Coveting Another's...

In the last few months I have discovered what covet truly means. As a good and faithful Sunday School attendee all my childhood and youth I knew it was one of the top ten. I found it a bit silly; no one could want what someone else has so badly the want will send them to Hell.

I grew up.

I have worked in a profession that is also my passion for 23 years.

Then my friend Dave quit his job and retreated to a cabin in the Rocky Mountains to edit the novel he had written on a previous sabbatical.

I covet his experience.

The introvert me covets the isolation.

The exhausted me covets the time.

The stressed-out me covets the escape.

Every time I encounter an unexpected situation; every time the stress begins to build, my mind asks, “where’s my cabin?” Coyotes, bears, and hailstorms be damned - they’re easier to deal with than people. I ponder the question, “what would happen if I loaded the car and left?”

The answer is immediate: the student loan people will still track me down.

The fantasy ends that quickly, but the coveting does not. I have been working in my house lately to build my own cabin. The garage (too small for a car, I don’t know what the builders were thinking) is becoming a workshop for handiwork crafts. My office finally has enough shelving that I do not have piles of books covering most of the floor, and as soon as I refinish the old wooden desk I have, I will have my personal reading and writing space. I do what I can with what I have.

None of this is far removed from society - I still hear the planes arriving and departing. There are no wild creatures - there are roommates. It is not the high altitudes of Colorado, but when my mind asks for a cabin, I’ll have an answer and maybe the coveting will move to wanting. I’ll plan a vacation accordingly.

Feed the Birds

My aunt and I were watching whatever cooking show happened to be on television at the time when my uncle called us to the door to see a blue-jay that had followed him under the carport and perched on his chair. By the time we made it over, the bird had jumped to a chair even closer to the door. I grabbed my phone and took a picture before it flew away. As it turns out, I did not need to rush. The bird is both a fan of cameras and people.

We all went outside and the bird kept coming back under the carport landing on the grill or hopping on the ground around us - eventually going up and pecking on my uncle’s shoe. My aunt handed me a piece of cookie to see it it would take it. Because the cat had come outside, the bird had flown up to the carport roof so I stepped near and held the cookie bit out and he immediately hopped to the edge nearest my fingers and tried to grab the cookie, but neither of us could reach far enough.

I stepped back, squatted down and he flew down beside me and immediately gently snatched the proffered cookie crumb. It would eat crumbs from my hand for a few minutes, then it would fly away and play in the sprinkler, catching a few bugs along the way, then it would return to eat some more cookie crumbs.  The pattern repeated itself for a couple hours. Finally, full of cookie and bugs it flew up into a tree to roost for the night as dusk settled.

While this was going on, the sounds of Julie Andrew’s perfect voice filled my head. “Feed the Birds” from Mary Poppins played on repeat through my mind as the bird came and went. The story of the old woman selling bags of crumbs for people to “feed the birds” is a lilting hymn from the Sherman brothers imploring people to care for the least of these - the old woman with her crumbs for sale and the birds.

I had always thought of the song as particularly sad every time I heard it over the years, but as I sat offering the bird crumb after crumb in the palm of my hand, joy, peace, and calm overtook me. Such unexpected interaction with a wild creature inspires the third of the essential prayers as described by Anne Lemott in her book, Help, Thanks, Wow: Wow! How do you not say, “Wow!” when a silver and blue wild bird chooses you as its afternoon companion.

Wow!

I left my aunt and uncle’s house long before dawn the next day, so I do not know if the bird remained on the same perch where I last saw it the night before. My relatives were planning what food would be best to put out to keep the bird around, though, as my aunt lamented, blue jays drove away her beautiful cardinals. A connection had been made and that matters more than anything else.

My aunt will keep me posted from time to time about the status of the bird - if indeed it stays around their house. Regardless of the bird’s future with the family, I know I will be reminded of the experience whenever I hear Julie Andrews hawking “tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.”

Remembering Spring

Late enough in fall that the tree had lost all its leaves, I noticed the bird's nest still perched securely in the limbs.

Where there was nothing spectacular about the nest in and of itself, it reminded me of spring and the energy that comes with the season. Though it was cool at the time of the photo, I looked around to see if there was any chance the fledglings that came from the nest were in the area. Of course they were not, but given our climate, I doubted they had gone too far - unless the cat that was trailing me had his way with them long ago.

