Dawn

I got up in the dark this morning. I wanted to get to my sit spot before the birds woke up. I figured that was one way I could avoid troubling them and also get a chance to hear their morning chorus.

I made it swiftly and not altogether too clumsily (unlike this phrase!) to my spot using a more established trail that I have created. I know that I shouldn't go to my spot the same way, but this one was the best approach because it was dark and I still don't know the terrain as well as I'd like.

Sitting there I heard lovely morning calls from the Pacific Wren. Boy, were they loud this morning! There were also the songs from another type of bird that I don't yet know. and I even heard the Northern Flicker say a couple of words as well.

It was nice to get outside in the dark. It made dawn lovely and I established a connection with the natural world from the first moments of my day. How lovely!

Sit Spot reflection

This morning was interesting. I left the house and it was warmer than yesterday. So I wore a lighter array of clothing: wool sweater, two thin synthetic tops, long underwear and wool pants. Not my heavy jacket and not heavy gloves either.

Got to the spot and found that the birds were super loud. I spent the first ten minutes figuring out that they were so loud because of ME. It was my directional and focused intent that must have scared them into alarm for a lot longer than the norm… which is me sulking into the space, slowly and in a cumbersome fashion. Not so much like a predator.

After ten minutes it was nearly silent in the forest… the chorus of alarm from Pacific Wrens, Black-capped Chickadees, and even a lone Northern Flicker petered out. It was back to calm.

I am curious how long my disturbances last in the forest. Do walkers and mountain bikers get the same reactions from the birds? What about if there is a dog with them? Does my style of walking make a difference?

A Pacific Wren visited AGAIN today. I was dead still. It hopped within FIVE feet of me, which was awesome. It's almost like it didn't see me. And then it circumnavigated me as it hopped about under the downed sword ferns and through the barrage of grounded sticks which must have fallen from the western red cedar.

It must have noticed me there because it kept a five foot radius, for about 225 degrees around me. I kept so still. Used my Owl Eyes to listen and watch subtle movements. Then it disappeared- out of sight and out of sound range. I waited a couple of moments and then shifted my body around to a more comfortable position. BAD IDEA. It was there watching me and it started to alarm! I felt like I was being chided for my impatience. Just another reminder that I have a lot of work to do in practicing my stillness in the forest.

Back to minding my own business after I was berated by the smallest bird I've ever met. Suddenly I heard a light whisper of wings and then raindrops rushed onto my head as the cedar branch not five feet above my head delicately jiggled. I couldn't help myself. I knew it was a bird, but I so wanted to know if it was the Wren back for more observations of me.

Turned out to be a Chickadee and it immediately saw my head look up at it. Let's face it: No one likes to be stared at; not even birds. It too began to alarm and it flitted to another branch, dumping water on my head again! It was double punishment on me by these two little residents of the forest who want me to be more patient. My curiosity is a courageous trait and one for which I am super grateful. But boy, do I have some work to do on the patience front...

I wasn't sure about the loud "laughing sound" but I had the hint it was a Flicker. So, I left my spot and went to look for the sound- after all it had been making noise for nearly 20 minutes. But fate would have it that the open space where I had tracked the original sound was now silent. So I turned and headed for home.

Then I saw a black plastic bag on the ground. If there is one thing that irritates me it is dog owners who bag up their dog's feces and LEAVE IT THERE?! Why bother? It's almost worse, in my opinion to discard a plastic bag into the natural world instead of letting that stuff decompose. But Bellingham's dogs have more rights than its citizens (also SUPER irritating) and mountain bikers and hikers have an easy time looking the other way. Self-righteously, I picked up the bag and put it right into the middle of a thin wooden bridge that the mountain-bikers use to cross a small creek there.

Excuse the diatribe. My favorite part of the day was when I reached for the black bag and found scat ON TOP of the bag! It was delivered by, none other than, my friend Coyote. Stringy feces with hair and small bone fragments. ON TOP of another canine's poop. That's one way to mark the territory. Coyote makes me laugh because he is a dog indeed, but a clever one who is both pragmatic and artistic at the same time. What a GREAT place to leave a turd.. on top of an out-of-place plastic bag with a turd inside it!

It was such a great morning to be outdoors. Thirty-eight degrees and moist in the air. Not quite raining but thinking about it. I am pretty excited about that area. Every day I understand more and more about it.

First official post

This is my first official post on this blog. Though I have written other entries, I will start with this one.

As part of my nature connection work, it is important that I visit my (secret) sit spot everyday. Rain or shine. Evening and dawn and daytime. Though I don't expect to be able to do so every day, I will certainly try.

The other piece is to report my findings from the day. If I don't share my story then I may forgot what indeed I learned, observed or experienced. If others don't ask to hear my story, then any subtle nature connections that I may have developed will probably get lost. Please ask about my sit spot! It would mean a lot to me.

Notes from this morning:

I got up at dawn and made it to my spot, entering the thicket in one of my usual places. The birds were singing... I am not sure what birds they were but it was definitely their morning chorus. I am certain that I heard the Pacific Wren (Troglodytes pacificus) because it has over 100 different notes in it's song, apparently more than 36 notes per second! Incredible sound for such a tiny little brown bird!

Then one actually alarmed called as it got closer and closer to me. I turned to see it chirping in alarm and then it quickly flew off. And then I got up and left my sheltered spot to enjoy some morning drizzle on the walk home.