I felt inspired to get out to a sit spot, so I thought I might choose the same one that I have visited twice already. I asked Matt if he would go to his sit spot in the morning (this all happened yesterday- 5/3) and he said that he'd be out there at 7:30am. We chatted about triangulating the bird calls near our adjacent sit spots to see if we could determine some of the translations... and yes, birds DO have a language that we CAN understand if we learn it...
Anyways, I was out there from 7:45~8:30 and walked barefoot through the forest to get there... that in itself was invigorating and a GREAT way to start the day. I never saw Matt but figured he was there and that we'd catch up to talk about the stuff we heard.
I walked in the door of the apartment building to see Matt holding a paint can! Turns out he was working on the building and that he wasn't up there! I was "coyote'd" and was at my sit spot by myself. I was certainly not angry about Matt's "deception" because he really had work to do. I actually thanked him for it because it was the best way for me to start my day off. And the rest of the day was fabulous.
-Walked around the forest with bare feet and felt the earth on my soles (in my soul).
-New bird call.... like an engine starting up or a referee blowing a whistle slowly and then faster...
-A bird came zipping through the brush about 10 feet from me
-The growth is tremendous... in only one month it is like climbing through a jungle (literally) to get to my spot.
-I think I like my spot. And I should go back a little more often too :)
Showing posts with label Sit Spot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sit Spot. Show all posts
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
from 4/13- wild weather and sit spot
I've been struggling to find the time for a sit spot. As I get outside more, and kayaking, and working significantly more than in the winter, I find less time to commune with nature. In fact, this is precisely when I need to get out to a sit spot more. I am still intimidated, having moved recently, in finding a new one, lest it be anything less than ideal. BUT HAVING A SIT SPOT THAT ISN'T IDEAL IS BETTER THAN HAVING NO SIT SPOT! I write that in capital letters to remind myself to ditch the ego and the excuses and to simply get outside!
So, the opportunity arose last weekend. It was cold in the morning and by 10:30am, it was SNOWING. Though it didn't stick we feared that it would persist and the cold would linger, making our outing with 8-year-olds somewhat un-enjoyable and challenging. So we cancelled the day's outing. By noon, when the outing was going to start, the weather was still brisk, but sunny and blue skies... wild spring weather!
As such, I had a day with time on my hands that I wasn't expecting. I used the time well in getting my natural history files arranged perfectly (after years of disorganization). But it was an all-day affair. I said, "At two o'clock I am going outside regardless of how much work I have to do and no matter what the weather is." At 2:20, I was out the door and it was sunny. My work was strewn about the apartment like a tornado had come through, but I left anyways.
I found my spot (only my second time out there) and spent a LONG ten minutes sitting, wondering when 30 minutes would finally arrive. Eventually I got lost in the amazing-ness around me. An American Robin (Turdus migratorius) flying nearby that showed me a thing or two. The Western Grey Squirrel (Sciurus griseus) that had leaves in its mouth and accidentally tipped me off to where it lives! The insects flying about, the Western Hemlock (Tsuga heterophylla) protecting its root base from invading colony of native Sword Fern (Polystichum Munitum). At 35 minutes I peered at my watch and yearned to stay longer.
So I crept out slowly. In fact, being near a busy trail, I made a goal that no one should know I was there. Creepy according to society, but fun and challenging to the naturalist. My ruminations are written below, but the experience put me in the body and mind of a salamander, with their lateral undulatory locomotion, crawling close to the ground. I took 10 minutes to get back to the trail and made sure no predators were around to nab me!
I made the following three conclusions too:
-I observed oblivious runners (with headphones inserted) and gregarious walkers (whose loud talking and gross conversation might have overshadowed a cougar stalking and eventually attacking them) who were outside but not engaging with the outside.
-It's one thing to be a trail runner; it's another thing to run on trails. It's one thing to do an activity that takes place outside; it's another thing to BE outside. And it is possible to do both... but we often forget about the engagement piece. Spending time outside is not BEING outside.
