From American Coot to Yellow-rumped Warbler

I am so punchy I cannot spell or construct coherent sentences. I rose at about 3:40 a.m. yesterday in order to be at the Marsh Boardwalk in Point Pelee National Park with my birding pal Crystal by six in the morning. We were participating in a Big Day field course sponsored by Ojibway Nature Centre and led by Paul Pratt.

Here are my eBird checklists for the day:

Point Pelee NP–Marsh Boardwalk, Essex, CA-ON
May 5, 2012 6:00 AM – 7:00 AM
Protocol: Traveling
0.3 kilometer(s)
The day started out with a chill wind but was sunny and warm by the afternoon.  This checklist includes what we saw in the marshy habitat but not the species we saw around the parking lot, on the trail to the washrooms and on nearby woodland trails, etc.
16 species (+1 other taxa)

Canada Goose 4
Wood Duck 10
Mallard 2
Redhead 1 A single female Redhead was a great surprise to us all. I spotted it swimming all alone quite close to the observation tower and got Paul to confirm what it was.
Common Loon 1 flew over
Bald Eagle 1 One sub-adult was sitting in a very distant tree. Others in the party eventually saw an adult, as well.
Northern Harrier 1
Buteo sp. 1 possible young Broad-winged
Black Tern 2
Tree Swallow X
Barn Swallow X Some were nesting right under us as we passed over the boardwalk.
American Robin X
Cedar Waxwing 7
Common Yellowthroat 5
Swamp Sparrow 1
Red-winged Blackbird X
Common Grackle X

Others in the party had Black Tern here, as well.

Point Pelee NP–Northwest Beach, Essex, CA-ON
May 5, 2012 7:00 AM – 12:00 PM
Protocol: Traveling
3.0 kilometer(s)
This checklist accounts for our time as we walked away from Marsh Boardwalk around the washrooms, picnic pavilions, across to Northwest Beach, Sanctuary, etc. as well as a small section of the DeLaurier trail. This list does not include the four of five species others saw that I missed.
67 species

Greater Scaup 5
Surf Scoter 3
Red-breasted Merganser 2
Wild Turkey 2
Double-crested Cormorant 1
Turkey Vulture X
Killdeer 1
Spotted Sandpiper 2 At water’s edge, Northwest Beach
Ring-billed Gull X
Herring Gull X
Black Tern 8 Seen from Northwest Beach looking southward.
Forster’s Tern X
Mourning Dove 4
Red-headed Woodpecker 1
Red-bellied Woodpecker 1 heard
Downy Woodpecker 3
Least Flycatcher 2
Eastern Phoebe 2
Great Crested Flycatcher 2
Eastern Kingbird 8
Blue-headed Vireo 3
Warbling Vireo 4
Red-eyed Vireo 1
Blue Jay 2
American Crow 1
Tree Swallow 20
Barn Swallow 15
Carolina Wren 2 heard, none seen
House Wren 2
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher 3
Ruby-crowned Kinglet 8
Veery 1
American Robin X
Gray Catbird 3
Northern Mockingbird 1
Brown Thrasher 2 gathering nesting material at the beach
European Starling 5
Cedar Waxwing 10
Tennessee Warbler 2 Heard, sought and then seen.
Orange-crowned Warbler 1
Nashville Warbler 2
Common Yellowthroat 2
American Redstart 1
Cape May Warbler 3
Northern Parula 1
Magnolia Warbler 2
Blackburnian Warbler 1
Yellow Warbler 17
Chestnut-sided Warbler 2
Black-throated Blue Warbler 1
Palm Warbler 5
Yellow-rumped Warbler 15
Black-throated Green Warbler 1
Wilson’s Warbler 2
Eastern Towhee 1
Chipping Sparrow 20
Field Sparrow 1
Song Sparrow 1
White-throated Sparrow 4
White-crowned Sparrow 7
Northern Cardinal 1
Rose-breasted Grosbeak 5
Red-winged Blackbird X
Common Grackle 12
Brown-headed Cowbird 6
Orchard Oriole 3
Baltimore Oriole 14

Hillman Marsh Conservation Area, Essex, CA-ON
May 5, 2012 2:00 PM – 4:00 PM
Protocol: Traveling
1.0 kilometer(s)
Comments: This is checklist #4 of six that comprise the “Big Day” trip led by Paul Pratt. It was warm and sunny but still somewhat windy by this time. This list does not include the species seen by others in the party which I did not personally observe. Trip total for group was 120 species. We remained at the shorebird cell for the first hour or so and did not walk around it more than to the second lookout point. The second hour or so was spent at the wetland cell / marsh.
26 species (+1 other taxa)

Canada Goose 2
Mute Swan 1
Gadwall 30
American Wigeon 6
Mallard 2
Blue-winged Teal 1
Northern Shoveler 10
Green-winged Teal 8
Lesser Scaup 4
Great Blue Heron 1
Great Egret 10 Near the entrance, not at the shorebird cell.
Turkey Vulture 4
Northern Harrier 1
Sora 1 At the wetland cell on the far side from us, barely visible with the scopes but yellow bill could be seen.
American Coot 1 Very close to the Sora at the wetland cell.
Sandhill Crane 1 Seen circling and gaining altitude to the north of the wetland cell, across the highway.
Black-bellied Plover 20
American Golden-Plover 2
Lesser Yellowlegs X
Ruddy Turnstone 1
Dunlin 40
Long-billed Dowitcher 1 We devoted a long time to studying this bird, which was close to us. One party member had a very good shorebird guide. We had been leaning toward Short-billed. However, the bird responded rather dramatically to a recording of a LB while not responding at all to the sound of a SB. If it was short-billed, it has an identity crisis.
Bonaparte’s Gull 26
Ring-billed Gull 3
Herring Gull 5
Forster’s Tern 7
Mourning Dove 3

Wheatley–Harbor, Chatham-Kent, CA-ON
May 5, 2012 4:25 PM – 4:45 PM
Protocol: Stationary
7 species

