Catbirds, Conservation and Contradance

Turning over a new leaf

2007-02-27T12:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

In the beech and maple woods that shares its edges with our backyard
and the Hampshire farm, I walked this afternoon with the four-legged
lopers, slinkers and the climbers, watching the tracks they had made
over and under the snow on their daily comings and goings. I am so
fortunate to be here.

A retracing of my travels (after long last!) begins at home in
northeast Pennsylvania, where I had been for a month after departing
Lost Valley in Oregon. If you peek through the doorway at 14 Greenwich
road, the little lilac single floor house set back against the woods,
you'll find four comrades, Ben, Mo and Olive (and the little insect
that we spotted over several days, first on the windowsill above our
kitchen sink that looks into our backyard, then on our old wooden
chest that sits in the living room, and even all the way down the hall
in my room) and myself, each running our own unique lives and
converging to share our dumpstered cake, bushels of ! organic !
bananas and bread enough to soak up all the snow that's been melting
in our driveway with today's sunshine.

I had been home in northeast PA for a couple weeks, then to NYC to
visit Sara and Tim and pick up a Seagull guitar, and I am now carving
new paths down my present journey in western Mass, excited as
conversations, rebonding, dancing and fiddling lure me back to this
valley and its hills. I've already run into Susan and Madison from
Lost Valley and spent time with Laura several times, including our
most recent afternoon spent designing the budding Montview Farm in an
intensive and highly productive and idea-generating permaculture
design charrette in Northampton yesterday.

I lived for 3 1/2 months at Lost Valley in Oregon, a home like no
other, that has imprinted my soul. From work trading in the garden,
spending time with my 8-year old buddy Ben who has autism, to taking
the month-long permaculture design course, I was immersed in a loving
community that continues to fuel me. From cabin 8 at Lost Valley, my
next dwelling was my home with family in northeast PA, where I stayed
just long enough to catch a brief bit of a winter so mild the
blackberry buds started popping out, surely convinced they'd not
witness any snow this year…I partook in a sweat lodge with a few
friends as well, which gave me great grounding and turned over my new
leaves. To Del Tura I traveled next, where the road marked Via Del Sol
(way of the sun) took us to my grandparents' sunny southern home in
Florida for Christmas. I sang songs with my grandparents, mom, dad and
sister, as we realized again just how charming those two are,
especially when they're singing barbershop quartet songs from back in
their day. On the manicured golf-course of their residential
development, we found solace as we stalked Sandhill cranes, beautiful
four-foot tall creatures with a playful curiosity I couldn't resist
laughing out loud at. We walked the boardwalk at Corkscrew Swamp
Sanctuary, teeming with wildlife I've seen only in Southwest Florida.
Then, before flying home, I spent time with John from Lost Valley,
whose folks lived just a ½ hour away.

Back to PA for the next holiday. Over New Years at the annual
gathering with "extended family" (other past counselors of Journey's
End, the Quaker based farm camp in lil' ole' rural Pennsylvania), I
excitedly shared all that I could with people about the basics of
Permaculture, knowing that these are just the right people who
appreciate being infused with the info. Divine harmonies, the kind
that you hear only sung by the peace-loving, 20-somethin',
foot-stompin' folk, streamed through the air in the farmhouse, warmed
by wood crackling in the stove and circulating with one of those nifty
self-propelling eco-fans. In the morning, I started chores--I
gratefully took eggs from the ladies-of-the-coop, which get sold by
the dozen to many-a local-yokel, went down to the creek to fetch them
some water and brought grain in exchange for these eggs (not so sure
that's a fair barter), and then visited the cows. I took much delight
in watching Caramel, a calf, have her ears licked by her close
companion, Molly dog. I trio-ed with two other female fiddlers and
then a few days later played waltzes with the Warrington Family Band
over the New Year's contradance held just south of here.

