Long Sips of Water – Day 960

Catbird – Photo: L. Weikel

Long Sips of Water

I made a point this morning of making sure the birdbath in our yard was filled with fresh, cold water. While the feeders in our yard were visited only sporadically, the ol’ watering hole attracted more attention than it usually does. I have to admit it made me smile to see so many Goldfinches and Blue Jays luxuriating in taking long sips of water.

One thing I learned today? It’s a sure thing the songbirds are thirsty when they’re at the bird bath and don’t seem to pay a whit of attention to the Red-shouldered Hawk screeching in the field beside the house. (Which also makes me wonder: do hawks stay hydrated by eating plump songbirds? Yikes.)

Beyond taking risks that they rarely dare, it’s clear to me that our feathered friends are feeling the effects of the oppressive heat and humidity. I don’t know about you, but dogs and cats make their discomfort in the heat fairly obvious. Birds generally do not.

So it was a little creepy to see some finches and woodpeckers standing on the feeder posts with their beaks open. I assumed this was the closest thing to panting birds do. But it was unsettling. I kept wondering if maybe I’d just never paid close enough attention to my birds in the summer.

Goldfinches – Photo: L. Weikel

Worrisome News

Just as I was talking out loud to my birds (and grudgingly acknowledging the presence of the gray squirrels, red squirrels, and chippies), I came across this unsettling article. It seems birds are dying in record numbers in states all around us as well as further to the south, and scientists have yet to figure out what’s happening.

Sadly, the speculation is that it may either be a disease or perhaps the use of pesticides to kill off the Brood X Cicadas. The thought of that makes me want to scream in frustration. First of all, I cannot understand why anyone would be trying to kill the cicadas. There’s so much literature readily available on the nature of the cicadas and how they benefit virtually every part of the ecosystem.

Second of all, it’s bad enough that people want to kill these red-eyed whirring wonders simply because they’re noisy, or inconvenient, or ‘scary looking.’ But to do it with poison? When people know (or would know if they stopped for even half a second to think about it or read anything on the subject) that other animals eat cicadas? Do they really forget that there’s something called a food chain in healthy ecosystems? Is it really so hard to think beyond our own very personal, very self-centered

Moving Forward

I’m writing about this today not in an effort to shame those people who either don’t care about cicadas or actively dislike them enough to aggressively try to kill them, but rather to alert us all to the need to keep an eye on our birds.

There are some suggestions at the end of the article on what to do if you find a dead bird. Working together perhaps we can be a part of the solution to the crisis.

It seems we’re screwing things up pretty well via climate change. The least we can do is help our fellow creatures out by providing clean fresh water, especially in this searing heat, and taking care not to poison them. A low bar indeed.

Blue Jays are susceptible – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-151)

Today’s Solar Eclipse – Day 942

Today’s Solar Eclipse (as seen in Boston) – Photo: S. Weikel

Today’s Solar Eclipse

I can’t decide. Should I write a little more about the creature that was in my bedroom the other night and what it means when Moth shows up in your life? Or should I follow up on today’s solar eclipse?

Sadly, I did not get a good look at the eclipse this morning. But my son Sage did! He and Sarah got themselves to a beach, bright and early, near where they live in Boston. And wow – I just had to feature the photo he took with his iPhone. It’s spectacular! And Mother Nature very kindly provided them with just enough of a filter that they weren’t at risk of hurting their eyes, yet the eclipse could still be seen through the wispy clouds.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, although I didn’t witness the eclipse myself, I did contemplate it. (I looked out my bedroom window and couldn’t see anything. I will admit, semi-ashamedly, that I did not hop into my car and drive to my usual celestial viewing spot. I was sure, when I went to bed last night, it would be too overcast to see anything by morning. And while it sort of looked that way from my bedroom window, I have a feeling I succumbed to hasty decision-making.

Consolation Visit

While visiting my sweet Tohickon Creek is never a ‘consolation prize’ (although it is at once both a consolation and a prize – discuss*), I noticed what might be a metaphor for this eclipse.

I was sitting in my car with the windows down listening to the competing conversations of the rushing current of the Tohickon and the cacophony of cicadas in the deciduous trees lining the Tohickon’s banks. I won’t lie: it was heavenly. But as I sat there and wrote in my journal, contemplating the eclipse, I got a glimpse of a fascinating potential metaphor:

Tohickon Flowing at Capacity with Poison ‘in the Past’ – Photo: L. Weikel

The focus of my gaze was before me. The torrential rain from yesterday afternoon, and steadier rain into the evening, translated into a reasonably brisk flow of toward its destination, the Delaware River. The pace of the water passing before me wasn’t excessive, but it was powerful. And truly, it felt like it was reflecting the desire in my heart to move forward.

I feel motivated and excited to catch a rapid (and perhaps a little raucous) ride as the current moves downstream on this new moon. And then I shifted my perception to my rearview mirror and was astonished.

Wow. Sitting right there in plain view was a massive poison ivy plant in the midst of overtaking an entire tree. The tricky part is that the poison ivy is so prolific that it has become gargantuan. Its leaves and hairy vines are significant players, and I have to wonder how many fisher-people and tourists have come home with a nasty case of poison because they didn’t realize those leaves brushing their face from above were poison.

The Metaphor Was Clear

Leave it behind. Put the poison (no matter how big it is) that was revealed by the eclipse of the sun in the rearview mirror and don’t look back. Head downriver where the water runs clear and cool. Ride those currents and embrace the reflections of both blue skies and high white clouds.

This new moon was and is more powerful than most precisely because of the solar eclipse. May we all take advantage of it and sow the seeds of some seriously powerful dreams over the next several days. Dreams that will support and nurture us for the next twenty years or so.

Heading Toward the Future – Photo: L. Weikel

*Warning: Throwback SNL reference

(T-169)