Bonaparte’s Gull 30
Ring-billed Gull 10
Great Black-backed Gull 3
Northern Rough-winged Swallow 8
Purple Martin 5 Other party members had this bird at previous stops; I finally got it at this location.
Barn Swallow X
Cliff Swallow X

Wheatley–city limits, Chatham-Kent, CA-ON
May 5, 2012 5:00 PM – 5:45 PM
Protocol: Traveling
1.0 kilometer(s)
Comments: This checklist is for two stops very close together. One is right at the WELCOME TO WHEATLEY sign. We were looking from the roadside into private property on the west side of County Rd 1. The other stop was a short distance north of there at a horse ranch on the east side of the road. Sorry, by this time I was too tired to count everything…having risen at 3:40 a.m.
7 species

Red-tailed Hawk 2
Rock Pigeon 1 On a rooftop we passed while driving through Wheatley.
Eastern Bluebird 2
European Starling X
Savannah Sparrow 2
Northern Cardinal 1
Bobolink 5 These were at the city limits stop. They were in tall grass and only visible when they popped up briefly or flew in and out. Only five were seen but many more were probably present in the tall stuff.
Other party members had Eastern Meadowlark at this stop.

Leamington–Hwy 33 greenhouses drainage basin, Essex, CA-ON
May 5, 2012 6:00 PM – 6:20 PM
Protocol: Stationary
Comments: We stopped on our way home from the “Big Day” trip to check this tiny drainage puddle where avocets were seen last year. One of our party saw us with the scope set up and stopped to see what we were looking at. He was more skilled with shorebirds and helped with ID, but one bird remained a mystery. The Least Sandpiper put us over 120 for the day.
4 species (+1 other taxa)

Semipalmated Plover 1
Killdeer 1
Least Sandpiper 1
Dunlin 6
shorebird sp. 1

Besides being a wonderfully birdy day that ended with 120 bird species for the group, there was a butterfly bonanza! The lepidopterists in the group  got very worked up when they found Dainty Sulphur, Grey Hairstreak and Variegated Fritillary. They also showed us Buckeye, Mourning Cloak, Painted Lady, Red Admiral and a few different punctuation marks!

In the Bush

Stay tuned for an update. I am currently spending up to 12 hours a day in the bush, plus evenings after work. Bird, bird, bird!

Always Take the Harder One

My anxiety over today’s events had been mounting for a couple of days. I would be accompanying my class to an event at one banquet hall then returning just in time to meet two students and take them to a different venue for an awards ceremony. There were so many ways this could go wrong, my perfectionistic little mind couldn’t stop worrying about it.

For one, getting back to work on time hinged on Abdul being ready to go back in the wheelchair-accessible taxi with me when I asked him to be. He has a habit of doing things like disappearing, getting lost, or needing to use the washroom just as the taxi or bus pulls up.

Secondly, I had to trust that the literacy student had actually understood me when I asked him to meet me out front at 11:30. His class normally doesn’t convene till 12:30.

Next I had to hope I could find the afternoon venue using my printed out Google maps. I am notorious for getting lost. Very lost.

By last night I was a ball of tension, sure that I was going to show up at the awards banquet either late, missing a student, or both.  I practiced my speech introducing my two nominees anyway, timing myself to ensure I wasn’t being too long-winded.

This morning I received a text from Sylvain reminding me to “use The Course today.”

The Course? Oh, right. I am a student of The Course, as well as the world’s worst Buddhist. I pulled out one of the companion books that Olivia gave me and read the meditation for today. The passage emphasized that we cast blame and find fault with others (and situations, I might add) because we have not forgiven ourselves.

Right away I envisioned myself being late to the second event, or arriving without one of the students. Then I took a deep breath and forgave myself.

By the time I pulled into my on-street parking spot at 8:00, I was thinking that instead of picturing everything going wrong that could go wrong, why couldn’t I employ a bit of PRONOIA? As I crunched along the desire path that cuts through a vacant lot, I said aloud, “The entire universe is conspiring to shower me with blessings.”

On uttering those words, the world in front of my eyes changed. The colours changed, the quality of light changed. I realized it was true. I am in my own movie and I AM the director.

Abdul did not get lost. He used the washroom when he should have. The taxi showed up on time and arrived back at the agency with time to spare. The two students were ten minutes early meeting me. I had time to go get my car and come around to pick them up so they wouldn’t have to walk three blocks in the cold wind.

Thanks to my sweetheart, who noticed that my planned Google route would take me smack into an area under construction, I did not get lost or delayed. We were, in fact, early.

While we sat waiting for winners and teachers from other schools to arrive, I had a chance to chat with one of the students from my agency. She mentioned that she’s just managed to bring some family members over from her home country. She wondered if one of them might be able to join my class.

“He’s schizophrenic,” she said. She proceeded to describe his behaviour, and I asked her questions to determine if he could function in a classroom. He has habits that will, no doubt, be a distraction at times.

She said the school admin assistant had specifically mentioned mine as possibly a more suitable class for David* since it’s smaller. I smiled inwardly, remembering how the former teacher of this group used to joke acerbically about the make-up of her roster: one deaf guy, one stammerer, one scooter user, ….  ”Who are they going to send to my class next?” she would ask rhetorically.

I thought about how my group had reacted when I first told them about Carl and his special needs. They had assured me instantly that anyone would be welcome in our class. I am blessed to have students who not only call themselves Christians and Muslims, but walk the walk. They believe with all their hearts in the power of a mitzvah, to borrow a term from a third religious tradition.

I started to feel excited about sharing our safe space with David, and so I said to her, “Your xxxxx is very welcome to join my class.”

When the award recipients were introduced and the rules reviewed, I realized that our school had not followed all the criteria. One of our nominees was chosen simply because of how hard he works and the obstacles he is up against–like PTSD, never having been in school before, and probably learning disabilities. He actually cannot even speak English yet! He looked quite out of place among the students from other schools who are getting ready for university.  But instead of feeling embarrassed by the misunderstanding, I was secretly tickled at this accidental rebellion.