On returning home after the New Years fiesta, my brother, Prana, gave
me a heads-up that a friend of the family had a need for some hefty
hands to help on the day that his new book was to arrive, en masse.
This landed me a job for the month of January, while Prana and I
placed book orders (a book titled "The Happiness Revolution" about
changing diet, outlook and health using the wisdom passed down by
yogic, ayurvedic and other ancient traditions) and did all sorts of
office and web work.

Mondays, I'd been going to what I feel is the best thing Honesdale's
got going for it lately, a well-attended herbal study group. We test
tinctures, read Radical Healing, Planetary Herbology, and have even
practiced kids songs written about herbs to sing at next week's
gathering. Great hits such as "Plantain, plantain, I love you,
plantain, you grow everywhere that I'm planting. Some call you a weed
with the power to cure bites and stings….and to cure urinary
infections..." and "comfrey, comfrey, comfort me. Comfrey, comfrey,
heal me. Make my bones strong again, cool inflammation, comfrey,
comfrey, helps me to breathe."

Meanwhile, I'd been planning my next move, and thought for a while I'd
be living up at Sirius, but the bike into town would have been a bit
too serious for me (1000 ft relief over 7 mi). I'm sure to visit
often, though, and I'll keep it in mind for the summer or fall. I'm
sharing a house in Amherst with Hampshire students; I knew I was in
for a musical household with some good inspiring conversation and no
doubt delicious dinners.

And, what might I be doing in Western mass (more precisely, why have I
decided to do anything but return to my most recent home and loves of
life in Lost Valley)? A mix of jobs, for starters. In the springtime,
I will be doing in total three afternoons of work for Earthwork
Programs & Adventure in Adventure out, both native skills and
environmental education/nature awareness programs for public school
and homeschool children. One thursday a month, I will be co-teaching
Daughters of the Earth, a homeschool program for 5-6 girls, held out
at Sirius, through Earthwork. I just met Michelle with whom I'll be
instructing and we walked the land last week. We'll may build a
quinzee hut, have wild edibles walks, track, use a many-person-powered
fire-by-friction bow drill and more. Our headquarters will be the
little nooky cobb structure (with a swing inside!) on Sirius land.

Occasionally, I'll substitute bike for a workers cooperative called
Pedal People, an alternative recycling/deliveries service that totes
loaded bike trailers along their routes in Northampton, Ma and founded
by Alex, my good friend and fellow contradance bandmember of
Ubertuber; build bike carts to mimic Aaron's "Flatsy" design of a cart
that hitches to the back of a bike and is relatively simple to build
with some welded EMT conduit poles and BMX bike wheels; revive
Ubertuber and see if we can get any gigs, perhaps busk on the streets
once the weather allows; substitute teach at the Montessori school in
Amherst (starting tomorrow for my first full day with the toddlers!);
respite health care jobs if these other prospects are spotty; heck I
might look into modeling for art classes in the five colleges. Oh,
right. The two other main work possibilities are in an international
studies office with a friend previously in the sustainability
department or working at the Eric Carle Children's Book Museum cafe,
both a mere 5-8 minute bike ride from home.

Joyful journeying to you. By receiving this letter, you are in my
heart and I am thankful for you. I'll be glad when we can share in
each other's company, and until then, I trust that you will be making
strides as you set your own course, wind at your back and doing
endless acts of good-heartedness for the earth and all those around
you.

Love,

Dhyana

Our mailbox would love some attention; it's hinges are aching for some
exercise, and I'm sure yours is too...As always, I'm delighted to know
what brings you joy in your life right now, as well as simply a
two-liner email to let me know your updated contact info if you've
moved in, say, the last year. Want to see some photos or read about my
past ventures? http://dhyana06.blogspot.com/ I'll send a link again
as I upload a second batch of lost valley photos and beyond.

Wisdom from Margaret Mead:

"The solution to adult problems tomorrow depends on large measure upon
how our children grow up today."

"We won't have a society if we destroy the environment."

"I was wise enough to never grow up while fooling most people into
believing I had."

"It is utterly false and cruelly arbitrary to put all the play and
learning into childhood, all the work into middle age, and all the
regrets into old age."