-Doing an activity outdoors is empty unless we also spend the time to appreciate that outdoor place. What use is running through a forest without spending at least two minutes listening to the beautiful spring call of a Pacific Wren (Troglodytes pacificus)?
So, the opportunity arose last weekend. It was cold in the morning and by 10:30am, it was SNOWING. Though it didn't stick we feared that it would persist and the cold would linger, making our outing with 8-year-olds somewhat un-enjoyable and challenging. So we cancelled the day's outing. By noon, when the outing was going to start, the weather was still brisk, but sunny and blue skies... wild spring weather!
As such, I had a day with time on my hands that I wasn't expecting. I used the time well in getting my natural history files arranged perfectly (after years of disorganization). But it was an all-day affair. I said, "At two o'clock I am going outside regardless of how much work I have to do and no matter what the weather is." At 2:20, I was out the door and it was sunny. My work was strewn about the apartment like a tornado had come through, but I left anyways.
I found my spot (only my second time out there) and spent a LONG ten minutes sitting, wondering when 30 minutes would finally arrive. Eventually I got lost in the amazing-ness around me. An American Robin (Turdus migratorius) flying nearby that showed me a thing or two. The Western Grey Squirrel (Sciurus griseus) that had leaves in its mouth and accidentally tipped me off to where it lives! The insects flying about, the Western Hemlock (Tsuga heterophylla) protecting its root base from invading colony of native Sword Fern (Polystichum Munitum). At 35 minutes I peered at my watch and yearned to stay longer.
So I crept out slowly. In fact, being near a busy trail, I made a goal that no one should know I was there. Creepy according to society, but fun and challenging to the naturalist. My ruminations are written below, but the experience put me in the body and mind of a salamander, with their lateral undulatory locomotion, crawling close to the ground. I took 10 minutes to get back to the trail and made sure no predators were around to nab me!
I made the following three conclusions too:
-I observed oblivious runners (with headphones inserted) and gregarious walkers (whose loud talking and gross conversation might have overshadowed a cougar stalking and eventually attacking them) who were outside but not engaging with the outside.
-It's one thing to be a trail runner; it's another thing to run on trails. It's one thing to do an activity that takes place outside; it's another thing to BE outside. And it is possible to do both... but we often forget about the engagement piece. Spending time outside is not BEING outside.
-Doing an activity outdoors is empty unless we also spend the time to appreciate that outdoor place. What use is running through a forest without spending at least two minutes listening to the beautiful spring call of a Pacific Wren (Troglodytes pacificus)?
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Wow- long post (from yesterday)
Yesterday was incredible. Just an amazing experience in the natural world. After an morning inside on a gorgeous sunny day, I decided to go outside. Lo and behold, Nick and Kate arrived at that very minute. So we took to the woods and I showed them my sit spot!
A note about the sit spot... it should be a secret :) I should not have shown them where it was, but I will soon be moving away from this spot. Thus, I felt like it was a nice opportunity for me to show them the sit spot which has sustained me for the past couple months. So we explored my sit spot and it took them no time at all to wander around the area examining all sorts of things.
I am not sure what they got into, but I re-explored a hollowed out snag with super fine wood shavings inside. I was curious if the material was dry or wet and if it had changed much. It felt like soft powder sand as I rubbed it between my forefinger and thumb. Then I sat down to listen to the birds.
Suddenly I found a millipede crawling on my thigh. It was really cool but I couldn't lean down to analyze my thigh with my hand-lens... I'm not that flexible! Carefully I shifted the 29-legged critter (per side) to a leaf and then held it up so I could count all of those legs! Then it wriggled back under some foliage and I went exploring trees and mosses.
That adventure continued on for another hour. I have great friends and we really seized the day.