As I drove home after dropping the students off, a scene from a movie came back to me. Single quotes from movies almost never stay with me, but this one echoes in my mind at certain junctures.

When confronted with two paths, always take the harder one. (Norbou in Himalaya)

Classroom Update

Tom (Honorary Newfie) said he misses my posts about teaching.  I would love to write about that; thank you for reminding me.

I can’t tell you how wonderful my class is or how well they all work together. Each student has grown into a role within the group. Walter* is the bossy one who chastises anyone who is even a minute late arriving or returning from break.

Walter’s wife Ruth* is the only woman in the class and has taken Carl* (the literacy student) under her wing, filling in as his tutor when his buddy Jack hasn’t come to class. She is very protective of him–in fact the whole class is. If we are taking turns reading sections of an essay and it he gets a sentence with longer, more difficult words, everyone laughs at the irony and suggests, “let Ruth read that one and Carl can do the next one.” They pick out the shortest, easiest sentence for him, something like, “In the end, she got a good job.” Even with a sentence like that, he’ll need help. But they all are behind him in his struggle to learn phonics and sightwords and, eventually, to read. Ruth likes it when I give her a group of lower level learners to work with, which is very helpful to me in a multi-level classroom.

Anthony* used to always be 15 minutes late; he would saunter in with a large take-out coffee in his hand, smile his charming smile (complete with dimples) and say, “Oh, sorry, teacher.”  Each time he was late, Walter would lecture him about being punctual. Eventually the peer pressure began to have an effect and now Anthony is almost always on time if not early! Anthony makes us laugh, though he doesn’t mean to.  Of course we don’t want to make fun of him, but he is the one who tests everyone’s patience because he is always on a different page or doing something other than what has been asked of him, oblivious to the fact that he missed the instructions once again. I have taken to ending each class by asking, “Anthony, what is the homework assignment?”

Jack loves to talk and tends to get things off track if not corralled. His English is a confounding potpourri of nouns and verbs haphazardly strung together. He is the kind one who first begged me to bring Carl in from the class where he’d been languishing without progress for a couple of years or more.

Abdul is very generous. He always shares whatever he has brought for his lunch or snack–either a $1.49 packaged cake from the discount store or a couple of pieces of fruit. If he brings one banana for himself, he brings a second one to offer to me or to his buddy Matthew. His multiple disabilities mean I complete his worksheets for him as he dictates (mostly wrong) answers to me. His pride is easily injured. His role within the class is to remind everyone to look up and say “good morning” and wait for a response before sitting down or reading the paper or anything else. He is the courtesy and hospitality police, you might say.

Matthew is very quiet. He works extremely hard, asks lots of good questions, never fails to do his homework, attends another school in the afternoon, and sometimes loses hope that he will ever find employment in Canada. He has a grade four education and has worked in his native land as a security guard, ruby miner, and truck driver. His speaking and writing is what I’ve described before as “word salad.”

Our two new students are Mr. Farquhar* and Mr. Lee*. The former was a banker who loves to regale the class with anecdotes, stories, jokes and riddles. I suspect the only reason he sought out the class is so he would have an audience for his stories.  Mr. Lee is even quieter than Matthew; I took an immediate liking to him. He was a high school math teacher in his homeland. He–like all his compatriots of his generation–studies like his life depended on it, never fails to complete an assignment, and constantly looks up words in his electronic dictionary. He has a sweet if barely noticeable smile and enjoys cooking.

We are currently missing George* (business trip) and Alfred* (recovering from illness).

*************

Teaching is more fun than ever now that the students and I have five straight days together instead of three. I no longer feel as if I’m trying to cram content into a too-small package. We can do speaking, listening, reading and writing exercises on the same topic through the week. There is time for computer lab and time for games. I do think retention has already begun to improve.

Today was an exercise in classroom democracy. When we got the added two days, the students said that they wanted the same 2.5 hours of computer lab per week that other classes get. (We had been sharing the lab with another class each Tuesday and had to vacate at break time.)  The only other time the lab was available was Friday, which wasn’t an option when our class did not meet on Fridays.

So today I gave them four options on which to vote: a) no change  b) add another hour of lab every other Friday  c) add another hour of lab every Friday   d) cancel Tuesday lab and instead have a full 2.5 hours of lab on Friday.

After explaining the options, I opened the floor to anyone who wanted to put forward his/her preference and try to convince others to vote for it. That lasted until each student had had a chance to speak and rebut any challenges.

Finally I passed out the ballots and told the students to fold them over before passing them back to protect anonymity. During the break I tallied the votes. It was a landslide in favour of moving lab to Friday for 2.5 straight hours. This was also my preference, so I’m pleased with the outcome. The only problem will be accommodating the two devout Muslim students who don’t come to school on their Sabbath. I will probably offer to open the lab for them on Thursday during my lunch break.

***************

Today we played a fun game to practice using the present perfect simple tense. It’s called “Only I have….”  First each student writes three sentences beginning “I have” plus the past participle. The goal is to state something you have done that nobody else in the class has ever done. If you succeed, you get a point. I passed out red bingo markers as points.  After three rounds, only 3 of the students had three points. Matthew had a winning sentence with “I have mined rubies,” while Anthony’s “I have eaten on Bloor Street in Toronto” did not score a point because I have also eaten on Bloor Street.

It’s funny to see how excited adults can get over coming up to the prize table to pick out a new eraser, beverage insulator or other swag brought back from the last conference I attended.

learning to read nutrition labels

*not their real names

In the Woods with Nature Geeks

I do enjoy being in the woods with someone who knows the names of the trees and flowers around us. Yesterday thirteen other people and I tolerated the spitting rain to explore a couple of trails at Point Pelee and see what is migrating through, what has arrived and what is in bloom.

On entering the park, we checked the Great-horned Owl nest. Even though mama owl on the nest is a reliable sight this time of year, it’s still fun to stop and gaze at a corner of her sleeping face and ear tufts sticking up out of the dead tree trunk. A Belted Kingfisher swooped from tree to tree on the marsh side. Once my friend and I hooked up with the other twelve, including the trip leader, we started birding the parking lot. There we had Chipping and Savannah Sparrow, a life bird for my friend.