"I have a respect for manners as such, they are a way of dealing with
people you don't agree with or like."

A taste of down under

2006-01-31T15:07:00.000-08:00

Kia ora!

~I wrote this greeting from a home I was thankful to return to on the day before I flew home. This place is Ecoquest, on the Kaiaua coast at Whakatiwai. It's an assortment of accounts from my travels, written to my EQ cronies, but for all to read.

Though the rain is being tossed about, making for a potentially dreary afternoon, it has instead created an afternoon steeped with stories, shared over a lunch and ginger-lemon tea with Ria, Liz, George and Jono. And, I'm sleeping in our cabin, Jen!

For those of you bleary-eyed at the end of this note (novella), I hope you'll still find time to flick one back to me, no matter how short or long, in a few hours, next week, or even next month. I've managed to stray from computers this until now, resulting in this incredibly epic tale in one giant-sized portion, the longest email I've written, full of run-ons. Ready for it?

I have felt your vibes as I've traveled, and especially now, being back, seeing each of you-- laughing and carrying on, out on the climbing wall, caring for the chooks (yep--they're all still here, and those lovely ladies are giving eggs to those who are staying at the Kaiaua motor camp)...tending to the garden (thanks heaps, Leo--we just had some basil, lettuce and wee litle tomatoes with lunch), walking on the beach, composing tunes on the deck of the wharekai, and running out in the rain for the pure joy of the release.

Goodness sakes, where to begin. Well, out at Tiritiri I heard and saw my first kiwi, which was an experience I shared with a few others staying at the bunkhouse, as we investigated on a strange muffled scuffling just off the track. I had been doing odd volunteer jobs and enjoying it thoroughly (as one would, 'working' on an island and falling hopelessly in love with the wildlife and people on it instantly). Emilie, from Holland, is studying the NI robin, and as my general duties ended at 3, I went out with her in search of nestlings to band and a few M.I.A. females, (all of whom have been reunited with their mates). One of our efforts to capture a juvenile was thwarted by Greg, a Takahe who seems to know all the ongoings of the island and show up at the most inopportune times... While I was there, I also went out once at night to band unsuspecting little blue penguins coming up on shore. Helping with kakariki observations led me to seeing a nest box chock-a-block full with 9 eggs, and while monitoring a hihi nest I saw a morepork and her two little ones roosting contentedly up in a tree nearby. Those details being the icing, the cake consisted of painting new steps to go in near the lighthouse, painting signs, constructing shelving and relocating cleaning supplies from a shed, filling the water feeders every morning, and things of that ilk.

Traveling through this country wouldn't be complete without half a dozen more random (?) encounters with people I hadn't expected to see again...and again. As I relaxed into the cozy plush chair at Whitcoull's bookstore, who do I see but the man a few of us had come across on Queen street a week before and in Graham's friend's dorm/train station ! None other than Felipe Gomez. Well, after a few words of disbelief, we began to search for books to give as christmas gifts for "two 35-year old dads in difficult circumstances"--for their non-denominational church gift swap. I suggested the Blue Day Book, and we picked up two copies just in time, then he invited me up to the flat he and several other international students share at Auckland Uni. In their living room (complete with hammock strung from wall to wall and windows overlooking the city), we had a scrumptious vege dinner prepared by Geronimo (yep), an Argentinian student, another absolutely lovely individual, shared with and Claire and Nicholas, a french couple, Dave (who is from Chicago, plays a guitar he's collaged with all sorts of photos from his life, works at the "Boost"-smoothie stand, loves a cappella music and was heaps of fun to talk with), and Felipe. A bunch of 20-and 30- somethings just enjoying each other's company to the utmost, for one night, chattering and laughing away, as if meeting people with this much in common was easy. The next morning I headed off to Warkworth, for my first WWOOFing escapade.

