Beautiful Stranger

My favorite photo of our visiting Hooded Oriole

Our yard hosts many lovely birds each year and we are especially lucky that a group of Baltimore Orioles comes back to us every winter. They start appearing sometime around October and leave in March or April. They are uncommon in Athens, Georgia, so when I report them on the citizen science reporting app, eBird, they get marked as rare or unusual and a report goes out to birders who might be interested in seeing them. This winter was no exception. When they arrive in the fall, I place several dishes of cheap grape jelly in feeders around the yard because they are fruit eaters and they love the sugar. So it was not unusual for me to look out of the kitchen window on January 1 and see a pretty orange and black bird gobbling jelly. Just another oriole, I thought. But something was off. This bird did not look like the typical orioles we see in Georgia. The adult male Baltimore Orioles are almost neon orange with a black head and back. The females and young are lighter orange with brownish orange heads, or in the case of the young males, splotchy black heads as they mature. This bird was a lighter shade of orange, with an orange head, a black chin and face, and a black tail. My heart started to pound. This was something special! I am not an expert birder. I like to watch them and know how to identify a lot of birds, but I'm hesitant to report that I've seen something rare because I'm often wrong. I'm a person who is prone to hear hoofbeats and think zebras. I pulled out my field guides and used the ID feature on my iPhone and all signs pointed to a Hooded Oriole! I was so excited that I was starting to hyperventilate. But then I looked at the range map and saw that they are not seen in Georgia. They are west coast birds, ranging from California to Mexico, Southern Arizona, New Mexico and Texas. Red flag. I was very unsure. So, I decided to post a photo of it on Facebook saying, I think I have a Hooded Oriole in my yard and waited for my experienced birder friends to kindly talk me down. Minutes later, the thumbs up appeared, and several trusted people validated my report! So exciting! But that was just the beginning of the monthlong saga that caused my yard to be named "Stakeout Hooded Oriole" to the birding world.

First blurry shot with my phone

You can see the oriole was far out of his normal range

Later that afternoon I received a call from my friend Richard, who is an expert birder and has, himself, reported rare birds in his beautiful native yard habitat. He was calling to walk me through what happens when you report a very rare bird on eBird. A rare report triggers emails to people who are interested in seeing rarities in their own city, state, region or nationally. Richard had actually hosted a Hooded Oriole in his yard during the winter of 2025 and we suspected that this could be the same one. He said that when it came to his yard it was only the 2nd sighting of a Hooded Oriole in Georgia, making ours the 3rd. Pretty cool. When the bird was in Richard's yard, he stuck around for several months and made himself viewable for many, many interested people. I think Richard told me 150 or so. He told me that we were under no obligation to make the yard available to the public, but that if we did we would need to set some boundaries that worked for us, and people would need to respect them. After talking with my husband, we decided that it was a good thing to share a special birding opportunity with the public, so I reported the bird and let people know they were welcome during certain hours and with some restrictions. Hoodini, as he had been nicknamed last year, was very shy and at that point was feeding mostly in our fenced back yard. I have dogs and they need to go outside, so we needed to work around that. And our family needs to use our garage and driveway. But I figured that people would just have to deal with us if they wanted to see the big star. There were no issues.

I was relieved when he returned!

No issues, except that after I reported him, Hoodini was nowhere to be seen. I didn't see him again for a couple of days. But the day after I posted the report I looked out of my window to see a line of people across the street from my house with their binoculars and cameras trained on our yard. I think there were about 10 people, but I couldn't get a great view without going outside and disturbing them. Birders were standing in my front yard, and walking cautiously through the gates of the back yard. No one saw the Hooded Oriole that day and I felt bad like it was somehow my responsibility to give them a good show. Luckily, our Baltimore Orioles stepped up and people were pretty happy to see them as a consolation prize, since they are uncommon. One report said we had 9 of them at one time. And I should mention that we also had a couple of also uncommon Tennessee Warblers. So it wasn't a total waste of time. But still I hoped Mr. Hoodie would return.

