Blueberry Solstice

Happy Solstice! I celebrated the first day of Summer in the summeriest way I know--picking blueberries! It turns out that Florida is a great place for growing blueberries. There are lots of wild, native varieties, but cultivated berries also do very well here and there are many blueberry farms around Gainesville. I do my picking at a You-Pick farm. We've tried several places and they were all great, but I've come to love my June excursions to the Blueberry Woman.

Blueberry Season!

Blueberry season comes at the end of the school year, just as the summer is beginning to really heat up. It's usually hot, humid, sunny and buggy. When we first moved to Florida, the whole family went berry picking together. We usually lasted about an hour before the group was tired out. But as the years went by and the kids grew up and moved away, I found myself going out alone. I actually prefer it this way because I just embrace the pure, drenching heat and can stay out for hours. And I can pick a lot of berries! I slather up with sunscreen, put on my hat and sunglasses, fill the water bottle, and settle in to work.

Most berry farms provide buckets, and the seasoned pickers tie the buckets to their waists with a rope so they can pick with both hands. With my bucket firmly attached, I head out into the rows. I like to walk to the back to get away from any groups of people because there is no sense bunching up together when there are so many rows of bushes to pick from. And I just enjoy being alone out there with my thoughts and my bucket.

The First Kerplunks

There are so many great sounds on a berry picking day. I just love the "thunk" sound of the first berries as they drop into the plastic bucket. The cicadas drone on in the background all day, making it sound even hotter. Blueberry season and the rainy season overlap, so you can often hear distant thunder, especially in the afternoon. I usually hear people talking from other rows. Children really love picking blueberries and you can tell from the excited sounds of their voices. You can also tell when they are tired and ready to go home. There are always sounds from the birds in the surrounding trees. Today I heard Cardinals, White Eyed Vireos, Great Crested Flycatchers, and a Yellow Billed Cuckoo. And this farm is near some cattle and donkeys and I could hear them heehawing today.

Cows in the Distance

There is some skill involved in blueberry picking. I only practice a few times a year, so I know I'm not as good as the professionals, but I look for big, plump, black/blue berries. A bush will have berries in all sorts of stages of development and you need to pick the ones you want without knocking off the unripe berries. I'm always on the lookout for a cluster of ripe berries because it is very satisfying to grab a whole handful. It's important to taste the berries as you go. Some bushes have much yummier berries than others. And eating a sun warmed blueberry right off of the bush is one of life's perfect pleasures.

Finding the Perfect Clusters

As I reach, I keep my eyes open for wasps because they like the sweet berries, too. There are also big leaf-footed bugs that buzz and surprise me sometimes. They don't bite but they suck juice out of the berries and ruin them (for me), so I try to stay away from the clusters where they are feeding. There are often fire ants on the pathways, and it's easy to step in them with so many distracting berries all around. There are usually opportunistic spiders that weave webs to catch the insects that feed on the fruit as it ripens and rots, and I try not to put my hand through their webs. And I always figure that there could be snakes in the bushes and grass, although I am less worried than interested. It seems to me that the most likely snakes would be harmless black racers and garter snakes.

Watch for Wasps

Leaf Footed Bug and its Berry

The blueberry rows almost always have blackberry bushes mixed in, and I always come home with some scratches from the thorns. And there are pretty wildflowers and vines all around. Today I was surprised by a large dragonfly carrying a Gulf Fritillary butterfly that it had caught for a meal. It sat near me and held on to its treasure while I snapped photos. Someday I hope to see turtles or otters in the river at the edge of the farm.

Blackberries and thorns

Meadowbeauty in the Grass

Mock Bishopweed

Eryngium

Dragonfly and its Treasure

Blackwater River on the Farm

After 2 1/2 hours of picking, my bucket was full and I was hot and tired. I picked almost 10 pounds of berries! They aren't cheap--I can buy them for less at the grocery store. But then I would miss the experience of picking, tasting, listening and sweating for my food. And I know where they came from and so I can recall the heat and breeze and buzz of cicadas when I'm eating fresh berries for breakfast, blueberry pies and muffins and again when I dig them out of the freezer. What a great way to start the summer!

Perfect Summer Day!

