I AM a walker, not a runner. I walk along the edge of a lake. I want to slow life down a bit if that is possible. I see the green reflection of the trees on the blue of the water, one dependent on the other.
I seek this day to be out in nature. I wish to spend some time away from the clock. I need to escape from things that demand much of me. I need to walk without purpose—without the necessity of doing much calculated thinking. I want to find a place away from the hollering billboards, the screaming headlines, the blaring TVs and radios and the roaring automobiles.
I have found a place to go to be quiet, but it is not a place of silence. For a moment, the music of life is clear. A tree sings to me. Is it the wind or just my imagination? Whatever it is, it speaks to something deep inside me. I stop and listen to the grasses whispering in the breeze. The leaves of the trees rustle slightly as an accompaniment. It seems as though the grasses and the trees whip themselves around until the wind blows.
As I walk, I hear the same sounds that walkers like me have been hearing for ages.
This walk is yet another great gift of nature. It offers me freedom from the incessant tail chasing that sometimes becomes my life. Putting one foot in front of another down this path softens the boundaries of my imagination.
The Hopis believe that their prayers keep this world spinning on its axis. I can’t help but believe that my quiet walk must do the same.
There is a magic to be found in a walk along the shores of this beautiful lake. I feel as though I belong in this place. A walk here allows me to forget the bad things in the world and forces me to remember the good things. And all I have to do is to listen.
Al Batt Naturalist/Writer/Storyteller Hartland, MN
LAST NIGHT, as the first pitch of the Oriole game was thrown, there was that all too familiar "thud" at the sliding glass door. A Hooded Warbler had tried to join me for the game. I went out to see the "belly-up" unbelievably beautiful bird and picked him up. I know this is against all the rules but the bird seemed to have gone on the big, one way migration. As I held the bird, I held total beauty. The bird stirred and stared..we made eye-to-eye contact and I knew this bird was going to be just fine. I put him on the corner of the porch and sat there with him until he took off...with a little list to port...into a tall Red Oak. There are no words to express how privileged I feel.
Jack Lewnes WindStar National Master Naturalist Port Republic, MD
THERE ARE kind, animal loving, folks who would never intentionally hurt a mouse. I happen to be beautifully and happily settled literally in the woods. I have lived in a generally serene condition here for 30 years. I have often said that I'd be happy to live here until I no longer need a place to live. But yesterday the damned mice...yes, the DAMNED mice...gave me a chunk of motivation. Where are my desperately needed friends, the Barred Owl and the beloved Black snake? Where have all the mouse eaters gone?
The deer have eaten all of my persimmon plantings. They camp in my back yard all summer to eat the apples. Do you ever hear me say, "Those damned deer?"
Yesterday, my lawn/garden tractor, which is less than two years old, just quit in the middle of the yard. My first thought was, "Hey, out of gas." Nope. Finally, I lifted the engine cover to find a mound of fiberglass insulation about the size of Farmer Jones' straw hat on top of the engine. (This "cute mouse nest" was built within a week.) So there was a pound or two of fiberglass insulation sucked into the engine.
I'm thinking this means very big bucks in repair cost, certainly three figures and probably four. So send me some mouse eaters, please.
Jack Lewnes WindStar National Master Naturalist Port Republic, MD
RECENTLY, I came across a childhood photograph of me leaning against a big old oak tree. My smile appeared to make up half the photo. With this image as my inspiration, I retire to the woods to do some serious sitting. I walk directly to the right place. I lean back against the same oak the camera caught those many years ago.
The oak is well anchored to this spot. I quickly discover that I am, too. This is a place to receive messages, a place to be quiet and reflect. A place to listen to myself. It pleases me to be here. I feel a sense of belonging. The incipient green around me is soothing to my eyes.
I watch the tiny warblers flitting about in the branches above me. They are passing through on their migration north. They are in a hurry, but at least for this afternoon, I am not. Like the birds, I, too, am just passing through.
I have been fortunate in finding the place where I ought to be this day. The warblers need to be somewhere else. I need to be here. I hear an eagle's cry. I look high above my comforting oak tree and see the large raptor travel across the sky. For once, I watch without a bit of envy. A smile fills my day.
APPLY a glob of liquid soap to a cotton ball. Cover the tick with the soap-soaked cotton ball and swab it for a few seconds (15-20); the tick will come out on it's own and be stuck to the cotton ball when you lift it away. This technique has worked every time I've used it (and that was frequently), and it's much less traumatic for the patient and easier for me. This is great, because it works in those places where it's sometimes difficult to get to with tweezers: between toes, in the middle of a head full of dark hair, etc. Unless someone is allergic to soap, I can't see that this would be damaging in any way. Everyone needs this helpful hint.
By Len Wells
FAIRFIELD, IL--Pam Blevins moved into a small apartment here a few months ago after losing her husband to Alzheimer's disease.