Light colored Baltimore Oriole young male

Vivid orange adult male Baltimore Oriole

Uncommon winter visitor--Tennessee Warbler

A day or two later I looked out the kitchen window and he was back! I let Richard know and he came right over and was able to take some nice photos through the window. At least I hadn't imagined a rare bird. And the day after that Richard sat in the yard for a while and was able to get some wonderful photos of Hoodini tussling with Baltimore Orioles over the jelly dish. I was pretty jealous though. I had only gotten blurry, terrible pictures and this was my house! My problem was that he was so skittish that just moving my camera near a window scared him away. And he never stayed for long. And if I went outside it would take a long time for all the birds to calm down again after opening the doors. But I waited patiently. More visitors came. At one point someone called the UGA campus police to report suspicious looking people with binoculars. When the police were told what was going on they thought it was neat and we didn't have any more problems. I hadn't thought of notifying my neighbors, so I talked to some and wrote up a note to leave with my contact info. There were no police complaints after that.  

Finally a nice photo! Soooo pretty!

Most of my shots looked like this

As Hoodini got more comfortable in the yard, he started spending more time at the front yard feeders, which was better for visitors and gave me my best viewing spot from inside the house and I finally got some beautiful photos of him. My daughter and granddaughter were able to see him, which made me happy. The visitors who came were very appreciative and courteous. I saw some people day after day, hoping to get a peek at him. One group of young guys set up across the street with lawn chairs. People came from as far as Atlanta. One man set up his tripod in the back yard and stood in a light rain for hours, just waiting. Finally he moved to the front yard, where he met another couple of people who were hoping to see him. I went out to say hi and just then, Hoodini made his appearance! High fives all around. People offered to help me pay for jelly. Richard brought me a jar (the fancy stuff) and a nice note. It was all pretty great. We did not get a huge number of people because many had their chance to see him last year. But there were enough that it felt like an event. 

Success at last!

The Celebrity

For the next few weeks the Hooded Oriole came to our yard every day. I only saw him once or twice each day, and there's no telling if he was visiting one of the feeders that I wasn't watching at the time. I couldn't be everywhere and all at once! The other orioles were around all day, usually from about 8am to 4pm, bouncing from station to station. I have no idea where Hoodini went when he wasn't with me. No one else reported seeing him in their yard. Was he like a stray cat, visiting all the feeders in the area? Was he just hanging out in the bushes somewhere? I have no idea. 

Taking turns at the jelly with a female Baltimore Oriole

The last part of January brought unseasonably cold and wintery weather to Athens. Temperatures dipped into the teens and one weekend we had a freezing rain. I kept the jelly dishes full as well as I could, and Mr. Hooded Oriole came to feed with the rest of the gang. Jelly is a quick energy source for lots of birds, especially when it is cold. In addition to Orioles, we regularly see Orange-crowned Warblers, Yellow-rumped Warblers, Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Mockingbirds, Cardinals, Cowbirds, and later in the spring, Catbirds, all enjoying the jelly. This year we also had the Tennessee Warbler, and I watched Red-winged Blackbirds helping themselves when it was especially cold. It stayed icy and cold for the week and the next weekend it snowed a few inches--lots of winter for our area. 

Icy tree branches. Everything outside was slick.

There was even ice on the birds

Yellow-rumped Warbler

Red-winged Blackbirds prefer birdseed but will eat jelly when they're hungry

Cardinals won't pass up a sweet burst of energy

I guess the birds hunkered down and took shelter in bushes or leafy trees in the icy rain and snow. When there was a break in the snow I saw lots of activity at all the feeders as the birds refueled so they could maintain their warmth and energy. Baltimore Orioles will also eat seed and suet and even camellia flowers (possibly for the nectar?), though I never observed Hoodini eating anything other than jelly. In the wild, Hooded Warblers eat insects, but those are hard to find in the snow. I didn't see him again until the next day after the snow had ended. He came and ate a few times, and then he was gone. I haven't seen him since February 1. 