Lazy Summer Days

I guess I was lucky to be born when I was. It was a simpler time and a child in the 60's was still able to play outdoors and run free in ways that children just don't seem to do much any more. I grew up in a quiet neighborhood in Salt Lake City. It was not near streams, fields or ponds, but we had lots of trees and yards, a neat cemetery nearby and a vacant field in the middle of our block. I remember very clearly being so excited about all the playing I was going to be able to do on the first day of summer vacation one year that I was awake and out of the door at sunrise. On any summer day it was not at all unusual for me to grab breakfast, say 'bye to my family, and run out the door, not to be seen again until lunch, and then again at dusk. I wasn't allowed to stay out after it got dark, but otherwise I was free to run and play and explore to my heart's content. We played hard. I'd come home sweaty and dirty.

Young Robin in the Tree

We played elaborate imagination games wearing dress up clothes and using our yards for our homes and castles. We gathered groups of neighborhood kids and played "kick the can" and "hide and seek". The boundaries of the game could be blocks long. We rode our bikes and roller-skated up and down the streets. I can still remember the buzzy feeling in my feet as I rolled down the old, rough sidewalks on those metal wheels. I felt extremely cool wearing a skate key around my neck. We lived across the street from our elementary school and my friends and I spent many hours swinging and hanging on the tricky bars and climbing on the jungle gym. I learned how to ride a bike there.

The Boundaries of Our Imaginations. This is the gate of one of the houses where I lived as a child.

One summer, my best friend and her siblings started a butterfly collection and the other neighbor kids and I joined in.  I can't remember if their mom made the nets for us or if we bought them (I tend to think she made them because their mom was very creative and she was always coming up with fun activities for a houseful of kids--like making box kites with tissue paper and straws), but we all had our nets and set about decreasing the local population of butterflies. We had blocks of styrofoam, maybe from coolers, and we would catch our unlucky butterflies and moths, put them in the kill jar (a jar with a turpentine soaked rag), and then pin them on the board. I don't remember a whole lot about my collection, except that Mourning Cloak butterflies were quite common, so I had a lot of them. And I remember stretching out the pink wings of Sphinx moths from Tomato Hornworm caterpillars. My friend and her brother had the prized Tiger Swallowtails, but I never seemed to be able to see or catch one.

Tiger Swallowtail--the Prize of my Childhood.
Now that I live in Florida, I see them all the time, but they always seem special! And I still collect them, but in photos.

We also collected rocks. Utah has a lot of great rocks. And they are easy to come by. We got to know our granite and mica, obsidian and quartz. We collected river rocks and sandstone and iron pyrite. Sometimes we would take a trip to the Natural History Museum and ooh and ah over the amazing mineral collection there. One summer we went to a rock and gem show and spruced up our collections with fancy store-bought minerals and polished stones.

Sandstone with Lichen

One of my favorite memories is of one day when my friends and I walked the few blocks from our street to the old cemetery. We wandered around the tombstones and crypts and marveled at the dates. Some were so worn that you couldn't read them. Others made us sad because we could see the ages of the children who had died or the mother or young soldier who was gone too soon. We climbed trees and chased butterflies through the soft grass. At some point we were tired and sat down to rest. Lying in the grass and looking up at the birds in the trees, I was so content and comfortable. I could smell the summer smells and hear the sounds of birds and insects and it was so peaceful. I watched the shapes of the clouds roll by and savored the pleasant summer day. I draw on that memory now that I am older and busier and less carefree.

Historic Map of my Neighborhood. You can see the Cemetery at the Upper End. Lots of Room to Roam!

Some days we didn't feel like being outside and we'd play with toys, or read, color or watch TV. But soon the adults would tire of our noise and quarreling and would shoo us outside again. We might sit on the front step, rejected and bored--for 5 or 10 minutes. And then we'd figure out what to do--play hopscotch on the sidewalk or run through the sprinklers. We roamed the streets in a pack, like coyotes, running and yipping and teasing. I'm sure we were not always well behaved and I know we sometimes got into mischief. But it was pretty harmless. And even though we were running free, our parents all had a pretty good idea of where we were. It was a good way to dip our toes into independence.