Soon afterward, her own health started to decline.
First, it was a growing weakness in her hands, then her legs. Doctors first thought she may have suffered a stroke, but the tests were negative.
After several rounds of tests at three area hospitals, doctors decided she likely had a form of muscular dystrophy. To say the least, the news was depressing. Her children are all raised and gone, and life in that small apartment started to close in on her.
But one sunny morning this spring, Blevins heard an unusual noise just outside her sun porch. It sounded like birds squawking, but she couldn't figure out where the sound was coming from.
She opened the door that leads out onto a small balcony where her gas grill sits, and the noise grew louder. Still, she couldn't find the source of the bird noise. Looking under the eves, she found no nests like barn swallows often build with wads of mud and tiny sticks, and still no evidence of where the sound was coming from.
Back inside, Blevins turned her TV on and settled in to watch another episode of "Judge Judy." The courtroom drama drowned out the sound of the birds.
A few days later, as the spring weather finally improved, Blevins decided she might fire up her gas grill and cook a hamburger for lunch.
"I decided I had better give it a good cleaning first," she said. "There's no telling the last time that thing was used." Armed with a spray bottle of cleaner and a brush, she lifted the grill lid and was shocked at what she saw. Instead of a blackened gas grill grate in need of a good scrubbing, there were five baby robins with their gaping mouths open wide, waiting for another meal. "I guess they thought I was going to feed them," she said. "I just closed the lid and watched for their mom to come back."
Mom did come back, and the in and out flights through the back vent hole of the grill have provided quite a bit of entertainment for Blevins. That is, until she heard firecrackers going off in the woods just west of her house. It was enough to startle her and her five new friends, the gas grill robins.
"I looked out, and there was a guy throwing firecrackers into the edge of the woods," she said. "I couldn't imagine what he was up to."
As the smoke settled, she figured out the man's target. It was a fox and three of its young. Scared half to death, they scurried out of the woods into her backyard, then disappeared into the woods off to the north. Eventually, the man left and the fox family returned unharmed.
Now, Blevins has even more entertainment. Every evening, just before dusk, the foxes come out of the woods into her backyard to play.
Between the gas grill robins and mother fox and her three babies, Blevins should have quite an entertaining Mother's Day.--Evansville Courier and Press
WHEN I TELL you that this bird is bright yellow, small, with blueish wings, I don't do it justice. There are a few birds that are immediately indentifiable. The Bald Eagle is one. Scarlet Tanager and Snowy Owl are others.
Well the Prothonotary Warbler (shown here in this photo by Arlene Ripley taken at the Battle Creek Cypress Swamp Sanctuary)is also one of those birds. It can not be mistaken for any other bird.The Prothonotary Warbler is connected to the pope...indirectly. The pope, as leader of a major religion and as head of a somewhat minor city-state, has notaries. These are the functionaries whose job it is to notarize the documents that are generated by the pope. There is a "head notary." His title is "Protonotary" and he wears a bright yellow cape.
And so....we have the Prothonotary Warbler! This bird is generally secretive and a cavity nester in wooded swamps. (I'm privledged to work in a wooded swamp, as you all know by now.)
This leads me to last Saturday. Our Nature Center held it's annual wildflower and herb sale and, as usual, there were many folks who were anxious to stock up on sage and When I tell you that this bird is a very bright yellow, small bird with blueish wings, I don't do it justice. There are a few birds that are immediately identifiable. The Bald Eagle is one. Scarlet Tanager and Snowy Owl are others. Well the Prothonotary Warbler is also one of those birds. It can not be mistaken for any other bird..
The focal point of the sale is right in front of the nature center where all the flats of plants are displayed on long folding tables. Many people, 50 or 60 at a time gathered around the tables. Got the picture?
I got there at 8:30 and Andy was beside himself...literally. A Prothonotary was calling right in front of everyone. He was in plain view. The secretive bird that lives in the swamp decided to show off in the parking lot! Gradually the cameras emerged from trunks and glove compartments. Cell phones summoned spotting scopes and binoculars and this blindingly yellow bird called and called. It is a loud call. I knew it before Saturday but I'll never forget it now! TSWEET TSWEET, TSWEET.
And the bird moved between two trees and called all day long. Hundreds of people that cared little about life-lists and such were fascinated by this boisterous little creature. There was no time when fingers were not pointed at this brilliant little bird.
The Prothonotary Warbler is our "signature bird" at the Battle Creek Nature Center/Cypress Swamp Sanctuary. It certainly did itself proud on Saturday.
Jack Lewnes WindStar National Master Naturalist Port Republic, MD
RECENT research suggests that many of the birds migrating to Britain and the European continent from Africa every spring, from Willow and Garden Warblers to Spotted Flycatchers and Common Cuckoos, are undergoing significant population declines.