While waiting for the tram to begin its daily loops to the tip, we walked the Tilden Woods trail. Yellow-rumped Warblers and Ruby-crowned Kinglets were abundant, while Pine Warbler wasn’t too hard to find. Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers and Hermit Thrushes also made multiple appearances on our walk.

The Dutchmen’s Breeches are now in bloom and form a carpet in some spots. I noticed violets in bloom and learned the name of the bush that seemed to be flowerering and leafing out at the same time: Spicebush. Aha! Must be the plant that the Spicebush Swallowtail likes best!

Paul pointed out a polyphemus moth cocoon wrapped in dead leaves still hanging from an otherwise leafless bush.

When I had a sapsucker that nobody else had spotted yet and was asked to reveal its location, I said, “In the flaky tree.”  In the Shagbark Hickory, came the gentle correction. The next time I saw a sapsucker, I was able to say that it was in another Shagbark Hickory. I won’t forget that one.  I learned Ironwood and Chinquapin Oak, but I probably will forget how to recognize those until they are reinforced during a couple more trips through the woods. Actually, I will buy a field guide to the local trees at the Nature Nook next time. One fellow in our group added the latest caterpillar publication to his collection and was showing it off to all who cared to peek at it.

At 10:30 we jumped on the tram and were carried to the tip. Near the picnic pavilions at West Beach we got long, close looks at a Vesper Sparrow, my first!

Lunch at Paula’s Fish Place gave us a chance to go over the party checklist, a ritual whereby we tally up all species seen by all party members from the time they walked out their front doors that morning. For a complete list of what I saw and heard, you can look at my eBird checklist.  It is a much shorter list than the party list, though, since I only count what I got to see or hear, and I missed a few things while wiping the raindrops off my glasses.

I Should Have Been a Private Investigator

Birders keep lists. By definition that’s what makes one a birder as opposed to a birdwatcher. Many birders keep county lists, year lists, trip lists, and I don’t know what all.  Perhaps when I retire I will start keeping more lists. For now, I have only enough OCD juice for a life list.

At one time I kept my life list in a database that was installed on my desktop computer. I paid about $100 for the software in the 80s, but it was pretty state of the art for that time. I managed to carry that database over from one PC to the next once, but I did not bother to do so when I went from PC to laptop. For one, the installation disk was a floppy. To make a long story short, I ended up allowing my life list with all its careful notes about weather, start time, end time, etc. to go by the wayside. The two things I kept were my my Birder’s Journal coloring book, plus a few notes scribbled in the margins of my Peterson Field Guide for those species not in the coloring book, such as the tropical birds I saw while visiting Grand Cayman one year.

A few months ago I was introduced (by fellow Essex County bird nerd) to eBird, an online database where birders can log all their observations. Scientists can analyse these data to see migratory trends and so on. Not only are field ornithologists helping the scientists, but the database gives us birders a way to instantly access all kinds of reports, filter and sort the data any way we want, as well as check out what other ebirders are seeing anywhere in the world.

The first time I visited the site, I felt intimidated. But Dwayne insisted that it was a great tool for planning trips. Since I had to be as efficient as possible while visiting Olivia in the Pacific Northwest, I gave eBird another try just as a tool for viewing data.  Well, this time I sort of got the hang of it and decided to start entering my observations.

You’d think the story would end there, but no. When I noticed it was keeping track of how many birds I had on my “life list,” I was annoyed. The number reflected only the birds I’d entered since beginning to use eBird. It was only a fraction of my real life list.  You know where this is going, right?  I’ve decided to re-create my life list in eBird.

To do this, however, requires very precise information regarding when and where each bird was seen, including time of day. The folks at Cornell Lab of Ornithology, who created and manage eBird, would like to know how many of a given species were seen, how long that took , and other details that really help make the data meaningful to those analysing it.

Thankfully, I often did make thorough and complete notes in my coloring book. But I didn’t always. For those gaps, I’ve embarked on a mission to enlist the help of people who were with me on some of the excursions.

I’ve emailed an old friend to ask, “Did we really go to Ding Darling twice on that trip?”  To find email addresses for trip leaders, I’ve visited university faculty websites.  Emails begin with “You won’t remember me but…” and include questions like, ”Was that the Kitchener dump on Erb Street where we saw the Iceland Gull?”

Answers have begun trickling in.  ”Yes, I remember you, but I threw out those old party lists years ago.”  Another person didn’t remember me, but did remember which country road we were on when we saw the Rough-legged Hawk.

It’s been fantastic fun playing private detective in order to piece together what time I visited a particular habitat and found a given bird.  If my notes say, “an hour before dusk,” then I go to almanac.com to pull up historical tables of sunrise and sunset times for that area and date.  If my notes don’t specify which day during a month I saw the bird, but do say that I had to cut my trip short because of a violent storm, I look at weather archives for the area. If there was only one summer storm that month…bingo!

Today was the most fun yet.  Not yet having received an email response from the trip leader of a BIG DAY field trip during the Morro Bay Winter Bird Festival in January of 1999, I’m doing my best to reconstruct the order in which we hit each of several habitats from a day that began at 7:00 a.m. and ended at 4:00 p.m.  ”Big Day” trip means that the leader will attempt to get you to see as many species as possible in one day. I’ve pretty much pieced it all together by using Google Maps and a bit of common sense, with the exception of a stop at a marina to find Nelson’s Sharp-tailed Sparrow, which we found.  What I have to go on is that we had to wait for high tide to see this shy bird, as that is when the water forces the little guy up out of the pickleweed and into the brush where one can get a look at it.

After much searching and failing to find a site with archives that go back that far, I finally found a list of high and low tides for my exact location on January 16, 1999.

I seriously should have been a detective. I could do this stuff all day.

Crazy Grocery Cart Lady

Now you know what I do with my free time.