Two Baltimore Orioles bickering over the jelly while the snow falls

He showed up one last time the day after the snow storm. This is my last photo.

I have watched for him every day for a month. I guess he has moved on, but I worry about him. He does not have the safety of a flock of other Hooded Orioles to travel with. Though he interacted with the Baltimore Orioles, he was not part of their group. Several times I saw a neighbor's cat prowling in the yard and it gave me a start. I shooed it away, but I know it could come back another time. I think I saw fox tracks in the snow. I also saw a Cooper's Hawk in the front yard, eyeing the feeders. They hunt birds in our yard all the time. A Red-tailed Hawk in the back yard had the local birds spooked for a while until they realized it was busy eating its squirrel, and they went about their business. I hope Hoodini is safe. I hope he has moved to some place with lots of bugs and jelly. I hope I see him again (or maybe I don't, because he doesn't belong in Georgia, so far away from his native range and fellow Hooded Orioles). But for one month it was nice to have something magical to take my mind off all the awful stuff going on in our country and in the world. Fare thee well, my beautiful hooded friend. 

Attractions, not Distractions

Stand Up for Science Rally in Washington D.C.

I am a caring person and I take my personal responsibilities as a citizen (locally, nationally, globally) very seriously. I try to stay involved and informed. I vote in every election and I follow the news. But since the new administration took over this January, it has been pretty overwhelming. The cruelty, waste and wanton destruction in this administration is hard to fathom. They have done amazing amounts of damage in a very short time. Things I once took for granted--the constitution, our relationship with the rest of the world, our social safety net, citizenship and immigration, vaccines, veteran's care, scientific research, universities, national parks, history, language (to name just some)--are being destroyed before my eyes.  It feels like we are descending into a dystopian science fiction novel. It makes me feel sad and hopeless for the future, and some days I want to just turn off the news, curl up in a ball, and ignore it all. But I can't do that forever. So I pay attention. I write and call my representatives. I donate to causes I believe in. Last month I traveled to Washington D.C. with my husband to attend the Stand Up For Science rally. I plan to attend more rallies. But I still feel pretty overwhelmed. It makes my heart hurt. 

Lichen on a twig

So what's a person to do? How do you keep going with this constant onslaught of chaos and destruction? How do you re-charge? I've tried some of the distractions that we turned to during the this president's last administration, and the scary months of COVID shutdown. I've tried comfort eating, but then my clothes don't fit. Drinking away my sorrows works for a couple of hours, but then I wake up with a headache in the morning. Binge watching shows and movies helps me escape for a while, but when I turn off the TV and, nothing has changed.

Fading Hepatica flower next to green moss

I was thinking about a friend, Susan, who died many years ago. In her last days when I talked to her she told me that she was looking for Attractions, not Distractions. It took me a long time to appreciate what she meant by that, but I think I get it now, and I think that is what I need in this moment. I don't want to cover up or block out what is happening right now. I need to feel that. But I also need something that draws me and enriches and fills my hurting heart, something that can exist beyond this moment that I can tap into when I need it in the future. 

Ocean of Bloodroot leaves. The flowers must have been glorious a few weeks ago

One last Bloodroot blossom 

Nature does this for me. This weekend I walked in the Lake Herrick woods and after I was able to get my brain to turn off the inner commentary--about politics, litter, loud cars, drones over the lake, invasive plants--I started to connect again. I heard my own breath and the sound of my footsteps on the path. I heard birds song, saw wild flowers, noticed colors and shapes, smells and the greenness of spring. I spent 10 minutes or so watching a red-shouldered hawk that landed on a tree near the path. I think it was hunting for food for its mate that I heard calling from across the woods. It watched me as I slowly walked closer. It didn't fly away when I raised my camera. I walked on, and the hawk stayed put. The peace of that moment stays with me still. 

Red-shouldered Hawk encounter

Family. Friends. Pets. Music. Art. Service. Creativity. Love. These are all attractions that can give us strength for another day. And they build us up rather than covering up, or tearing down. Go find the Attractions. 

