yet this season, let alone laying eggs!  A couple of days later I went back to see how the caterpillars were doing and found no sign of them, which could mean a couple of things. Either they had been eaten, or, more likely, they had climbed into some safe place to pupate. The obvious safe place was the clump of Plumbago right next to the vines, the one that I had hoped to tackle next in my big yard spruce up. So now I have a dilemma. Do I continue trimming so that the front yard looks symmetrical, or do I wait for the new butterflies to emerge from their chrysalids? It seems pretty obvious to me, now that I know what might be in there. I will wait for the butterflies and the yard will look a little lopsided for a while. In addition, the summer's first wave of baby birds recently hatched in the azalea bushes, so I'll need to wait to trim there, too. Anxious Carolina Wren and Cardinal parents flutter around me, making alarm calls when I walk too close. I'll make them sick with worry if I get in there with my clippers.

Wooly Pipevine (Aristolochia tomentosa)

Concerned Cardinal
Then yesterday I was driving through town, taking my mother-in-law to some errands and appointments, when we saw flashing police lights in the road ahead. I moved over, figuring that there had been an accident. Since it was close to campus, I was fearful that a bicycle had been involved. But I was totally unprepared for what I saw--a bald eagle sitting in the road, with police cars on the side directing traffic away from it. It was so unsettling to see this beautiful bird, injured and on the ground. It was alert, although it was on the road and holding its wings in a strange position. I hoped that it could be successfully rescued and rehabilitated, but I couldn't tell from the drive by. Still, I was shaken. My mother-in-law can attest to this, as I was so preoccupied with the injured eagle that I almost missed our turn a couple of miles later. I later learned that the eagle was able to fly off. Apparently it was chasing or was chased by crows through traffic and had been clipped by a car. What a shock that must have been to the driver, and to the eagle! It was a relief to know that it had survived. But it might not have turned out so well. Eagles get hit all the time.

Before I knew the eagle was ok, I needed to go somewhere to process my shock. I went to a wooded area behind a nearby strip mall/medical park/apartment complex and stewed over the plight of the eagle. It didn't take long in the woods before I felt better. I saw a turtle and a number of lovely birds, including a Pileated Woodpecker that I watched from just inside the bushes. The woods were a refuge for those animals and for me. But they were also strewn with trash, and I could hear the roar of lawn mowers and smell engine exhaust from the parking lot yards away.
Pileated Woodpecker

Trash in the Sanctuary
Last week I found and photographed a beautiful Grass Pink orchid in a conservation land area. I shared photos of the plant in my various online sharing groups, but I have learned that I have to be careful not to say exactly where I find rare flowers because collectors might use the information to go dig up the plant. Weeks before this, a friend shared photos and the location of a beautiful bird nest with eggs. But other people cautioned against giving locations of wildlife nests and dens for fear that all the attention of interested gawkers and photographers could scare off the parents.
Grasspink Orchid (Calopogon multiflorus)
My friend stopped traffic on a busy intersection last week while she rescued a turtle crossing the road. She used her car door to block the lane and made sure the turtle was out of harm's way. When people realized why they couldn't pass, they waited patiently. It's Florida, after all, and this happens all the time.

This weekend when I was driving home from the grocery store I looked through the windshield and saw this:
Anole on the Wipers
A brown Anole had taken refuge under the hood of the car and was riding on my windshield wipers. I pulled over and tried to catch it, but the lizard ran away and hid under the hood again. There wasn't really anything I could do at that point but continue on my journey. There is a chance that the lizard flew off the car and into the street somewhere, or maybe it is still safe in the engine compartment.

5 Florida Panthers have been hit and killed by cars so far this year, and a beloved Red-Tailed Hawk in Massachusetts was found dead last week, an unintentional victim of rat poison. A Florida woman was injured when she went outside and found 5 bears rummaging through her trash. Several of the bears were killed by FWC to prevent other incidents.

To top it all off, I had an odd dream the night before last. Before I saw the eagle in the road, but after the snake and turtle. I dreamt that there was a hawk sitting on the floor of my house. It was lying in a strange position, all tangled up. I wasn't sure if it was hurt or not. I picked it up, knowing that I had to be careful with the sharp talons. I held it in my arms, grasping its legs like I would a baby. It seemed comforted as I held it close. I remember noting that it felt soft, like a cat or a rabbit.

