Surrender

This kept calling until I surrendered
These kept calling until I shared my morning coffee with them.

 Morning through bedroom window

Tree and sun say, “Come.

Be present in reflection.”

I enjoy my back yard often looking at the migrating birds, but only occasionally do I go out and be present to it. Mowing the lawn or pulling weeds out from between patio stones represent the lion’s share of my back yard activity. I promised myself to get out there and enjoy.

The above sugar maple tree is now the best tree in the yard. It seems to be recovering nicely from the ice storm damage and happy to be out from under the ash.

After an early treadmill and tai chi session I made coffee and a usual light breakfast. I forgot about the back yard, but the autumn-coloured maple and spectacular sky stubbornly appeared again reflected in our glass-topped breakfast nook table as I sat reading and sipping. I couldn’t resist this second beckoning.

Barefoot, I went down the deck stairs and set out a very old redwood chair on the cool, dewy lawn. We slowly lost a 40 foot white ash tree to the invasive Emerald Ash Borer. Sadly, we had the ash removed last fall. I sat on the space where the ash once stood, enjoying the lovely, eclectic gardens that Anita has created and nurtured since we moved here in 1985.

I finished Helen Oyeyemi’s wonderful book, The Opposite House, in that chair. This book has contributed much to my sense of interconnectedness. Having appreciated interconnectedness for a long time, this morning I felt it with profound emotion. I could even smell the remains of the tree beneath me – or at least the fungus that was gently consuming its roots. It said “I am not all gone, just changed, and you are not alone.”

A bee checked out my coffee mug on the arm of the chair. I relaxed, grateful, in its company. I swatted no mosquitoes and, surprisingly, they did not take advantage.

A Little More Macro

The two above photos were taken on a walk through “Our Woods.” Since I was part of a twosome and the only keen shutterbug in our faithful pair, I did not set up a tripod. Both of these shots were thus necessarily hand held and taken, purposefully, at f 2.8, the maximum aperture of my Tamron 90 mm macro lens. The camera was my Konica-Minolta Maxxum 5D DSLR, a dependable relic from around 2006. Focus was also manual since I wanted quick and interpretative control over subjects that were moving in the breeze. The speed was 1/400 sec – as fast as possible at 100 ISO.

I also took one of a small bee in a yellow flower, but that will be in a future post. Bees are endangered by various threats such as, many suspect, pesticides. The corporations that make pesticides are, sadly, not endangered. They thrive with the help of deep pockets, too many rights and unscrupulous legal hound-dogs. Apparently they can sue all of Europe simultaneously.

So this little bug got me thinking about the world – which is usually followed by compulsive writing…

DO Hug The Trees In This Park

Never noticed this sign in Our Woods before. We were in search of blue herons who we’ve observed for the last few days in the two small lakes NW of our house. Yesterday we saw one about 15 feet away with a 10″ trout or bass in its mouth. It just stood there. We wondered why it didn’t eat it straight away.

Possible heron hesitation explanations:

  • It was put off its food by our sudden passing
  • It was trying to decide whether food so close to human habitation was safe
  • It was shocked to find anything other than big carp in the water
  • It had babies but had forgotten where the nest was

Possible explanations for the above sign:

  • Too many baseballs ending up in the lake
  • Too many windows nearby
  • There is no place to use a bat properly in Our Woods
  • Some potential improper uses make the authorities nervous

Some suggestions for additions to the above sign:

  • Do not use bows and arrows in the park
  • Do not use catapults or land mines in the park
  • Definitely do not drag huge, heavy objects, such as self-standing basketball hoops, into the park

One might assume that the above  sign suggestions are silly and unnecessary, but the third one might have actually prevented a real event. This, of course, assumes that the neanderthals that dumped their trashy hoop apparatus in Our Woods were capable of reading.

One positive suggestion for a sign:

  • DO hug the trees in this park