Stones

Stone cairns that mark the trail up Arabia Mountain

I have piled stones
on top of one another
for years now
stones of habit
stones of comfort
stones of refuge
stones to settle my heart
stones to mark the days of my journey...

It's not uncommon to find stone cairns used as trail markers. These piles of stone help us find our way. They lead us somewhere and provide a tangible space to pause and recall. They offer a moment to get our bearings and seek direction. They hint for us to stop and listen for the whispering wind.

We may stand at a cairn and remember. We might dream or hope. Maybe we turn within to figure out the meaning behind this pile of stones. What does this place mean? What are its secrets? What are we meant to find here?

Tres leches

Today's science experiment

Something about baking, as opposed to cooking, makes it much less intimidating to me. And making cupcakes, well... they're just plain fun!

While out and about yesterday (truthfully, I was lost at the time) I stumbled across a little bake shop that had tres leches (Spanish for three milk) cupcakes as their special of the day. I'd always wanted to try this Latin American specialty, so I forked over the $5.00 for two of them.

They were yummy enough (addictive, honestly) that I decided to try making them myself today. I followed the recipe I found here and... oh my goodness, these are so delicious! According to my taste tester, they're even better than the ones I bought yesterday!

Tres leches is traditionally a cake, but it's so super rich that I almost think it's better suited to cupcake form... you know, just a couple bites. These aren't your traditional cupcakes, either, because if they're made right and drenched in milk, you'll want a spoon for all the sweet goodness at the bottom.

: )

Elf orpine

I know you're thinking, "Oh my God! What IS that? It's red!"

If so, you may be a plant geek like me.

; )

I had the very same reaction when I saw photos of it in my copy of Favorite Wildflower Walks in Georgia after it was gifted to me on my very first weekend here. I couldn't wait to see this unique little plant in person.

Elf Orpine or Small's Stonecrop (Diamorpha smallii) is a succulent that grows on granite outcrops in the Southeastern US.

We first went looking for it back in late September... it's a winter annual, so it was still dormant on that first try. The cool and moist weather of the Georgia "winter" allow it to germinate when conditions are most favorable for the seeds to survive.

The plants are getting ready, now, to shoot up and flower in the early Spring.

(I'm not too sure, yet, when Spring hits here, but I'm guessing they'll flower in mid-March.)

I can only imagine how hot the rock on Arabia Mountain must get in summertime. It makes sense for these plants to sprout, grow, flower and set seed before the summer furnace comes on, I'd guess.

Elf Orpine grows here in shallow depressions in the granite, in very little soil. It's part of a small community of specially adapted plants that grow in the hollows, in something like dish gardens on the rock surface. Fascinating and pretty spectacular to see when blooming, I bet.

Stay tuned.

Art seen

Photographed today along the BeltLine in Piedmont Park.  

Untold stories

There are a lot of stories I never got around to telling last year... these are just a couple to share...

Waiting for birds to appear on the CBC in January...

A very cold visit to the NJ Meadowlands in February...

Shadows of the March sun at the carousel in AP...

Walking the High Line with a childhood friend in April...

Lunch in Asheville on the way home from W. Va. in May...

Playing with reflections and a new lens on the boardwalk in June...

A couple hours on the beach in July with one of my favorite little people...

Playing tour guide for a flock-mate in August...

A September visit to California...

An October visit to Savannah...

My first (and last!) raw oyster in Apalachicola in November...

Exploring back country roads in December looking for birds...

I hope to be a better blogger in 2012...

One last kiss

Freckles 2001 - 11/18/2011

I had Freckles put to sleep this afternoon. I'd watched her fade and struggle for the last year or so... ten and a half years take their toll on a bunny even though she was always very healthy. She'd been unable to move around very much and in the last two weeks had begun to lose her balance and not be able to get herself upright once she tumbled over. She had a couple seizures, too, which was just too much for me to bear. A local vet suspected E. cuniculi based on her symptoms, so we treated her for that for a while, but there wasn't any improvement.

Anyway...

It's so hard to make that decision, but it was easy for her. She had an incredibly long life for a bunny and she knew nothing but love. She was the kissiest bunny I've ever known and was kissing me still this morning as we shared a couple last moments of love and comfort. This is my favorite photo of her from many moons ago.

 As pet owners, we are so fortunate, I think, to have the option of that final kindness for our pets.

1/365

New coffee pot, new camera, new life... why not a new photo project, too?!?

I'm trying out the 365 Days Project to take a photo a day for the next year. Sounds pretty easy for someone as camera addicted as me, right? I figure it'll be a sweet way to chronicle this first year in a new place. I also have a new camera - the new iPhone 4S - and it combined with Hipstamatic is the perfect toy!

I'm not sure how often I'll share pics from the project here, but considering the difficulty I'm having with writing regular posts to this blog, if nothing else, a photo a day will at least give me something to blog about. The truth is, I have plenty to blog about, but the difficulty lies in how much to share and what to keep close to my heart. I imagine I'll work that out with time and practice. For now it still feels like too much, as if too many people are reading over my shoulder...