Magpies in the Grass

In July, it was often too hot inside the house to sleep, so my parents let us invite our friends and we'd all sleep out in the back yard. It was safe, with a block wall and a gate and a faithful dog, and we would lay out our big, thick sleeping bags on the lawn and count the shooting stars and identify the constellations that we knew. I remember watching the Space Station fly by on its regular orbit one summer. We watched Night Hawks and Bats trolling for bugs under the Big Dipper and the Milky Way. Sometimes the smell of a Skunk would waft down from the foothills. We'd talk and giggle and soon we'd drift off to sleep. Occasionally thunder and sprinkling rain woke us up in the middle of the night and the sleep out ended in the living room. Good memories.

Howling at the Moon

I read a great blog today by Nature Educator, advocate and author, ("Last Child in the Woods--Saving our Children from Nature Deficit Disorder") Richard Louv . He has a list of 10 fun ways to get your children outside to play this summer, that you can read here. I'm especially fond of the Wonder Bowl--I guess I've always had one, but didn't have a good name for it! I'd love to see more parents who feel comfortable and safe enough to let their children play outside. I would love to see more parents dare to unschedule their children. I want to hear the sound of children as they laugh and yell and play in their yards, but sadly, it's not a sound I hear much. I am almost startled when I see children ride by on a scooter or play in the neighborhood creek without adults hovering over. It is just so unusual now. We've become fearful of letting children play outside because of our awareness of child predators and other dangers, and I understand that this is a genuine concern. Well meaning parents structure every minute of their child's day, worried that if they don't they won't be able to compete and get into good colleges. But I feel that parents have overreacted to these pressures, to the point where they don't let kids have a childhood. Couple this with our increasing addiction and dependence on electronic gadgets, and the result is that we are becoming detached from nature. We are generally more sedentary and less active and thus less healthy. I heard on the news this week that a third of the world's population is overweight now. But there's a better way. Playing outside helps children clear their brains. Letting them play freely boosts their creativity. Stepping away from the computer and the TV and moving around outside keeps them healthy and fit.  Playing and exploring in nature connects people with the earth and helps develop empathy for living things. I think parents would be advocates for playing outside if they understood what a difference it makes. As we move into summer vacation time, I remember my own childhood summers. These were good times, where I could be outdoors, creative and free. I wish this for every child.

Items for a Wonder Bowl

Listen to the Quiet

Rustling Cabbage Palms

I am always baffled when I pass someone on a trail, or camp next to someone who is listening to music or watching TV. I just don't understand it. I go into nature to get away from all the human static and immerse myself in earth noises. I want to tune out the buzz of the latest problems on the news and the catchy tunes and the talking and just listen. Listen to the wind rustling through the dead leaves of the cabbage palms and to the birds and the frogs. I want a quiet so profound that I can hear the sound of my heartbeat rushing through my ears. I just want to be able to hear my world. I don't want dead silence. Sometimes nature is loud like the bellowing of bull gators during mating season or the thrilling, honking noise of thousands of sandhill cranes flying overhead in their spring migration. I want to hear the scuttling of a beetle or a dragonfly crunching mosquitos in its jaws. I want to hear the chattering of baby birds in their nests and the barking of squirrels from the branches. It's rare to get more than just a moment of quiet in our busy world. There is usually the sound of an airplane or car somewhere. I live downtown and there are always traffic sounds. So it just doesn't make sense to me to go outside and bring my urban sounds with me.

Bull Gator Bellowing

Sandhill Cranes

A while ago I was walking through the dark woods of a local state park, looking for birds and butterflies and Jack in the Pulpit flowers, when I heard something in the distance. I wasn't sure what it was--deer, wild hogs--something large and noisy. But as the sound came closer, I realized that it was a couple walking for exercise through the woods with their radio turned on. They were listening to public radio and I don't recall if it was Weekend Edition or Car Talk. I like both shows, but not in that setting. I was irritated because they scared off all the wildlife for 10 minutes in all directions, and because I had to listen to their noise until they were too far away to hear any more. I also felt sad for them that they were missing so much by masking the forest behind a curtain of radio. It was as if they'd brought their living room with them into the woods. For me, this is the opposite of what I'm looking for when I go out.