Journey in Place: Frame of Reference

Map at the Park Entrance

As I sit at my desk writing I am a bit distracted by the large flocks of Cedar Waxwings and American Robins that have descended on my yard this cold January morning. They are dropping from their sunny perches in the trees down to our small pond that has abundant flowing water, a scarcity today when the temperatures are barely warming up from the teens of last night. They are also feeding ravenously on the berries of the Chinese Holly and Japanese Privet that line my yard. Like them or not, the large and established (albeit exotic) bushes do provide food and shelter for hungry birds.

In our 2nd Journey In Place exercise, Janisse asked us to put our Place in spatial perspective, identifying the location, bioregion and boundaries, and then decide to whom the study should be dedicated. Then came the toughest part, for me at least--we were asked to sketch a map of our Place. After walking the trails and doing some research, I came up what I think represents the way I view my Place. I wish I had the patience to carefully sketch and print beautiful letters, but that just doesn't seem to be me. I get impatient. Here is my map:

My Map

So, about my place. My place is the Oconee Forest Park, a natural area on the University of Georgia Campus. It is located within the bioregion of the Southern Outer Piedmont of Northeast Georgia and is in the Upper Oconee River Watershed. The park consists of 60 acres of hundred-year-old trees on rolling hills that edge a 15-acre manmade lake. It is bordered by an unused railroad track, tennis courts and band practice fields on the west side, a highway ("The Loop) on the south and east, and College Station Road and the Intramural Fields to the North. It contains two manmade lakes, one large one (Lake Herrick) and a much smaller one (Little Lake Herrick). Lake Herrick is fed by a small stream that catches runoff from the 5 Points neighborhood on the north side, where I live. Water from Little Lake Herrick up above, supplies water to Herrick Creek that runs through a ravine and down into the larger lake below, where Herrick Creek picks up again and flows into the North Oconee River to the northeast. 

Boardwalk on hill leads to Bridge across the lake

Big, beautiful oak on the Lake Trail, by exercise equipment

Intramural Field on a frosty morning

One of the platforms the looks over the lake

Mountain Bike Trail and Power Line Cut

Herrick Creek

Hiking and mountain bike trails wind around the lakes, and through and around the forest. Service roads serve as wider trails and allow access for maintenance equipment. Facilities on site include fishing docks, a boat ramp, picnic areas, and a ropes course. A wooden boardwalk next to ball courts leads to a bridge across a narrow arm of the lake. The area serves as an outdoor classroom for forestry, biology and ecology students, and is popular with runners, walkers, bikers, dog walkers, photographers, artists, and nature lovers, both students and the general community. Oconee forest Park is an ebird hotspot. 

Kingfisher on one of the platforms in the lake

Killdeer Chick in an Intramural Field

Stinkhorn Fungi

Fox

Heron in the Lake on a Misty Morning

Snake Tree

Tree Frogs by Little Lake Herrick

Bloodroot Patch

While preparing to draw my map I looked at existing maps of the area online and discovered that some of the unmarked trails actually have names! I learned that my "comfort spot" is located on "Tranquility trail", which makes perfect sense because it exudes peace and calm. "Tranquility Trail" follows the contour of the hillside and over a ridge to the "Birdsong Loop", another favorite and aptly named trail. On a map, I think the Oconee Forest Park looks kind of like a heart. I like the image of it providing lifeblood to the community through physical and mental health, protected habitat, and its place in the watershed, channeling water to the Upper Oconee River. I picked it as my Place because of its proximity to home, and because it was a lifesaver for me during the Covid pandemic when everything else was closed and I needed a place to breathe and think. It has provide me with endless hours of peaceful contemplation birdsong, and discovery. I would like to dedicate my Journey In Place to the people who had the foresight to create this oasis (one of whom was my friend, Walt Cook--more on him and his role another time), the people who are working currently to maintain and improve it, and to my fellow travelers who share it with me.

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.