 

Grace in Small Things 194

  • Tazo chai in my Weekend Edition coffee mug
  • fresh clean laundry that comes out smelling like lavender
  • stretchy yoga pants
  • sunshine
  • solitude on Saturday morning

Dream: I Don’t Need My Purse

I was having one of my repeating dreams in which I am somewhere like on a trip or visiting some place and I suddenly realize I don’t have my wallet or purse. I am going to need it because I will have to buy snacks or food along the way. Everyone else is ready to proceed, but I have to now separate from the rest of the traveling group in order to go find where I left my purse. Now even within my own dreams, I have come to know myself well enough to feel apprehensive about setting off to find anything because I know full well that I am never able (in a dream) to re-find a position. I know if I go looking for the purse, I’ll get lost in my own dream and never get back to the same spot.  Then suddenly it dawns on me: hey, I don’t need a purse, this is MY dream! I can just TAKE whatever food I need!

JOURNAL – I am having more and more slightly lucid dreams lately. I take this to be another in a recent series of more positive dreams. I am beginning to take charge over my own dreams and put myself in control over the dreamscape. It isn’t a complete lucidity or control yet, but I seem to be taking things more and more in that direction.

I also have a very sketchy memory of a Kali dream. That’s the name I give all dreams in which a wise black woman appears. I haven’t had one of those in a very long time.

On a possibly connected note, something interesting is happening with my mood. My normal state is one of feeling happy–joyful even. But there is almost always–way in the background–a subtle undercurrent of slight anxiety or apprehension.  It’s not a feeling of impending doom, as if something major were about to happen, such as an earthquake or pandemic.  No, it’s more a sense that I’ve forgotten something like an appointment or promise I made someone.  It’s a vague sense that I am going to do something in the next days to embarrass myself or not live up to another’s expectations.  Maybe I won’t deliver a good lesson and my students will be disappointed.  Maybe I’ll forget to pay a bill on time and will incur a penalty.

For the past four days or so, however, it’s been the opposite.  I have a vague feeling running in the background that something good is about to happen. There is a feeling of excitement, like I feel when I get a crush on someone and then find out he likes me too.  I think this energy could be coming from the fact that spring is finally trying to take hold of the earth and the air and the fauna and flora.

Or it could also be a huge sense of relief that I am finally going to experience a change of some sort in my body.  I am very, very tired of carrying around a distended belly the size of a 21-week pregnancy. I’ve tried to be a real trooper about the size 14 pants and all, but really… I am quite tired of it all.  This new feeling of buoyancy is probably excitement over meeting the doctor who is going to help me.

Allopathic Journey

Things are about to change.

For eight to ten years, maybe longer, I’ve had uterine fibroids. My first plan of attack was entirely naturopathic, and I had some success with that. Dr. 1′s treatment included: a diet free of sugar, dairy, and gluten; a daily dose of chaste tree extract; and acupuncture.  I soon felt upon palpating my left inguinal area that my fibroid had shrunk from the size of an orange to that of a walnut. This could have been the placebo effect or it could have been the natural swelling and shrinking that comes with hormonal tides. I’ll never know because I moved away from my naturopathic physician and was not 100% faithful to the new diet she had prescribed.

While I don’t know whether the regimen would have kept my fibroids from growing, I was given a serendipitous gift. A side effect of the diet was the elimination of all my allergies and my life-long case of eczema.  Even during times when I’ve returned to my old eating habits, the allergies and dermatitis have not returned.

After moving to Windsor, my new GP referred me to an OBGYN for monitoring of my fibroid-laden uterus. At this point my uterus was the size of a 13-week pregnancy. The specialist and I did not get on well.  I asked my GP to refer me to someone else. He begged me to give Dr. 2 another chance, citing his impressively low infection rate after surgery.  I acquiesced and returned to the man whose bedside manner I did not like.  This time he recommended we cease the watchful waiting and take everything out: fallopian tubes, ovaries, uterus.  I asked some questions. Was it possible that the fibroids were growing very slowly and might not become a serious problem before I hit menopause? Yes, that was possible. It was also possible they would grow up toward my heart and be harder to extract later. I told him I’d think about it.

I thought about it.  The truth is that I don’t like tinkering with the body’s natural balances. I really don’t like the idea of having to go on HRT because of the potential side-effects, and I don’t like being without my ovaries because of the potential side-effects.

I didn’t go back to Dr. 2 and I stopped complying with his request for periodic ultrasounds.  My attitude was, “Why should I go through those when they just tell me what I already know?” That was two years ago.

About three or four months ago, I began to feel my fibroids growing again. This time they are pushing up under my ribs on the left side. I can’t even sit in a chair without leaning to one side just to relieve the feeling that someone is closing a vise on my rib cage. Another symptom that is worsening is how much blood I lose monthly and an inability to get my iron stores above the anemic zone.

After some procrastination and much loving nagging by my significant other, I have finally made another appointment with my GP for referral to a different OBGYN. This time I managed to be more assertive and came away with a handful of requisitions and the referral.

I am happy to report that (unlike Dr. 2) Dr. 3 has nothing but glowing reviews on Rate MD.  His patients rave about his compassion, stellar bedside manner, his never making patients feel rushed, his willingness to answer all questions slowly and clearly, his making each patient feel as if she is the only one in his caseload.

At this point I have no reservations about entering the world of allopathic care for this issue.  I’ll admit it feels weird. Other than a routine out-patient procedure or test or two, I’ve never been in a hospital as a patient. I have long entertained a fantasy in which I am a beneficiary of my great grandmother’s genome–she hadn’t set foot inside a hospital until a broken hip at 96.

Mindfulness practice seems to be making a big difference. I am viewing this as a journey to be set upon with curiosity and awe.

Happyluau Lingers

It’s been ages since I posted here. My days are so full! But I have time for a quick update.

The days following my stay with Olivia were spent trying to recreate my days with Olivia! I loved so much about her way of living, especially how spacious her house feels. She has everything, yet there is no clutter. Mostly, I fell in love with Trader Joe’s products. It’s much easier to eat right if you have a pantry stocked with healthful items. So Sylvain took me over to Grosse Pointe where I stocked up on things like dried green mango, tri-colour quinoa, frozen wild blueberries and black mission figs for my breakfast cereal.