Jack in the Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum)

One of my favorite sound memories was of a party at the home of one of my college professors. It's been so long that I have forgotten his name, but our class was on the art and culture of medieval Byzantium. And when we arrived at his townhouse, I was astounded to see the biggest record collection that I had ever seen. He had shelves of records on all the walls of his home. He estimated 40,000. CD's had just come out, and he had a huge pile of CDs on a table waiting to be opened and filed. After looking around for a while, I realized that there was no music playing. I jokingly asked him why, with so much to choose from, there was nothing playing. He looked at me and said, without a smile, "because no one is listening. Music is NOT wallpaper." It may seem a little (ok, a lot) extreme. But I respect his position. He wanted to listen, not to drown out something else. That's how I feel about the sounds outdoors.

Great Blue Skimmer Dragonfly, Hunting 

Early this spring I had my first encounter with a drone in the wild. I was starting my regular shift at the state park where I volunteer and I walked out on the trail to get an idea of what the conditions were. I saw a strange object flying in the distance. It seemed like a bird but the flight pattern was so strange that  I couldn't recognize it. Next I was hit with the small engine sound, somewhat like a weed whacker or mower. This is not a sound you expect or want in a park. Then I saw the men with the remote control and I realized that it was a drone. They had attached a video camera and were trying to get photos of feral hogs and alligators. I watched as gators scramble off of the banks to get away from the weird object, and the birds in the bushes were clearly disturbed. I was outraged at the intrusion. And then I had a vision of these horrible things flying overhead and delivering packages, or worse, dropping bombs. Eventually the men packed up their drone and left, but I was rattled.The sound still fills me with anger and dread. Is this the face of our future?

Green Tree Frog

Noise pollution is an increasing problem in our world. It is recognized by the EPA as a health hazard, leading to stress and decreased quality of life. Biologists studying the soundscape are concerned about how human sounds may alter the ability of organisms to communicate or otherwise function. We are quickly losing our world's nature sounds. It is harder and harder to find quiet places. One scientist is trying to collect recordings of our favorite nature sounds in a citizen scientist effort. This is a link to an interesting interview about the soundscape with Dr. Bryan Pijanowsky on NPR's Science Friday. He gives information on how you can download an app to send recordings of sounds to him for his Global Soundscape project. I think I'm going to participate. I have a lot of favorite sounds.

Hungry Baby Carolina Wrens

We use all of our senses to create a full picture of the world around us. Sound is an integral part of the whole nature experience. Noise pollution diminishes your ability to discern sounds.  Don't get me wrong--I love music. I am a huge fan and love most musical genres. But each thing in its place. And for me, nature is the place where I go to listen to the quiet. I don't use my iPod when I'm out on the trail, or even when I'm working in the yard. I don't want to miss hearing the first calls of the Mississippi Kites when they come back to our neighborhood in the spring. I love the sound of children laughing and playing outside. If I'd had been listening to music, I would have missed the astonishing buzz of a swarm of bees moving through the pine trees on my street last week. I need to hear the sound of slithering so I can follow the glass lizards in the leaves or the tree frogs barking warning me that it's going to rain. The raucous sound of bluejays and crows mobbing cues me to the presence of a Great Horned Owl. The warning rattle of an eastern diamondback rattlesnake saves my life on the hiking trail.

Great Horned Owl

Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake, Rattling

One of my favorite nature education activities is a listening game. I usually do this with children, but I think adults would enjoy it too. On a nature hike, after walking and exploring for a while, we stop and I tell the group that one of the best ways to appreciate nature is to listen. I tell them that when I say go, they will all close their eyes and keep them closed for a minute. They will be totally silent so they can hear. And then every time they hear a sound, they should hold up a finger. It is magical to watch their faces and fingers as they concentrate. You can feel the collective calming-- huge "ahhh"--while at the same time the excitement grows at the recognition of each sound. When they open their eyes it's as if they have just returned from a wonderful journey.

Mississippi Kite

So next time you're out, you should try it. Close your eyes and open your ears. Listen to the quiet. Your world will be so much bigger and richer.

Cypress Swamp Skies

Aprill Shoures

"If April Showers bring May Flowers, What do Mayflowers bring? Pilgrims!"

Ha ha! That's always been one of my favorites!