Nick joined me for adventure number two. It was in search for a pair of sunglasses that I lost on November 10th as some kids were chasing me into the forest at Arroyo Park. It was mission impossible. I had the feeling that the search would give me a peace of mind though I also embraced that the sunglasses were probably lost forever. Nick led the charge up a steep muddy, boggy thicket of thorny shrubs and downed limbs of Bigleaf Maple. Not the easiest approach. I told him I would go around the other way and found it be less muddy... sorry Nick!
Eventually we made it to the spot where I hid from the boys... we then worked back toward the trail from my approach. We had been searching for 10 minutes, making our way slowly downhill. We lifted leaf matter, decomposing forest elements, and moved things around to get a better look. I got down to scout underneath a log and Nick asked me if I had found anything yet. I looked up and saw my sunglasses on his head! Over three months later and they had been found!!
The rubber arm-ends and bits of the nose piece had been chewed by a small rodent. The lenses are probably done for. But the treasure was found! Nick found black sunglasses by noticing small bits of the frame undersides and the arms. It was actually covered by leaves! Nick's powers of observation are incredible. It became mission possible!
Adventure number three began on our walk back to the car when Nick mentioned Post Point. It is a small spit of land south of Fairhaven on Bellingham Bay. After enjoying four hours outside on arguably the prettiest day of the year so far, we reveled in two more during our walk along the coast. Highlights include sticking my head into a sandstone hole and talking... it was like being in my own world. The sounds amplified all around in the near-perfect half-spherical hole. And when Nick did it, I only heard the muffled murmurs of his voice. That was cool.
Then we got into the tide pools. Good tidepooling is never boring. While unfortunately crushing countless barnacles and other shelled creatures, and probably popping some anemones, we saw so much life. Barnacles, limpets, clams, mussels, sea anemones, and HUGE PURPLE SEA STARS! They were suctioned into the cracks of rock close to the shoreline. The water lapped against rocks and sprayed salty mist into those fissures but the sea stars remained still. They remained royal purple with white speckles and lines that made the legs really stand out. We counted over 15 in one small crevice and well over 35 in total. I hadn't seen those in years but they really put a smile on my face.
We picked up trash nearly all day and cleaned up this small bit of coastline too. I laughed at the coincidence when thinking about the story of the man who threw washed-up sea stars back into the ocean to save their lives. When told he couldn't make a difference, the man threw one into the ocean, looked at the naysayer and said, "Made a difference to that one." I picked up another empty beer can and congratulated myself for making a difference. We can all make a difference every single day!
The day ended with sunset, walking in and around a rock labyrinth next to the railroad tracks. The temperature dropped and my hands were numb as we headed back to the car. Six hours outside. Making a difference in the world. Aware and alive to embrace and appreciate nature. We all have this opportunity to some extent in our lives to do this. Thank you, Nick, for your influence on this day. You made a difference in my world.
A note about the sit spot... it should be a secret :) I should not have shown them where it was, but I will soon be moving away from this spot. Thus, I felt like it was a nice opportunity for me to show them the sit spot which has sustained me for the past couple months. So we explored my sit spot and it took them no time at all to wander around the area examining all sorts of things.
I am not sure what they got into, but I re-explored a hollowed out snag with super fine wood shavings inside. I was curious if the material was dry or wet and if it had changed much. It felt like soft powder sand as I rubbed it between my forefinger and thumb. Then I sat down to listen to the birds.
Suddenly I found a millipede crawling on my thigh. It was really cool but I couldn't lean down to analyze my thigh with my hand-lens... I'm not that flexible! Carefully I shifted the 29-legged critter (per side) to a leaf and then held it up so I could count all of those legs! Then it wriggled back under some foliage and I went exploring trees and mosses.
That adventure continued on for another hour. I have great friends and we really seized the day.