Living at the Happyluau for a week also inspired me to clean out and organize all my cabinets and pantry. I wanted them to feel as airy and welcoming as hers! You can see pictures of her kitchen HERE. Doesn’t it look like it would be a delight to cook in that kitchen? And to think that I asked her before I left, “Do you have a rice cooker?” and “Do I need to bring my spices?” Ha, ha, ha.

What else has been keeping me away from the computer?

Amazingly, in spite of this being a year of budget cuts, some of the programs at the agency where I work have received funding for expansion. My class was one of them. Instead of teaching for three mornings per week, I’ll be teaching for five mornings per week beginning next month. It means more lesson planning, but I’m thrilled!

Another project that is taking up a lot of my time is that I’m retroactively building my birding life list in ebird (online database by Cornell’s Laboratory of Ornithology). I only need to document one sighting per species in order to be able to use ebird to keep my life list total and break it down by continent, etc. For most species I do have documentation of when and where I saw it, including time of day, weather that day, who witnessed it, etc. But for some species I have to dig a bit to remember exactly where and when I saw the bird. The other night I consulted with a member of my Ontario Breeding Bird Atlas team. He, unlike me, does not purge earthly belongings like a mad zen monk. And so he had records of the Bank Swallow colony–down to the exact latitude and longitude of the nesting site. As I sit here, I am surrounded by long strips of paper–reconstituted checklists from trips I’ve taken to south Texas, the Everglades, New Mexico, the central California coast, etc. Yes, I did see a Rhinocerous Auklet during a pelagic tour in 1999 and a Smooth-billed Ani in the Cayman Islands.

As if I weren’t already up to my ears in data entry, I volunteered to help with a massive data migration at work. That kept me downtown until almost eight tonight.

Oh, and then there are the long walks along the Ganatchio Trail after work. Sylvain and I went out two nights ago so I could show him the Northern Shovelers, Gadwall, Pied-billed Grebes and other interesting waterfowl on the stormwater pond not far from here.  The days are getting longer and it’s delicious to be able to spend so much time outdoors after work. I’ve already seen my first warbler (Yellow-rumped), as well as an Eastern Phoebe, Tree Swallows, pairs of Killdeer, Song Sparrows, and other harbingers of breeding season.

That will do it for now.  One must also sleep.

Botanist ex machina

Last night was fun. LoveHubbie was in charge of the barbecue while O did the side dishes; she and I had picked up the fresh King Salmon at the port earlier. After dinner we played Chicken Cha-Cha followed by Bananagrams.

Today Olivia and I played with her OH Cards, spent time talking and took a walk out to the mail box and back. I find birding here very challenging because many birds like to remain in the upper canopy, which is waaaaaaaaaay up there and out of my view. Trees back home just aren’t that tall. So I spend a lot of time listening to birds I cannot identify since I’m not yet familiar with the calls of the western species.

This afternoon O had an engagement just 2 miles away from a park I’d heard about, so she was nice enough to drop me off there while she went to her thing. For the next 2.5 hours I trekked through a drippy wet, glowing green wonderland. I am not a photographer and didn’t even have my cell phone camera, but you can see pictures of the park by going to this blog then scrolling down a bit. Gorgeous or what?

Before disappearing down into the ravine, I studied the trail map on a sign at the trailhead. YOU ARE HERE, it said. I studied the route I would take and determined that so long as I only made right-hand turns, I would follow the loop and re-emerge exactly where I entered.

The first 500 yards brought me face to face with a Brown Creeper and a Chestnut-backed Chickadee. Something that may have been a Red-bellied Sapsucker flew past. As I crossed a little bridge, a flower got my attention. I was staring at it and talking to it (Hey, what ARE you? You are beautiful!) when I spotted a jogger up the trail approaching quickly. I knew I would have to talk fast.

“Excuse me, do you know the name of that flower?”

“That’s Skunk Cabbage,” he said as he slowed and stopped.

“Oh, thank you!” I said.

Then he pointed to the ground saying, “That’s Waterleaf.”

The next thing I knew I was getting a lesson in all the surrounding flora courtesy of the handsome man in the red windbreaker.”Smell this,” he said as he passed me a leaf to crush between my fingers. It smelled lightly of anise.

“Sweet Cicely,” he told me.

“I brought my fern key from Ontario, but then realized it’s only good for the eastern region.”

All in one breath, he confirmed my earlier ID of Sword Fern, pointed out Licorice and Lady Fern and identified himself as a botanist.  :)

When my impromptu private botany tutor disappeared down the trail, I smiled to the heavens. Not only had a fern teacher appeared out of the mist, but it was a well above freezing for the first time all week, AND it stopped raining for a full hour of my hike.

The next fern I encountered was Deer Fern (I now know after consulting a book of Olivia’s). A Golden-crowned Kinglet let itself be seen as I passed under the tree in which it was looking for supper.

When I came back out to the spot where I thought I’d been dropped off, it didn’t look familiar. Uh oh. I studied the new map on that sign and that YOU ARE HERE arrow and tried to figure out what I’d done wrong. Oh, well. I was early and could hoof it back to where I was supposed to be. So I studied the map on the sign really carefully before disappearing back into the maze of trails and moss-draped skyscraper trees.  Overhead I saw an American Robin standing on a big branch of a broadleaf tree. Then another robin-sized bird flew up and joined it. Fortunately I had the good sense to check out the second bird carefully. It wasn’t a robin but a life bird for me: Varied Thrush!

When I emerged once more onto a highway, it again wasn’t the right trailhead. I was on the exact opposite side of the park from where Olivia would be expecting me any minute. I knew I could not reach the other side before dark.

With a little help from the disposable cell phone and A LOT of help from LoveHubbie, Olivia was able to find me.

Tomorrow LoveHubbie will again master the grill while I’ll be in charge of the side dishes. And who knows what the angels will send this time!