Alright, so from here on out, little blurbs will have to suffice. I helped rehabilitate injured kereru, tui, morepork, ducks and other birds, also tending to pigs, a goat and two donkeys during my week stay at this home in the hills. Shit-shoveling became a daily chore, but I was glad to do it, as donkey turds are well-contained little clumps (making the task far from grueling), and it was all part of the local economy (green dollar). Thomas (the other WWOOFer, from Canada) and I pulled weeds, chatting about politics, did the daily animal tasks, and even tramped (slipped, at times) down a never-ending gully to locate a waterfall tucked away far from the reach of most two-legged visitors. I spent christmas with Shawn and Michael, and while I was there, met two incredible neighbors, Joe and Trish, who came over for dinner. They live on Rainbow Valley Farm, living creatively and happily, practicing permaculture principles and holding workshops to share the knowledge. It's not been easy; callused hands tell of years of good full-on work, starting with hand-pulling every bit of gorse that riddled the land. I left, just to return two days later, for dinner and enthralling conversation on ecovillage design.

So much for thinning the nutshell. I headed for my next WWOOF site, which inspired a bit of personal growth in ways I hadn't expected. On arriving, I found that Anahata (the name meaning heart chakra) WAS the site of very same community my last host had described, (Centrepoint), though I had assured him that this was a different place, as I had thought. The WWOOF description says nothing of its days as a commune infamous for drugs, orgy therapy and the like, so when I arrived, realizing this and seeing several unkempt, underloved living areas (manifestations perhaps of the people there?), I passed my judgements. I immediately felt that this was a far cry from any dedicated, enriching "ecovillage" in my eyes, and began looking for a way out. A now-good-friend, Annamaria (a petite irish woman), was planning to head off two days from then, and I started making arrangements to go with her.

--Here's the flipside. I realized that while I wouldn't live there for any length of time, there were a handful of individuals who were investing time and energy into the physical and social elements of their community (So, there was hope). I immediately got to know who those people were, and I was soon assigned the task of figuring out a way to "save the birds" in their patch of native bush, once one of the community members discovered I had a passion for birds and conservation work. She wanted me to write an article to Forest and Bird, to spread the word, essentially about the biodiversity value of their land, towards keeping it safe from rapidly encroaching development. What had to be done first was a bit of groundwork, and so I set out to do it. I got in touch with a local organization (a whim gone so right), and Tony Hart came out the next day to do a site visit and consultation. He gave the community all sorts of ideas on how to work with the council and team up with other neighboring communities in Albany facing the same development pressures. I left the end of that week feeling accomplished, but more than that, accepting of people I had been so quick to judge.

The night before Annamaria and I took a road trip to Benneydale, she, another mutual friend and I sang the night away with some Iron and Wine, Tracy Chapman, Josh Ritter, Crosby, Stills & Nash, and more, while we looked at some photos we'd all taken over a few bird-photography day trips. On one of those trips, we went to Miranda, and as they ate at the fish and chips, I jogged back to Whakatiwai to see who I might see, and sure enough--RHONDA appeared, driving out to dinner!

Staying in a farmhouse in Benneydale, we spent the next few days in the field, going after robins, and she headed off to WWOOF in Napier, on a shitake mushroom farm. I loved working there so much that when I had a weekend off up at the KMA, I bused back to Benneydale. Nikki, finishing his masters on robins, is one of the greatest, most eco-minded kiwi I've met. He and his flatmates do things like organizing a new category for the NZ twitching (rare-bird-finding) 24-hr marathon event: by bike, rather than by car, helicopter and every other fuel-guzzling-bird-unfriendly mode of transport there is. He and I spent most of our days trapsing around in farmer's paddocks, avoiding the stampeding steer along the way, until we reached the patches of bush, offering mealworms and calling "Here, robbie, robbie, robbie" to the birds he'd been training for translocation. People I've become good friends with along the way have been marvelous at mixing work with play--I couldn't have asked for a better holiday. One nite, we went tiptoeing (up to our knees) around in a little ditch looking to catch Australian bellfrogs (nope, not a typo). He went in first, and soon we were madly (but stealthily) leaping after these frogs, to get a good glimpse.