The drop in numbers appears to be so sharp and so broad that the possibility is being considered that the whole system of bird migration between Africa and Europe may be in crisis. Each spring, millions of birds of nearly 50 species arrive in the UK from their African wintering grounds to breed, while perhaps as many as five billion arrive in Europe as a whole, before returning south in the fall. Many species make journeys of thousands of miles, including crossing the desolate Sahara Desert twice a year. Now, however, their numbers appear to be tumbling.
This problem has recently been outlined in a full statistical account put together by researchers seeking to understand what is happening and why. Figures in an unpublished survey produced by the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB) reveal some startling statistics about these plunging populations. Of the 36 British-African migrant species for which there is long-term population data (going back to 1967), 21 have declined significantly. Of these, 11 have suffered declines of more than 50 percent. Among this 50-percent-plus group, the Spotted Flycatcher, the Tree Pipit and the Turtle Dove (pictured) have suffered declines of 84, 83, and 82 percent respectively. For 42 migrants for which there are short-term population trends available (going back only to 1995), 23 have declined - 55 percent of the total. This includes a 30 percent decline for the Common Cuckoo, a 43 percent decline for the Pied Flycatcher, and a 60 percent decline for the Wood Warbler, in only a 13-year period.
No one knows for sure the reasons for these declines, but habitat loss in Africa and climate change are among the leading suspected causes. The problems may be along the birds’ migration routes, which are full of hazards just as they are in the Western Hemisphere or on the wintering grounds of the various species south of the Sahara. Whatever the case, the Afro-European bird migration system appears to be in a perilous situation.
Ornithologists from across Europe will meet in Germany this month to discuss both the vanishing migrants, and the possibility of setting up a network of research stations in Africa to investigate the situation. The meeting, which will be held at the Radolfzell Bird Observatory on Lake Constance, has been organized by two scientists, Volker Salewski from Radolfzell and Will Cresswell from the University of St. Andrews.
In the meantime, the RSPB and the British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) are shifting their attention from farmland birds, whose declines due to intensive agricultural practices have long been a major concern, and beginning to focus on the startling fall-off in migratory bird populations.
Paul J. Baicich National Wildlife Refuge Association Maryland
"AIR POLLUTION interferes with the ability of bees and other insects to follow the scent of flowers to their source, undermining the essential process of pollination, a study by three University of Virginia researchers suggests. Their findings may help unlock part of the mystery surrounding the current pollination crisis that is affecting a wide variety of crops. Scientists are seeking to determine why honeybees and bumblebees are dying off in the United States and in other countries, and the new study indicates that emissions from power plants and automobiles may play a part in the insects' demise. Scientists already knew that scent-bearing hydrocarbon molecules released by flowers can be destroyed when they come into contact with ozone and other pollutants. Environmental sciences professor Jose D. Fuentes at the University of Virginia--working with graduate students Quinn S. McFrederick and James C. Kathilankal--used a mathematical model to determine how flowers' scents travel with the wind and how quickly they come into contact with pollutants that can destroy them. They described their results in the March issue of the journal Atmospheric Environment."
JUST HAD to drop you a line after reading the article Backyard Wildlife Provides Drama (in WindStar Wildlife Garden Weekly) Sorry I don't agree with the author's portrayal of grackles. I find them fascinating to watch. (Boat-tailed Grackle) They are extremely clever birds, but I'm sure some find them to be a nuisance. Thank you also for Scott's article on the Rose-breasted Grosbeak. We used to get these sweet birds at our feeder until developers cut down over almost 100 acres nearby to build houses. In fact, most of the birds except robins, cardinals, grackles and Blue Jays, have disappeared. No more bats to eat the mosquitos at night. What a shame urban sprawl can do. Right now I have 4 robin families sharing my little lot ( 2/3 acre), which I have never seen before. That's OK, though, because when I see them getting fat on my poison-free lawn. We try to do our part by providing food, shelter, water and lots of native plants. Thanks for listening to me. I really enjoy your newsletters. Forgot to mention we are fortunate to have a Great Blue Heron rookery nearby. Those birds are awesome.
WindStar Wildlife Institute Thomas D. Patrick Founder & President
10072 Vista Court
Myersville, MD 21773
Phone: (301) 293-3351 Email Windstar
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About Windstar
WindStar Wildlife Institute is a national non-profit conservation organization established in 1986. WindStar is a leader in "connecting people to nature through education." In 1999 the Board of Directors decided to move the headquarters to an award-winning, passive solar and earth sheltered structure, Terra Vista, near Myersville, MD. And, a new, four-acre demonstration wildlife habitat, containing all the elements and key components, was created for members and others to visit and to get ideas for their own properties. Each year new habitat components are added. The Institute is known for its award-winning environmental education and certification programs, web site, American Wildlife Blog and outstanding use of nature photography.