Nick joined me for adventure number two. It was in search for a pair of sunglasses that I lost on November 10th as some kids were chasing me into the forest at Arroyo Park. It was mission impossible. I had the feeling that the search would give me a peace of mind though I also embraced that the sunglasses were probably lost forever. Nick led the charge up a steep muddy, boggy thicket of thorny shrubs and downed limbs of Bigleaf Maple. Not the easiest approach. I told him I would go around the other way and found it be less muddy... sorry Nick!
Eventually we made it to the spot where I hid from the boys... we then worked back toward the trail from my approach. We had been searching for 10 minutes, making our way slowly downhill. We lifted leaf matter, decomposing forest elements, and moved things around to get a better look. I got down to scout underneath a log and Nick asked me if I had found anything yet. I looked up and saw my sunglasses on his head! Over three months later and they had been found!!
The rubber arm-ends and bits of the nose piece had been chewed by a small rodent. The lenses are probably done for. But the treasure was found! Nick found black sunglasses by noticing small bits of the frame undersides and the arms. It was actually covered by leaves! Nick's powers of observation are incredible. It became mission possible!
Adventure number three began on our walk back to the car when Nick mentioned Post Point. It is a small spit of land south of Fairhaven on Bellingham Bay. After enjoying four hours outside on arguably the prettiest day of the year so far, we reveled in two more during our walk along the coast. Highlights include sticking my head into a sandstone hole and talking... it was like being in my own world. The sounds amplified all around in the near-perfect half-spherical hole. And when Nick did it, I only heard the muffled murmurs of his voice. That was cool.
Then we got into the tide pools. Good tidepooling is never boring. While unfortunately crushing countless barnacles and other shelled creatures, and probably popping some anemones, we saw so much life. Barnacles, limpets, clams, mussels, sea anemones, and HUGE PURPLE SEA STARS! They were suctioned into the cracks of rock close to the shoreline. The water lapped against rocks and sprayed salty mist into those fissures but the sea stars remained still. They remained royal purple with white speckles and lines that made the legs really stand out. We counted over 15 in one small crevice and well over 35 in total. I hadn't seen those in years but they really put a smile on my face.
We picked up trash nearly all day and cleaned up this small bit of coastline too. I laughed at the coincidence when thinking about the story of the man who threw washed-up sea stars back into the ocean to save their lives. When told he couldn't make a difference, the man threw one into the ocean, looked at the naysayer and said, "Made a difference to that one." I picked up another empty beer can and congratulated myself for making a difference. We can all make a difference every single day!
The day ended with sunset, walking in and around a rock labyrinth next to the railroad tracks. The temperature dropped and my hands were numb as we headed back to the car. Six hours outside. Making a difference in the world. Aware and alive to embrace and appreciate nature. We all have this opportunity to some extent in our lives to do this. Thank you, Nick, for your influence on this day. You made a difference in my world.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Sounds of Silence
I was feeling "inside-y" today but finally forced myself out in the early evening for a sit. I felt the pussywillows again. My how they have grown in only three days. There is a little green leg sticking out of a couple of the bigger buds. Those must be the first shoots of spring.
When I finally got to my spot there was a little bit of light left. And There I sat for 32 minutes. The light got dimmer and dimmer as darkness enveloped the forest. My eyes' rod cells took over as the cone cells no longer remained useful; the greens and browns all faded into a grey-scale spectrum based on light and dark. I felt acutely observant to movement and sound. As the colors all but disappeared I found that I was extremely alert and prepared, though relaxed and calm.
I heard scratchings on trees or maybe in the fallen leaves. I heard wings flap overhead and head north. Even the distant freeway seemed to peter off once the night started. I heard occasional cars pulling into driveways and garages. I heard my own breath until I slowed it down to silence.