Eurasian Wigeon and Cacklers

If you would like to read about my stay at the HappyLuau from Olivia’s perspective, you can go here and here.

Being in the Pacific Northwest is an opportunity for me to see bird species I’ve never seen and will not have a chance to see again for a long time. So the obsessive birder in me could easily spend hours of every day trying to do just that. But this trip is for the purpose of deepening my friendship with Olivia.  My gracious host offered to drive me into Seattle for sightseeing, going up in the Space Needle and so forth. I said no, that I would rather take it slow and easy with only one big outing during the week and maybe two smaller outings, such as to local parks. The rest of the time we can talk, read, play games, cook together and just enjoy each other’s company.

Today was the BIG OUTING day, but unfortunately Olivia couldn’t come with me on the trails and boardwalks of Nisqually due to a recently incurred foot condition. We made the best of it, though. We decided she could drop me off and go hang out all morning enjoying the wi-fi at a nearby cafe.

When I struck out to explore some of the trails of Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge, I was very much hoping to add Cackling Goose to my life list. Anything else would be icing on the cake.

Thanks to the very kind members of the local Audubon chapter, who arrived about an hour after me, I got help figuring out how to access each of the trails I’d decided to bird. In the first three hours after daybreak, I got:

  • Canada Goose
  • Cackling Goose (lifer)
  • Northern Pintail (so close!)
  • American Wigeon
  • Mallard
  • Gadwall
  • Northern Shoveler
  • Green-winged Teal
  • Ring-necked Duck
  • Bufflehead
  • Hooded Merganser (So close! I never realized how small they are.)
  • Great Blue Heron
  • Northern Harrier
  • Red-tailed Hawk
  • American Coot
  • Killdeer
  • Ring-billed Gull
  • Glaucous-winged Gull
  • Mew Gull
  • Yellow-rumped Warbler (Audubon’s)
  • Steller’s Jay (flyover)
  • American/NW Crow
  • Violet-green Swallow (only my second time to see them)
  • Black-capped Chickadee
  • Bewick’s Wren
  • European Starling
  • Fox Sparrow
  • Song Sparrow
  • Dark-eyed Junco (Oregon Junco)
  • Western Meadowlark
  • Red-winged Blackbird
  • American Robin
  • Downy Woodpecker (heard)
  • Northern Shrike

The highlight of my walk, though, came when the Audubon birders were kind enough to call me over when they found the bird I’d said I was really hoping to see. I’d read online that a Eurasian Wigeon had been spotted there the day before, so I’d been checking all the American Wigeons in hopes of finding the one you can usually find after scanning a group of 400 or more.  There were only 40 to 50 wigeon dabbling around in the estuary that I could see, so I thought my chances were slim. But no. There it was quite close to the dike trail, allowing great views of its lovely copper-colored head. One nice gentleman put his scope on it and called me over for an even closer look. That life bird made my day!  I hope I was able to return the favor by telling them about a shrike I’d seen.

Before Olivia picked me up, I bought a Nisqually patch for my birding vest. Just as we were driving out of the parking lot, I spotted a Bald Eagle at the top of a tree, bringing my outing list to 36. It’s probably half the number the group had, but not bad for 3.5 hours over a small portion of the available trails.

Quiet Time

Last night there was time for one round of Bananagrams after supper. Yesterday was Trader Joe’s, a tour around Capitol Lake, harvesting kombucha. But now is quiet time. Olivia does her thing and I do mine.

I plan on taking a walk at dawn each morning. Yesterday I found Douglas Firs, Western Hemlock, and Western Sword Fern. With lichen and moss, I don’t know where to begin. The resident Spotted Towhee was jumping backward to scratch up breakfast in the garden, as was a Fox Sparrow.

Dawn has just broken and snow has been falling for about an hour. The evergreens are dusted in it. Fat flakes keep slowly drifting down past the windows as I sit here in the dark.

From Web Log to Life

My first encounter with Violet was through the Ratlist. A link to her blog was in the footer of her email, which prompted me to ask, “What’s a blog?” We later met in person and became friends. Oh, and I started a web log.

I sent out postcards to everyone in my address book–everyone from high school chums to first cousins, aunts, uncles and old friends. To my surprise, it was the wife of a distant cousin I’d never even met who actually went to the trouble to visit my web log and start following. Then she started her own blog! And in the summer of 2008, they extended a trip to the Minnesota area in order to swing through Windsor and meet us! My blog introduced me to my own cousin and his wife. How cool is that?!

Let me see… who else became a face-to-face friend through my blog? Katryn did because I met her when I asked her children if I could interview their dog for my NEW web log!

I met Elspeth of Now Is Wow and Now Is Wow Too when she visited Toronto from her home in Trinidad in 2007.

I’d been following littlerockdailyphoto, and Andrea had been commenting on my web log for a while when we got a chance to meet for coffee during my next trip to visit my mom. Now THEY are buddies and I still see her when I’m in Little Rock.

Guess what? It’s about to happen again. I’m going to meet in person someone I’ve known only through our blogs up till now. Can you guess who?

I’ll give you a hint. Or two.

She’s become a dear long-distance friend. We’ve been following each other’s blogs for well over five years. I’m traveling over 2,000 miles to meet her.

The Big Night

I enjoyed Oscars night this year more than any I can remember in a long time. It’s fun when we get every joke and movie reference because we’ve seen almost every single contender.

There were so many delightful films this year (Hugo, The Artist, Midnight in Paris, Beginners, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, The Muppets) as well as some powerful and moving ones (A Separation, The Tree of Life, The Help).

Sylvain always prints out one ballot sheet for each of us, and we mark them ahead of time. We line up some appropriately celebratory refreshments and I snuggle down in the rocking chair in his living room in front of the ridiculously large screen TV.

About 30 seconds before a winner is announced, one of us will ask the other, “Who did you choose for this one?” Then one of us will divulge a prediction, which is often followed by the other saying, “Me too!”

Through the whole evening we were either tied or one of us was ahead by only one point.