I don't know where that dream came from. I don't believe that it was a message forewarning me about the eagle. But I do think that the dream represented somehow my view of the relationship that humans have with nature in our daily lives. I think I am concerned about caring for the world around me. I worry a lot about the fate of animals like the whooping crane, the polar bear, elephants and rhinos. Panthers and bears and hawks. I fear that our last wild places will be exploited and torn apart in the interest of money, power and greed and that our exploding populations will use up all the resources that all the creatures on the earth have to share. But I also believe that most humans care about protecting the natural world. I believe people acting intentionally can live alongside of the natural world in relative harmony, if we want to. We just have to be careful and thoughtful. Accidents will happen, no matter what we do, but if we try even a little it makes the chances of doing harm all that much smaller.

It makes me happy to know that I live in a place where traffic will stop to protect an injured eagle, and that the story will make the front page of the paper. I like to know that a turtle in the road has a chance if the right person finds it. It fills me with hope to know that people are so eager to see a bird nest and its contents. I love that I live around urban park refuges, tiny snakes, wild orchids, hungry caterpillars and car surfing lizards. I am thankful for groups that clean up trash, pull exotic plants and study wildlife. I applaud scientists and engineers that are finding ways for us to live together on this planet, leaving a smaller footprint. I am encouraged by environmental educators who want to teach a new generation to care about nature.

We just have to be mindful that we are sharing this planet and know that what we humans do might have bigger consequences. We have great responsibilities. With Earth Day just around the corner, this seems relevant and I think that is how it all comes together.






Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Watch Out!

I could have called this entry "take care" or "watch your step" or "look!". What I call it doesn't matter. The big idea is really about mindfulness. I was out at Paynes Prairie today trying to FINALLY see the Groove-billed Ani that everyone keeps talking about. (I've been looking for it for weeks now and hadn't seen it). So I'm walking along the trail, watching the tops of the shrubbery, and I happened to look down just in time to avoid stepping in some fresh coyote scat. While I stood and felt thankful for clean shoes, a Red Spotted Purple butterfly stopped by and fed on the scat for a moment, then flew off, leaving the poop to me and the dung beetles.

Red-Spotted Purple and Scat (It's blurry because I was surprised!)
A bit later I got talking with a fellow birder and we walked together in search of the elusive Ani. This guy was traveling all the way from Oregon and REALLY wanted to see the famous bird. We talked and searched as we walked along the grassy path. I happened to look down, and to my shock, I was inches from stepping on this Cottonmouth. I stepped away and warned my fellow birder and we both took a few minutes to marvel at the beautiful snake, at the same time feeling thankful that I had looked down when I did.

Cottonmouth (Don't worry, I was 6 feet away when I took this)
A little after that, I headed to a raised walkway and came inches again from stepping on a Polyphemus Moth that was resting on the boards. I took lots of photos and picked the poor thing up and moved it out of traffic. It seemed old and tired. I imagine it was dying. But I'd hate to have stepped on it.

Moving the Polyphemus Moth
About that time I decided that all of these near misses were a sign that I was not paying attention. From that point on I determined that as I looked for birds, I also needed to watch where I walked. So, I was focused on my feet as I came around the bend and found this alligator crossing the path.

Gator on the Move
Looking down wasn't enough. I needed to be tuned in all around. When I go out photographing with an agenda, I get tunnel vision. But I always realize that it's so much better to just open yourself to the infinite possibilities of what is out there. Slow down, breathe, use all your senses. You'll see a lot more.

I continued on and if I hadn't been watching all around, I would have stepped on this pretty ant hill.

Ants
I would have missed this beetle.

Beetle Escaping into the Grass
And I could have squashed this Wooly Bear Caterpillar.

Watch Out for Wooly Bears!
If I'd been in a hurry, I would have walked right by this Purple Thistle (Cirsium horridulum) and the Whirlabout Skipper blissfully nectaring on it.

Slurrppp!

On the return trip, I got careless and started to hurry again, narrowly avoiding stepping on this moth on the ground. A reminder. Slow down. Look around.

Lucky Moth
I saw this caterpillar on the railing.



And this Tussock Moth Caterpillar on the railing further down the way.

Doesn't it Look Like it Has Antlers?
The Polyphemus Moth was still there, but sitting safely in the leaves away from the path.

Blending In With the Leaves
This Broad Headed Skink was peeking out from under the composting toilet.

There Must Be Good Bugs in There
Oh, and by the way, I did see that sneaky Ani.

Groove-billed Ani (Finally!)