It is slightly scary going out into the dark forest to simply "be" knowing that there are predators like cougars and bears that share the same places. But it is empowering too, because I am building my comfort and confidence outside. By no means to be arrogant or foolhardy in putting myself at risk intentionally but to raise my awareness to the levels I hope it to one day reach. Gotta start somewhere. And I did :)
When I finally got to my spot there was a little bit of light left. And There I sat for 32 minutes. The light got dimmer and dimmer as darkness enveloped the forest. My eyes' rod cells took over as the cone cells no longer remained useful; the greens and browns all faded into a grey-scale spectrum based on light and dark. I felt acutely observant to movement and sound. As the colors all but disappeared I found that I was extremely alert and prepared, though relaxed and calm.
I heard scratchings on trees or maybe in the fallen leaves. I heard wings flap overhead and head north. Even the distant freeway seemed to peter off once the night started. I heard occasional cars pulling into driveways and garages. I heard my own breath until I slowed it down to silence.
It is slightly scary going out into the dark forest to simply "be" knowing that there are predators like cougars and bears that share the same places. But it is empowering too, because I am building my comfort and confidence outside. By no means to be arrogant or foolhardy in putting myself at risk intentionally but to raise my awareness to the levels I hope it to one day reach. Gotta start somewhere. And I did :)
Friday, February 15, 2013
First Hummingbird of the season!
Today, I saw my first hummingbird. Not sure about the species but as far as Bellingham goes, this is the first one I have seen this spring... and this must mean it is spring.
I was feeling the pussywillows that have been opening for two weeks now. I really like the fuzzy buds and the fuzzy shells that seemingly fall into my hand. Then I heard a buzz, I looked up, and lo and behold, a green hummingbird. Perhaps an Anna's. Most likely a Rufous. It usually is.
So many small but enjoyable occasions to celebrate at my sit spot. I shared the hummingbird experience that happened on my walk home from my sit spot. Also notable on the walk home was one moment I stopped and waited. A mentor once mentioned how it is important to stop. Scan 360 degrees from the ground to the sky and see what you see. I did. It got very quiet. The Song Sparrow that had just let me watch it from 15 feet for a couple minutes also stopped its rustling in the underbrush. So did the Western Towhee.
I heard my friend the Woodpecker thumping away somewhere very close to me. Staring into the sun made it difficult, and I couldn't see from where the thunderous drumming was occurring. Then i saw a Bald Eagle high in the sky. Then another came and circled around the other as they kettled upwards and onwards in the mid-day thermals...
When we stand still, we can be witness to multi-layer living, beauty, and play. There is so much amazingness in the world. For one minute I forced myself to stop and stay put, BREAKING MY OWN HABITS, and pushed myself beyond my schedule (and hope to get home to type this up before going away for the weekend.)
From the ground to the shrubs to the trees to the sky. There is so much life and I am responsible to ensure that it goes on, in perpetuity. I have to dedicate part of my schedule to stewarding the world and to enjoying its rich bounty. Not "resources" to use, but as a way to reintegrate myself into the natural fabric that exists.
At my spot: The Pacific Wren got within THREE feet of me and I watched it eating on the moss on a stump. Then it fluttered off. I was so still for those thirty seconds. Then I explored the moss on which it had paused. And I used my hand-lens. There was a small pink arachnid crawling about the underside of the bryophyte. I didn't correctly identify the green plant as a moss or a liverwort, but in hindsight, it seemed very liverworty!
Considering we studied them yesterday in lichens and moss class, I should have known more. But those tiny worlds are hard! I have more work to do in studying them.
The some Stellar's Jays were calling like Robins... Boy, are they good with their voices!
Gotta love when the sun comes out in February. Wishing you a nice President's Day weekend and Happy Spring... It really IS coming soon.
I was feeling the pussywillows that have been opening for two weeks now. I really like the fuzzy buds and the fuzzy shells that seemingly fall into my hand. Then I heard a buzz, I looked up, and lo and behold, a green hummingbird. Perhaps an Anna's. Most likely a Rufous. It usually is.
