Journey in Place: Healing

Lake Herrick Memorial

It's been almost 2 weeks since Laken Riley, a young nursing student, was murdered in the woods a few blocks from my home in Athens, GA. After a little more than 24 hours of uncertainty and fear for public safety, the police announced that they had arrested a suspect and that there was no longer an immediate threat. It appears that the crime was a terrible, random act. Laken was a runner and was out on the trails in the woods where she often ran. She told a friend where she would be, and then she didn't come home when expected. It was just a random and needless tragedy. Grieving UGA students held a vigil early last week for her and for another student who had taken his life the day before. The community is still in pain. The crime has become an issue much bigger than Athens because it is believed that the suspect is an undocumented foreigner. In these highly charged times, immigration is a white hot topic and politicians have seized on it. I don't want to go much further into that here, but I have to say that it has been very distressing to see our local tragedy playing out in the national, and even international news over and over again and I find it to be opportunistic and exploitative. 

Bloodroot Meadow

When I wrote my last blog entry I was in shock. I was in mourning for the death of a joyful young woman, for her family and friends, and for our community's loss of its sense of safety. How could this happen in a place that I and just about everyone I knew considered to be safe space and a refuge? And how could such an awful thing happen in a park I had come to love, right in the spot I had been writing about for weeks in an exercise about exploring place? I wasn't sure at that time that I would ever be able to go back. I didn't know if I would be or feel safe, or how it would feel to be there knowing that a young woman's future had been violently snuffed out, right there. 

Round Leaf Hepatica

A number of friends who read my post commented, wisely, that the danger is always there, especially for women, but that we can't let this stop us from living and enjoying our lives. And I know this is true. Deep down I knew I would I would eventually get back to Lake Herrick and continue to hike and explore as I have done in the past. But this really shook everyone up, especially before a suspect had been charged with the crime. Several kind people offered to accompany anyone who felt unsafe on runs or bird walks, walking to the parking lots, etc. The University and the City of Athens are taking measures to improve safety, and I'm sure it will make some difference. Now, 2 weeks later, I am pretty sure I will feel ok walking alone, but I will take more precautions. My husband wants me to carry a whistle, and I won't go out owling at night or do early morning birding without someone with me. There are some remote places that in the past I have explored on my own. I will bring a buddy with me now. Not because things suddenly became unsafe, but because this murder reminds us of the ever present danger. The police may have arrested this particular man, but as long as there are other violent or desperate or mentally ill people out there to seize on an opportunity, they will do it. It sucks but it's reality. 

Trail Through the Flowers

Several readers commented about this "wounded place", a term I feel is especially appropriate for Lake Herrick. That's what this is to me now--a place that has absorbed trauma and sadness. It will take a long time to overcome that wounding. I was able to go back and walk the trails in the woods this week, first with my husband and later with a friend. Though the trails had re-opened days before, we were hesitant to go there too soon out of respect for the young woman's family and friends who were still in deep mourning. When we did go, the whole place was unusually quiet. We went during the first weekend of spring break and there were very few people around. It was peaceful and reverential. We felt a little apprehensive walking the trail so near where we think the violence occurred, in case we encountered some bit of police tape or tracks or some other evidence of what had occurred there. But we did not see any of that, and soon our hesitancy was replaced with appreciation for the blooming wildflowers and birdsong and a beautiful blue sky. My husband and I walked and smiled and even took a selfie in the bloodroot meadow. When we walked, my friend and I chatted about life and watched a turtle tromp down the creek to a dead end. It felt almost normal. But if I let my mind stray away from the nature and beauty, I immediately remembered where I was and what had happened there and it made me sad again. Nature is a wonderful healer, but it will take time. We won't forget but our community will heal. 

Bloodroot Blossom

SunningTurtles

Searching for Feathers

"Hope" is the thing with feathers

-- Emily Dickinson

In our consciousness, there are many negative seeds and also many positive seeds. The practice is to avoid watering the negative seeds, and to identify and water the positive seeds every day.
--Thich Nhat Hanh

Cardinal watching me through the rain

I'm so very glad that it is finally 2018. 2017 was a spectacularly crappy year, for many reasons that I won't go into. Some were the obvious troubles that we're all faced with these days, and others were very personal, but it was definitely a year that I would like to put behind me. 2017 was a year of too many challenges. Sometimes I felt scared, sad or angry. There have been days and weeks where I was filled utter despair and anxiety, where the future seemed dark. But I believe that I am an optimist at heart and didn't want to succumb. I didn't want the negative things to drag me down with them. I tried various coping strategies for dealing with my feelings, with varying degrees of success. Not surprisingly, the best one so far has come from within. I made an attitude adjustment. I'm working to replace all that negativity around me by flooding my brain with the positive things. Rather than allowing myself to wallow in the "why me's", I've been trying to be thankful, to look for the good, and to appreciate the beauty around me. It's not easy, especially when I'm feeling down, but when I can actually pull this off it works really well. And when I need inspiration, I often turn to birds. Birds are easy. They're everywhere and yet each time I see them I find something new to appreciate and that turns my attention from my own brain and focuses it outward to the world.

Carolina Wren singing

Even in freezing cold, sweltering heat, or on a gray rainy day, I can look out my window and see these beautiful, interesting, and sometimes funny creatures moving around in the trees and shrubs.

White-throated Sparrow cocks his head

We have installed bird feeders all around the front and back yards and they are active year round. Usually it is just birds, but sometimes a lucky squirrel hurls itself from a bush and lands in the tray, and of course, there are always spilled seeds on the ground for the chipmunks (and our dog). Sometimes I will look out and see nothing but mourning doves or house finches, gobbling away in the feeders.

Doves, House Finches, Pine Warbler and Oriole all sharing a meal

Other days, great flocks of grackles descend on the yard, chasing the rest of the birds off of the seed and even away from the jelly that I leave out for orioles. In the spring, cooper's hawks come to hunt at the bird feeders. And it's all good. I love watching them all. Each one has its good points. I don't mind the responsibility of buying food, filling the feeders and keeping them clean, because it gives me the opportunity to watch these little feathered miracles up close.

Hermit Thrush in the driveway

The bright red on a Downy Woodpecker is always a thrill

House Finches are beautiful

Making an EBird report from the kitchen window takes my mind off of everything but watching the birds to complete my list. And after making these lists for several years now, I know which birds come and go with the seasons and wait in joyful anticipation for the return of the robins and waxwings, the juncos and sapsuckers, and the occasional rarity.

Long whiskers on a Pine Warbler

Unusual coloration on this Carolina Wren caught my eye

Ruby-crowned kinglet turns its head to find seeds

Last winter we "hosted" a rare rufous hummingbird and a trio of also rare orioles. It took a lot of work to keep the feeders full, thawed and clean through the winter so the hummer wouldn't starve. Knowing that he might return this year has given me much to look forward to. So far, no sign of the little guy, but his friends, the orioles, came back last week. When I hear their cackling calls and catch a glimpse of bright orange, it gives me a thrill and is just another reminder that life is good and that I am lucky indeed. I'm still hoping to see a rusty brown hummingbird blur zipping across the yard one of these days, and even though he hasn't shown up yet, just knowing there is a chance is good enough. So I'm searching for feathers--the beauty, goodness and joy in life--and watering those positive seeds, and I think it's working. I'm looking forward to a great year to come.

The vivid orange of a male Baltimore Oriole takes my breath away