Anyway, about the new coffee pot...

; )

The cheapo Mr. Coffee died yesterday when I was just desperate for a cup...

Coffee this way reminds me of my dad and of camping. I love the smell of it cooking on the stove. It's especially yummy this way, I think, but it takes forever to be ready. So today I snapped a pic while I waited.

Anyone else out there prefer perked coffee over drip-brewed? Any hints for getting the basket contraption out of the pot without burning my fingers or should I go to the garage for that camping tool?

: )

Right brain (fridge) poetry

I don't know the language, but that shouldn't stop me from playing, right?

; )

I'm sure one of the French grammarians around here will correct me...

I'm feeling inspired by this article... thanks for sending along the link Endment!

Mid-week cat fix

Everyone else is doing cat-blogging, so why can't I join in the silliness? 

; )

This is Belle. She's a pretty cat. She runs to sit in my lap at every opportunity. She kneads my soft belly with her claws. She looks at my bunnies like they're dangerous and might infect her with some terrible cuteness. Her breath smells like fish, usually.

How do cat people stand that?

I'm such a dog person by nature and by choice. I had cats as a kid and as an adult had taken to saying that cats were okay so long as they were other people's cats.

; )

There's a dog park down the street and I'm sort of haunting it in my pining for Luka and some doggy-love. I steal kisses from strange dogs I meet when out hiking. I'm developing a friendship with a lady who has four, hoping she'll let me borrow one from time to time. I carry biscuits in my pockets and am considering a career change to professional dog-walker.

Honestly, don't you think dog and cat people are wired differently, somehow?

Is there some book I can consult to help me understand the strange mincing about on tippy-toes they like to do first thing in the morning? Why the black one chooses to sleep curled up on the dark steps where I can easily trip on her? Why they invite me to pet their furry bellies and then attack my hand with teeth and claws? Why Belle stops mid-step and glares at me from across the room? Why they prowl around in the dark, yowling?

Parting glances

Atlanta's Centennial Olympic Park is ~the~ place to see confusing fall warblers... the trees are young and small so, in theory, you can see the birds easily, down low.

I've had parts of 14 species of warblers there in the last couple weeks:

Most all of this young Common Yellowthroat...

The water-tossed mantle of the Black-Throated Green in last week's post...

The pale supercilliums of many Tennessee Warblers...

The briefest of looks at the yellowish wing bars of a Chestnut-Sided Warbler...

The white "handkerchiefs" on a handsome Black-Throated Blue...

The indistinct dull olive of a young Blackpoll...

(You get the idea!)

Are warblers still passing thru where you are or is it winter already?

Bad bird photo of the week

Confusing fall warbler edition... happy guessing!

Up close with a Black and White

I spent a couple hours one morning last week at the Jekyll Island Banding Station; it's Georgia's oldest continually operated station. There's always a nice variety of birds and the folks who run the station, for a couple weeks each fall, are happy for visitors.

This particular warbler, a Black and White, was quite feisty!

And handsome, of course...

Note the "target" penned on the bander's finger... he says it gives the birds somewhere to aim their bites!

; )

Weekend bunny fix

Peeper has a cat.

(Two, actually.)

Both are mostly afraid of her.

(But they are not above drinking the water in her cage!)

Where the sea lends large

St. Simons Island is one of the coolest places to spend the low tide hours... the sea retreats almost a half mile and leaves in its place endless tidepools and sandbars for exploring...

There are joys in every moment. Some, like the Black Skimmers that fly past, hold a little tease and leave a wake of longing...

When I'm finished looking for seashells, there's always birds to entertain me...

like these Boat-tailed Grackles playing King of the (sand)Castle

: )

(I forget how noisy they are when I'm away from the coast for too long!)

Royal Terns are grown, but still begging from their parents.

(endlessly entertaining!)

A walk among the birds at low tide teaches me to measure happiness by nothing I can hold... nothing I can catch.

; )

I sneak close on my belly, camera in hand, for a better look at the spot of mustard on a Sandwich Tern's bill...

and squat low over the water with a Willet.

The beach is stretched out as far as it can go as I pause to consider a young Piping Plover feeding at the far end of a tidepool...

Can my imagination make this bird a familiar?

(Could be... though its banded companion was hatched in the Great Lakes area this past summer.)

I keep walking and exploring the quiet changes the outgoing tide has left; entire oceans are moved one inch at a time...

Olema

It is not drawn on any map; true places never are.  ~Herman Melville

We're off to the coast for a couple days; mostly for the required beach fix...

 I wonder if this can work out to be a monthly thing, maybe? 

: )

I'm sharing a pic from where we stayed on the outskirts of Point Reyes National Seashore last month... a quirky sort of place with hummingbirds and chickens and even a view of horses out the bedroom window...

: )

I'll be back with more from California.

6000 miles*

There were two days following behind a rental truck that had all my worldly belongings inside. Then a quick trip to the left coast (finally!) to dip my toes in that other (very cold!) ocean.