In the end I had correctly predicted 17 of the 24 winners, a personal best. Sylvain was only trailing by one guess. We both did better than many of the entertainment magazines and blogs, just so you know! (I say as I stick my right leg out through the slit in my dress.)

Did you watch the Academy Awards? What did you think?

Winter Birding and New Friends

After almost five years in Windsor, I have finally taken it upon myself to hook up with the local birding groups. I was a member of ASCA when I lived in Little Rock and have such fond memories of our trips. With them I saw my first (and only) Painted Bunting and braved a blinding blizzard in Pine Bluff for a glimpse of rare gulls passing through.

When I lived in Waterloo, I joined the KW Field Naturalists and learned all about the local birds, butterflies, dragonflies, native trees, wildflowers and mushrooms during wilderness walks. They’re the ones who roped me in to be a captain of a square for the five-year OBBA project–one of the best experiences of my life.

It was about two months ago that I finally figured out how to join up with a local birding group in this area. Between the Essex County Field Naturalists‘ outings and the Ojibway Nature Centre‘s birding field courses, I’ve managed to get out into the field with a group and experienced trip leader four or five times this winter.

Of course I’ve also been taking the scope down to the marina a couple of times a week since the waterfowl congregations started to get interesting at the beginning of winter. During one such visit, I struck up a conversation with a young woman who was scanning the waters with binoculars. The chemistry between us was good; conversation flowed easily. We had a mutual acquaintance or two in the birding community. When she mentioned that she doesn’t get out birding as often as she might like due to not being a car owner/driver, I offered my contact info and suggested we go out together sometime.

Since that day, C and I have gone on three field trips together.  Although I also like birding by myself, as C puts it, sometimes when you are in the field and spot something truly awesome, you just want to turn around and high-five someone.

Four weeks ago C had her first Long-eared Owl. During the next trip, she got Short-eared Owl while I saw Snow Buntings up close for the first time. Yesterday we both got life birds: Northern Shrike and Surf Scoter for her life list, Sandhill Crane for mine. It was nice having someone there when I whirled around for a high-five.

Although it takes a certain degree of insani…I mean obsession to be willing to bird in the middle of winter, I’m finding that I love every small ritual involved. I love checking the weather three times the night before, then laying out thermal underwear, Thinsulate socks, balaclava, magic hand-warmers and travel mug. I love rising while it’s still dark out to pack my bag with high-calorie snacks, field guide, notebook, harness and bins. I love eating a big bowl of hot porridge while watching the first pink light start to paint the eastern horizon.

An aspect of joining up with a group that I hadn’t anticipated has been the discovery of a series of birding spots I never would have found on my own, like the finger of land jutting out into the Detroit River on which Mona’s Place is located. (Sylvain and I will check it out for brunch soon.) I now know how to find Wheatley Harbour, the northeast corner of Hillman Marsh, and several owl hangouts.

Finally, I love is when it’s time to stop for a hot lunch in a local diner. That’s when the group gets out pencils and checklists to go over all the species seen during the entire outing. Sometimes the food is good, sometimes it’s not. But the company always is.

Better Digs for Ginger

The theme song from The Jeffersons comes to mind. “Movin’ on up to the east side to a deluxe apartment in the sky.”

Ma decided to spring for a heated house for Ginger, the old stray cat she’s been feeding for a couple of years now.  Although he’s more trusting now than ever, he still won’t let any of us get close enough to catch him. He won’t even come into the garage if we leave the door open for him, except maybe to quickly pass through and sniff a few things.

We’ve had lots of family discussions around the pros and cons of trying to catch him and take him to the vet for neutering, shots and so forth.  Once when he seemed to be under the weather, we talked about how easy it would be to trap him while he’s in the house we made for him last winter.

We decided that if we did that, he would never trust us again and definitely would never go inside the winter shelter again. Then he would be back out in the cold getting frostbitten ears like the winter before he found us. So we have decided not to try to trap him, at least until winter’s over. We have, however, been putting dewormer in his food every 3 months, which seems to have helped him fatten up a bit.

Anyway, Ma bought him a heated house. Sylvain decided it needed insulating and bought a bunch of really thick foam insulating board and special tape made just for insulation.  Then he commissioned me to come over and help him measure, cut and tape. We enveloped the little canvas house on the bottom, all four sides and the roof, carefully sealing all seams with the super sticky red tape.

On top of that we wrapped thick plastic sheeting to keep the rain out. We sealed that with the special tape, too.

We put the house on the deck not far from the other house, which is not on the deck but only a few feet away up under the cedar hedgerow. We positioned it so that the door faces the deck door because we think he feels safer when he can see us coming. It took WEEKS for him to discover it, but he finally has.

There’s no going back to the old house now! He’s figured out that as soon as he lies down on the fleecy floor of the house, the heat kicks on (it’s activated by weight on it).

stretching after dinner

more stretching

Happy kitty!

Grace in Small Things 193

The spotting scope is set up near the sliding glass balcony doors, just behind the old wood table laden with geraniums, African Violets and Swedish Ivy.

I walk over to peer through it from time to time. I can see a Hooded Merganser, a few Common Goldeneye, Ring-billed Gulls, Mallards and Common Mergansers from my vantage point. I decide to take the scope down to the marina for a more thorough survey after brunch.

The next time I look out, snow is falling so hard that I can’t see the building across the parking lot.

I decide to cook up a big pot of something for the week. Sylvain is nice enough to taxi me to the grocery store with his snow tires.

Any recipe with this instruction has to make you happy: Pour 1/4 cup olive oil in a large saucepan. Add the sage, rosemary and thyme and warm the oil over medium heat to infuse it with the flavor of the herbs, 3 to 4 minutes.

I look up from my cooking to see that the snow has stopped and the sun has come out. The wheeling gulls flash alabaster against the blue sky. The streets are framed by frosted tree-limb lace.

Grace in Small Things 192

  • peanut butter and raspberry jam sandwich
  • a lunchbox
  • a tankful of gas
  • friends who share secret birding spots
  • Horned Larks in fields where stubs of last year’s corn stalks poke up through the snow