The sky is growing very dark. It is a bit past noon on Friday. The long weekend looms ahead of me. I’ve got lists of arts events on my calendar, ones that I began skipping last night and will probably continue to skip through the weekend. I have no idea why, apart from the fact that I feel so content…since the broken foot, the forced recovery period, the slower Max walks, the stopping and looking at birds, the filling of the bird feeder, the moving out of clutter. The process has made me peaceful, but I’m not sleeping.
Today, Frank’s Flats looks like this.
Autumn is definitely moving in…my favourite season. I even delight in the chill of the air, the kind that leaves your nose dripping.
I think the papa osprey is pushing his kids out of the nest. (I just learned recently that the female leaves the nest experience first, so it must be papa who has been teaching the kids to fish). This morning, one of the kids (female) was crying on this side of the highway, from atop a pole…no sibs at the nest as I passed by, on the other side of the highway….no sibs fishing the neighbour hood pond. I think Dad’s saying, “Adios”. Now what’s a kid to do?
It’s an unbelievable thing that this family will begin an epic migration and that the monogamous couple will reunite again, barring any tragic events. This map illustrates known migration routes…so for those of you who grew weary of my amazement by these raptors this past season, know that these lives are miracles…one couple, three juveniles. I can only wish them well. It looks like they are heading for South America.
I’ve learned the voice of the osprey amid the huge number of voices in this one landscape. This morning, I heard the sad vocalization by this little lady and grabbed a shot from a huge distance away just to record the moment. I like that I turn my head at the sound of an osprey. I like this little place in the world. I was pleased to hear one of the youngster coyotes articulating this morning, although in the lush green of summer, they’ve managed to be very discreet and invisible. While I have not been a professional archivist and photographer, I have intimately grown to love my time behind the lens. If you wish to see some beautiful photos, likely of some of the same birds, look here. I particularly love the captures of the Night Heron and the Great Blue Heron.
For the past two weeks I’ve been given many opportunities and moments to observe the Great Blue Herons and it seems that this would be every where I would go, even a siting while visiting my dear friend out in Chestermere.
I thought that I was in amaze-butts-ville because one lone heron was hanging out at Frank’s Flats, that is until two days ago. I observed at least five in a marshland area that I could only catch from the highway. I’d have to do a hike down into that space, probably next year.
The truly remarkable thing is that in a single day, I saw hawks soaring and learning to fly, ducks, mergansers and coots running on water for their experiments in flying (circling the pond at low level as though they were playing) and then seeing them take flight, fourteen pelicans, flashing white black white black in a triangle overhead…and then finally, observing the spectacle of two great blue herons, dodging one another in the wind, flying…weaving…playing…skimming water…reaching up…I’d never seen anything like it. The camera just sat against my chest. I love moments when, in today’s archive-focused-world, the camera is put on the shelf because the world ‘is your oyster’.
I’m going to post the crazy bad photo that I DID take…because I wanted to have an image that said, September 3, this happened. “Two great and fragile giants with huge wing spans were given to me to watch and enjoy.”
September 3, 2015, I watched two herons in flight for approximately five minutes…dodging one another…staying in flight…a wonder!
It’s not that I know anything about totemic animals apart from the fact that a huge number of cultures listen to, speak to and are impacted by the creatures that share this planet with us…whether they fly or creep or roam or swim…but I do know that all of this and them, are grace…holy…
We have not taken very good care of any of this and these.
Whether in July, you notice and think about the Dragonflies that hover at your feet or in August you are looking at the Great Blue Herons, it all has a significance to your life, your heart and your mind. Nature has taught me much these past two months and I am filled with gratitude for her lessons. God is manifest and all is Holy.