I See You Seeing Me

While walking through my parent's property recently, I came across a game camera near a deer feeder along one of my regular walking trails. I could not resist, so I took a picture of the camera taking a picture of me.

 

I cannot wait for the hunter to come up on that picture! I have no idea who he is, but I want him to send me that picture when he comes across it.

 

I actually wish I had a game-cam next to his computer so I could capture HIS expression when he sees it.

 

After seeing some of the pictures from my brother's game-cam, I do know that many of the animals being photographed are well aware that something is going on in that clicking camouflaged box. Too many of them come up to it and lick it or stick their noses up for a good sniff. The hunter should not be too shocked then that a human would try something goofy.

 

Since the game-cams use a memory card. I should buy a discount one and fill it up with silly pictures around the city and replace it in his camera. He'd certainly wonder how the deer managed to do that grand excursion with his camera. (I'm laughing so hard at that idea that I fear I may get kicked out of the coffee shop - people are trying to study [or so they would have you believe by the annoyed glares in my direction].)

 

Spending a few hours in the deer blind made me remember how much I enjoy being out in the wild, seeing animals interacting with their natural environment. I need to build a cabin in the woods to escape the electronic world and enjoy a slower time now and again. The different pictures from my brother's own game-cam and the close-up encounters I had in the couple hours in the wild made me long again for that peaceful simplicity.

 

A game-cam I check (prank) from time to time would only fuel the desire to be in the woods more rather than quench it. Perhaps, I can find a way to have my place and the chance to be close to all the wildlife that abounds in the woods and play with the game camera at the same time. Time to put my imagination to work and see what I can figure out.

I Can't Drive 85

         The fastest highway (toll-road) in the United States opened recently a few miles from my house. With a posted speed limit of 85 MPH, it has the fastest allowed speed in the country. The contract for building the road included the enhanced speed limit which coincided with an enhanced toll rate.

During its initial days, they toll authority waived the fees for the road – kind of like a crack dealer gives the first few fixes free. Because it was free and I needed to go that way anyway, I decided to try it out.

I have always had a lead foot, but the reversion to the 70 MPH speed limit on most major highways quite satisfied my need to drive quickly. I had to set the cruise control to maintain 85 MPH on the stretch of road. I kept finding myself drifting back to the accustomed 70 MPH.

All I could think was, “Sammy Hagar would be so ashamed of me.”

The first night the highway was open, though, three cars crashed into wild hogs. Fortunately, no one was injured. Still, this highway runs through rural Texas. We have wild animals in abundance. In Caldwell County (where the wrecks happened), one can earn $2 for bringing in the tail of a wild hog because they do so much damage to crops they are considered a pest. Two dollars provides little solace to those who hit the hogs. Still, anyone who really wants to drive that fast in rural Texas without grill-guard can plan to fork out much more than $2 on the repairs they will likely have.

I had my fix of the accelerated speed limit, so I will stick to the parallel free highway. For $3 to cross six miles, 55 MPH proves quite satisfactory.

 

Deer Season - Photography

The weekend before deer hunting season's open, I staked myself  in my favorite deer blind to see what kind of wildlife was around following the drought and years since there was heavy hunting on the property. My first venture out into the pasture brought me up on the largest buck I had ever encountered on the land. Unfortunately, he startled too quickly upon my spying him for me to get a picture.

After being staked in the blind for just a few minutes, I began to see deer to the left and right of me. They were coming from everywhere, but none were remaining still enough, close enough for me to get any decent photographs. I willed them closer and closer, but none would obey my subconsicious directions.

Finally a young buck with just three points began to approach the stand. Seemingly fearless, he posed for many photos despite the camera's beeps and clicks. Had I carried a gun with me instead of a camera, I would be eating well today. Of course, I would much rather have the rack of the three other bucks I saw that evening, this one would have provided some tender, flavorful venison.

Just as the buck came along, a rabbit bounded by the stand. I attempted to snap pictures, but as with the earlier deer, it did not come stay still long enough to get a clear shot.

I could not help but think, "Bambi and Thumper - together again."

The scene did not last long as one of my parent's dogs came running out of the woods, but it did give me the opportunity to have some quiet time with the wildlife I grew up stalking with my bow, gun, and camera.

Water Death

While observing the life around the pond, I noticed too, how precious life was by the creatures that lost their life there.