I have mentioned before that I was an English major in college. I was interested particularly in the history of English and medieval studies--the Anglo Saxons and the Vikings. Don't ask my why--it just seemed cool. One of the courses I took along the way was a semester-long reading of The Canterbury Tales in Middle English. My course was taught by a fabulous professor, Donald Rowe. He was gruff, demanding and could be intimidating. But I adored him. He was an expert in Middle English Literature. And when he talked about Chaucer, it was wonderful! That course was a memorable experience for me and I was disappointed when we reached the end of the book and the end of the semester. One of Professor Rowe's requirements for the class was that we had to memorize the first 18 lines of the Canterbury Tales and recite them for him in his office. We were graded on memorization as well as pronunciation, so we were expected to listen to tapes and practice. (I was amazed to find this version on youtube--what don't they have there? The phonetic translation is a little off, but the accent sounds just about like I remember.) I was proud that he complimented me on my pronunciation, though this was the first and only time that anyone said I had a good Middle English accent. He joked to the class and said that we might not remember anything else from his course, but 10 years in the future, we'd still be able to recite those first 18 lines. Well, it's been more like 20 years for me, and I can still do it. And, in fact, when April rolls around each year, those lines weave in and out of my consciousness as I recall elements of the poetry. This April is nearly over, and seeing that it is Earth Day today, I feel that I need to honor the insistent memory of April, the Canterbury Tales, and Professor Rowe.

(These lines are from my textbook, edited, translated and annotated by Robert A. Pratt)

Here bygynneth the

      book of the 

tales of Canterbury

Whan that Aprill with his shores soote                      soote: sweet
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in switch licour                  veyne: vein, sap vessel. switch: such. licour: sap
Of which vertu engendered is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth               Zephirus: the west wind. eek: also
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth                        inspired: breathed on , quickened. holt: wood
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne                 croppes: shoots
Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne,                     yronne: run
And smale foweles maken melodye,                        foweles: birds (pronounced "fools")
That slepen al the nyght with open eye
(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);                    priketh: spurs. hir:their. corages:hearts 
Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,                goon: go
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes           straunge: foreign. strondes: shores
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;              ferne: distant. halwes: shrines. kowthe: known
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond to Canterbury they wend,
The hooly blissful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen when that they were seeke.   hem: them. holpen: helped. seeke: sick

Roughly translated by me, this says that when April's sweet showers end the drought of March and fill the veins of the trees and plants with flowing sap, giving us flowers, and when the west wind breathes life into tender shoots, and when the year is just coming to life again in the spring, and the small birds sing and stay awake through the night because Nature has struck them lovesick, then this is the time that the people want to head out on pilgrimages, seeking meaning and cures at the holy shrines.

For me, April is the time that I see signs of those first lines everywhere. The "shores soote" came again just last week and "bathed every veyne in swich licour".

April Showers--Raindrops on Redbud leaves

"Of which vertu engendered is the flour".

Bring May Flowers--Sweetshrub (Calycanthus floridus)

And I see signs of Zephirus's "sweete breeth" in the "tendre croppes" in the yard as the new plants come to life and grow. Especially some of the plants that send up thick shoots, like the Coralbean.

Tendre croppes--Sprout from Coralbean (Erythrina herbaceae)

But the part I think of most often is the "smale foweles maken melody" because I wake happily each morning to a "small fool" Carolina Wren calling "teakettle, teakettle, teakettle" next to our bedroom window.

Smale foweles--A Baby Carolina Wren cheeps in the bushes all day long!

And often I will wake to the sound of Mockingbirds and toads calling through the night. Nature hath "priketh hem in hir corages", all right! Nature pricks all our hearts at this time of year. There is new life all around--flowers, caterpillars, spiders, tadpoles, armadillos, grebes and even horses.

Brand new batch of Pipevine Swallowtail Caterpillars

Spiderlings on Lyre-leaf Sage

Great Big Tadpole

Baby Armadillo exploring

Pied Billed Grebe and Chicks

Baby Horses and their mothers, nursing

We all feel joyful and full of life in the spring. And now is the time to start new adventures and growth. Here's to Spring! Happy Earth Day, Pilgrims!

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.