Baseball games, garden tours, marching band competitions...

(who'da guessed it?)

: )

I'm not settled quite yet; still there are boxes left to unpack.

We're figuring this out... this necessary blending together of disparate lives.

I'm loving the light that pours in the windows here in the afternoons; it lulls me into a nap with a cat beside me.

(A cat?)

(Two, actually.)

Right. Exactly.

; )

I have everywhere still to go.

*give or take a few detours for coffee.

: )

Sorry to have been away for so long...

My mother's cookie jar

My dad's health had declined so suddenly early in 2004 that he couldn't live alone any longer and my brothers and I were left scrambling to make arrangements for his care. We also had to figure out what to do with his house and all the stuff in it.

The short story is that we shared dad and cared for him as best we could amongst us while we set about cleaning out and selling his house. I don't remember how many 20-yard dumpsters we'd paid for, but still... my attic ended up filled with dad's books, mom's dresses and lots of assorted "stuff" from numerous generations of our family.

I never really dealt with any of that stuff properly. I'm awful about purging my own things, let alone all this sentimental crap... my dad's high school ring, a letter he wrote from France to my mom while they were engaged, her wedding dress preserved in a fancy cardboard box...

What am I to do with any of this?

Life has found me in a place now that I'm sorting through the collections of a childhood and a marriage: my lifetime so far. Some things are easy to keep and others... pfft! It seems impossible to do anything other than cart them around with me until sometime when I can think more clearly about their meaning and real merit in my future.

I've been washing and boxing up my mother's china and sorting through ridiculous amounts of bird-related-kitsch the last couple weeks. I've no idea what to do with the perfectly-preserved wedding dresses worn for two failed marriages, but...

(sad sigh)

This cookie jar, as awful-looking as it is... I know I want to keep it!

: )

Of course it would be meaningless to anyone else, but I remember it there on the counter above the breadbox in the house I grew up in. It's one remnant of my childhood... innocent of any guilty feelings and sense of obligation... I see it and think of Scooter Pies and Pecan Sandies.

: )

In the last couple years I'd used this as a treat jar for my bunnies... appropriate, no? It broke at some point recently and my sweet DexH glued it back together for me.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"My mom" is just an empty title to most people in my life. I have just one friend who remembers her, in fact. It's 30 years since she passed away when I was 11. I can look at pictures of her and still smell her perfumed hug or remember days at the beach as a kid. There is little in my life, now, to make her a real person. This ugly cookie jar was probably meaningless to her... an empty household piece that once belonged to the most important person in my life.

Despite my inclinations to the contrary, I still hold on tightly sometimes. I still think her stuff is as sacred as my memory of her.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I wonder what it is that you all have been carting around with you to remember the people that once loved you? A pink trunk full of tattered love letters? A collection of tools? That set of crystal hi-ball glasses you can't bear to part with, tho you don't even really know what a hi-ball is?

: )

Do tell, please. Lend me some comfort in my state of overwhelmedness.

Plover party

We had a little potluck party this evening to celebrate a successful nesting season for "our" Piping Plovers at Seven President's Park... there was beer and pizza and homegrown tomatoes with basil and mozarella and homemade wine...

We plover monitors had logged better than 1500 volunteer hours (75~ of them myself) and babysat 4 healthy chicks throughout the beach season.

Wow!

I didn't take very many people pix while out on the beach, but this random beach-goer typifies the amused sort of tolerance of our antics we've trained the public into...

Can't you just see him wondering what all the fuss is about?

Endangered birds... what birds? Where?

: )

Linda is a veteran at this... she and I spent many an evening together at opposite ends of the beach shepherding people away from the chicks.

Click and look closely for two tiny young chicks feeding at her feet!

Marie is another volunteer that I spent a lot of time with... study her posture... she was fierce with young surfers who didn't think they had to follow everyone else's rules on "their" beach...

I had to include this pic of a plover chick running across my beach towel, just because...

: )

Someone on FB linked to an article in just the last couple days that almost suggested that Piping Plovers might do better on very peopled beaches... I wonder if that might not be true...

Public education can be our greatest advantage if we leverage it properly...

Anyway...

The party tonight was fun, but I think we all left wondering what we'll do with ourselves all winter...

: )

Going, going, gone

The photos I took on 30 July will likely be the last of the baby Piping Plovers...

; (

All 4 babies and their dad were still at the beach on 4 August, but my camera battery was dead...

; (

That evening, while we watched, 3 of them took a very serious-looking flight straight out over the ocean. It was the first prolonged flight I'd witnessed and it looked to me like they meant to head straight for the Bahamas.

; )

They came back, but I've heard since that dad and two of the babies have left for points south. 2 chicks were still around as of yesterday... I hope to get back for a couple last shots, but...

Seven President's Park is the only place in Monmouth County, besides Sandy Hook, that had Piping Plovers this season... and the season was a huge success for our pair!

; )