Some moths landed too close to the water.

Some frogs come out of the water to land on fire ants and were soon devoured.

You cannot see the frog because so many ants are covering it. I had to poke it with a stick to see what they were eating.

Some frogs were just dead - perhaps after trying to catch a bee instead of a fly.

And some flies were just dead because they landed on my leg and I swatted them. I do not have any pictures because there was not anything left to show of them.

The glories of life in its diversity was only made more valuable by the juxtaposition of death side-by-side.

I just have to be still and around me, I will see the entirety of the circle of life.

Being Still

This morning I went down to my parents’ pond - or what’s left of it - and took the time to really look. The Nature Channel on television has infinite documentaries on watering holes and the animals that use them, but I had never seen one on insects. 

I had never taken the time to look for them either.

This morning, the entire remnant of the pond was abuzz with various bugs that came for sustenance or supplies. Bees, wasps, and flies worked in abundance around the limited water that was left. Some bees and wasps gathered water while others gathered together bits of mud for their nest.

All it took was me being still for a little while.

Being still and watching what is happening. Listening for the quiet sounds. Stillness and listening. Two qualities we often overlook in this mad world as we try to keep up with all that is happening around us.

Being still I saw wild bugs hovering above the mud.

I do not believe I have ever taken a better picture. Even the newborn fawn does not compare to the hovering bug with its wing caught mid-stoke.

Being still, I saw a variety of moths landing on the mud.

Being still, I saw a red wasp land on the water and be blown across on the wind as the wasp gathered water for building it's paper nest.

Being still, I saw an amazing white-faced beetle crawling around the mud.

Being still, I saw bugs crawling out of the water and across the mud.

Being still, I saw life happening around me that I had never noticed before. No matter what I have going on in my life, I must take the time to stop, pause, and notice what is really happening around me that under other circumstances I would charge right past.

Being still, I must have patience and see the beauty that surrounds me.

Wilderness Skills

For the first time in many years, I spent multiple nights at my parents’ house in my home town. When getting back to their house after spending the bulk of the day at the hospital where my father was recovering from a recent surgery, I would do the chores that needed doing then head out into the pasture with my camera to catch what wildlife or other nature sights I could before the sun went down too much. 

Due to the ongoing drought, even though the time was middle-spring, areas that should be lush and green instead appeared dull, dusty, and stressed from lack of moisture. Armadillos were out well before dusk to begin their digging in search of grubs near the surface. I even managed to catch a rabbit in the middle of one of the right-of-ways cut through the wooded area. 

The most amazing sight, though, came when I walked upon a doe that was preoccupied with something besides my approach. Long after I snapped the first picture of her, she remained with her head turned aside. Finally she turned aside and I could see something that from the distance appeared to be a cat crawling around below her.

Moving around to gain a better vantage, and with the benefit of my zoom lens, I was able to see the new-born fawn that lay flat against the ground as soon as the doe moved away upon noticing me.

I remembered all the times as a youth I had used my wilderness skills to sneak up on the white-tailed deer in our pasture. I would get within yards of them and yell, “BOO” as loudly as possible just to see them about jump out of their skins. Looking back as an adult, I’m really glad none of them ever attacked me with their razor sharp hooves, but after again being able to sneak up on a deer and see the brand new life, I am glad to know I still have some of the skills.

The Wilderness at Home

This past week while hiking with my friends I asked them to be on the lookout for snakes, as snakes are one of my favorite photographic subjects, though I find too few around Austin or on the well traveled trails. We did manage to come across a few lizards on the hike, but no snakes were seen.


Until Tuesday when I was working in my garden.

You can see the rat snake top center if you look closely.

And there in my home mulch (along with turkey bones) was a lovely rat snake. Although I had a hoe in my hand, my first thought was not to chop its head off, my first thought was to run and grab my camera (which I obviously did).

A little closer to the snake.

Just the day before I had seen a mouse run into the mulch bin, so I should not have been surprised to find a rat snake in there. I am sure my various mulching and the mice it attracted kept him well fed.

After snapping a few pictures, I put on my gardening gloves and picked him up and checked him out to make sure there were no obvious injuries from being dumped out of a mulch bin and it seemed to be just fine, so I let him go at the far end of the bed, away from where I was working and he slithered off to find more mousey goodness.