So many small but enjoyable occasions to celebrate at my sit spot. I shared the hummingbird experience that happened on my walk home from my sit spot. Also notable on the walk home was one moment I stopped and waited. A mentor once mentioned how it is important to stop. Scan 360 degrees from the ground to the sky and see what you see. I did. It got very quiet. The Song Sparrow that had just let me watch it from 15 feet for a couple minutes also stopped its rustling in the underbrush. So did the Western Towhee.
I heard my friend the Woodpecker thumping away somewhere very close to me. Staring into the sun made it difficult, and I couldn't see from where the thunderous drumming was occurring. Then i saw a Bald Eagle high in the sky. Then another came and circled around the other as they kettled upwards and onwards in the mid-day thermals...
When we stand still, we can be witness to multi-layer living, beauty, and play. There is so much amazingness in the world. For one minute I forced myself to stop and stay put, BREAKING MY OWN HABITS, and pushed myself beyond my schedule (and hope to get home to type this up before going away for the weekend.)
From the ground to the shrubs to the trees to the sky. There is so much life and I am responsible to ensure that it goes on, in perpetuity. I have to dedicate part of my schedule to stewarding the world and to enjoying its rich bounty. Not "resources" to use, but as a way to reintegrate myself into the natural fabric that exists.
At my spot: The Pacific Wren got within THREE feet of me and I watched it eating on the moss on a stump. Then it fluttered off. I was so still for those thirty seconds. Then I explored the moss on which it had paused. And I used my hand-lens. There was a small pink arachnid crawling about the underside of the bryophyte. I didn't correctly identify the green plant as a moss or a liverwort, but in hindsight, it seemed very liverworty!
Considering we studied them yesterday in lichens and moss class, I should have known more. But those tiny worlds are hard! I have more work to do in studying them.
The some Stellar's Jays were calling like Robins... Boy, are they good with their voices!
Gotta love when the sun comes out in February. Wishing you a nice President's Day weekend and Happy Spring... It really IS coming soon.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
California (January 31~February 4)
No real posting or sit spots, but highlights from this time include:
- Teaching about Sit Spots at a local conference called Storming the Sound, North.
- Having a short sit in La Conner as part of the workshop and considering the rain, Dark-eyed Juncos, and Pacific Wrens
- Hiking with Michelle in Torrey Pines State Beach and Natural Reserve. Getting up close to Red-tailed Hawks as they perches and during a fly-over.
- Seeing a Peregrine Falcon from the beach.
- Sandpipers
- Over 50 dolphins in various pods swimming north along the coast while we hiked the bluff. Great vista point.
- Lizards!
- Prickly-pear Cactus
- Sunshine and warm weather in winter!
- Coyotes yipping as dusk settled in Bommer Canyon. Despite the construction and development, they have not been displaced but rather stay healthy and active
- Coastal Sagebrush... mmmm!
- Teaching about Sit Spots at a local conference called Storming the Sound, North.
- Having a short sit in La Conner as part of the workshop and considering the rain, Dark-eyed Juncos, and Pacific Wrens
- Hiking with Michelle in Torrey Pines State Beach and Natural Reserve. Getting up close to Red-tailed Hawks as they perches and during a fly-over.
- Seeing a Peregrine Falcon from the beach.
- Sandpipers
- Over 50 dolphins in various pods swimming north along the coast while we hiked the bluff. Great vista point.
- Lizards!
- Prickly-pear Cactus
- Sunshine and warm weather in winter!
- Coyotes yipping as dusk settled in Bommer Canyon. Despite the construction and development, they have not been displaced but rather stay healthy and active
- Coastal Sagebrush... mmmm!
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Crisp but sunny afternoon sit
I crept into my Sit Spot from a new angle today. There were many people about so I quickly ducked off the trail and into a swampy watery thicket of thorny brambles. Don't worry, I wasn't too harmed... but I suspect that no one would want to follow me into the forest from the approach I took. Thus, it was perfect.
Upon arriving at my spot I immediately noticed the hair on the ground! It was definitely from a mammal. The questions came at me like a raging river, then some observations:
- What animal?
- How long ago?
- Was this a kill site?
- Did something bed down here and scratch the hair off itself?
- Why is there only white hair?
- What lives around here? Deer, coyote, cougar, bear, mouse, shrew...
- The hair is longer
- Are there any tracks?
- How did this animal approach this spot?
- Did I lead an animal here?
- Did I find an animal's sit spot?!
The quiet in the forest eventually soothed my brain chatter and questioning as I nodded off while leaning against my cedar tree. I found the strength to keep my eyes open for a bit and noticed new destruction at a "floating log." This was a tree that died and became a snag which eventually lost grip with the group and fell. It remains at an angle, however, because a different stump caught it's fall.
I explored the new wood chips and the newly created holes. Was this a bear? More likely to be the Hairy (or Downy) Woodpecker that I have so often seen in this patch of wood. Remember the Northern Flicker that has eluded me? Could be sign from her also. There was some dry material, leading me to believe that it happened very recently... even earlier today. Truth be told, I haven't been to my spot in three whole days, so I can't know exactly when this occurred.
I looked from different angles (using this word a lot in this post) and eventually found the perfect nest. A tucked away nook that is protected and seemingly dry. There was collected moss there and some bark and fine wood chips too. Is this the work of a rodent who nests in the nook or perhaps from one of the birds who frequents the area?
Then looked to another snag, also with recent work done. Tremendous amounts of debris was ripped out of the base on the snag, more than I remember seeing before. And from three different angles. I immediately thought this was the work of a black bear. I found a hole that I attribute to a possible claw. Being that these two sites are only 20 feet from one another was it the same critter? It's warmed up recently... could be a bear... deer hair near here too?
No conclusions for sure, but most likely not a bear. I want to go back to the second snag though and collect some of the very fine wood powder that still remains inside. I think it was dry... maybe it will make for good fire starter.
Upon arriving at my spot I immediately noticed the hair on the ground! It was definitely from a mammal. The questions came at me like a raging river, then some observations:
- What animal?
- How long ago?
- Was this a kill site?
- Did something bed down here and scratch the hair off itself?
- Why is there only white hair?
- What lives around here? Deer, coyote, cougar, bear, mouse, shrew...
- The hair is longer
- Are there any tracks?
- How did this animal approach this spot?
- Did I lead an animal here?
- Did I find an animal's sit spot?!
The quiet in the forest eventually soothed my brain chatter and questioning as I nodded off while leaning against my cedar tree. I found the strength to keep my eyes open for a bit and noticed new destruction at a "floating log." This was a tree that died and became a snag which eventually lost grip with the group and fell. It remains at an angle, however, because a different stump caught it's fall.
I explored the new wood chips and the newly created holes. Was this a bear? More likely to be the Hairy (or Downy) Woodpecker that I have so often seen in this patch of wood. Remember the Northern Flicker that has eluded me? Could be sign from her also. There was some dry material, leading me to believe that it happened very recently... even earlier today. Truth be told, I haven't been to my spot in three whole days, so I can't know exactly when this occurred.
I looked from different angles (using this word a lot in this post) and eventually found the perfect nest. A tucked away nook that is protected and seemingly dry. There was collected moss there and some bark and fine wood chips too. Is this the work of a rodent who nests in the nook or perhaps from one of the birds who frequents the area?
Then looked to another snag, also with recent work done. Tremendous amounts of debris was ripped out of the base on the snag, more than I remember seeing before. And from three different angles. I immediately thought this was the work of a black bear. I found a hole that I attribute to a possible claw. Being that these two sites are only 20 feet from one another was it the same critter? It's warmed up recently... could be a bear... deer hair near here too?
No conclusions for sure, but most likely not a bear. I want to go back to the second snag though and collect some of the very fine wood powder that still remains inside. I think it was dry... maybe it will make for good fire starter.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
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.
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