Karori Wildlife sanctuary--again, an absolute trip. I was radio tracking kaka, tuatara, searching for nests, (*found two bellbird nests - one on the day I arrived, one on the day I left), and continuing to have the time of my life. In Wellington, I met up with Bernard (from live bait--the band at Molly Malones!!), as he was also listening to the music in the botanical gardens outdoor amphitheater one summer nite. He invited me to a couple fiddling events that week--an irish jam session, dinner and music with friends (who are into arabic, gypsy, klezmer and all sorts of music styles). The adventures didn't stop there, as on my bus ride back from Wellington I met Martin, a friend from working at Journey's End farm camp in Pennsylvania two years back! Whoah. Well, a few days at the Hunua Ranges with more wonderful people and kokako just about sums it up.

From time to time, I stop and think about how much love there is among us. You all truly amaze me. Thanks heaps for all of it, and for the reunions yet to come. Hey--I called Max up on friday; it sounds like he might be heading for the states at some point in the not-so-distant future! So, with best wishes for this new year, I'll leave you all to it, whatever it is you were up to. I think we've stumbled upon the 'real stuff' of life together, and I'm psyched to tell friends and family back home (tomorrow!) all about y'all.

Love,
Dhyana

A nice poem I came across in a collection of NZ poetry while sitting in a bookstore in Papakura:
Song for a Child

Each day the thrush is heard
on pole or bough
Singing as though no bird
found voice 'till now

The young rose lifts her head
As if her root
Knew nothing of roses dead
Or younger shoot.

Child, in the morning sun
Find all things new
With each new rose; ask none
if they speak true.
--Ruth Dallas

kaua e tirohia te pai ahua, engari te raupa o te ringa
take no heed of good looks, but rather of the rough hand of the worker
--Maori proverb

Born free

2005-06-18T21:49:00.000-07:00

I'm on my own. Jake, the other main catbird intern, is out in MN visiting relatives and going fishing. It feels so good to be taking this journey of the next week (albeit a little scary) with all the responsibilities on my shoulders. If I miss nests (which will happen because there are so many more birds and buckthorn nests than I could ever begin to find) then that's a missing link in the story we'll be compiling at the conclusion of the research. So, I suppose that's a bit of my apprehension of what the week will bring, with the unknown of how many birds I might see, what the weather will be and all. But, I'll be going out in the morning to see who I can see and which of our nests have little blue eggs, which have nestlings and keep on enjoying it all as I go. What is a healthy dose of the work ahead without a full belly? I just got back from the little locally owned health food store, "Better Thymes", just in Front Royal, VA. Quite the trip. On my to-get list were rechargeable batteries (for my newly acquired Marantz digital recorder and soon to arrive--shotgun microphone for picking up Catbird vocalizations), various food items, a belt (to hold up my hip boots, cheap socks and a number 10 crochet hook. Why the crochet hook? Thought you'd ask. Well, this morning, I removed (extracted) my first bird from a net (mind you, the MAPS banding happens once a week, or every-other, if I don't decide to go for a 35 min drive at 5 in the morning)~! It was a darling little American goldfinch, a male, who was a recapture. He was so tiny compared to the catbirds and red-winged blackbirds I had worked with before, though only slightly smaller than the vireo I'd banded down at Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary (where my sister, Anala had interned). He didn't put up any bit of a fuss, which makes it a lot easier for the both of us. I slid him into the bird bucket and took out my wax pencil to jot the first bit of data: AMGO, 0730, net 12, bander's initials: DCM. The crochet hook comes in handy to free the wings, head and feet of a bird that has been pretty well tangled in the net, which thankfully this one had not.

The day wasn't without it's tension, though. Down by net 7 we had to radio back to the banding station that we needed some assistance. A male redwing was in the net (with presumably his partner) and while she was ok, as soon as I cradled him in my hand, I saw that some of the red wasn't from his epaulette (the red patch on the wing) but from blood. And, then I saw some dried around his beak as well. Tough time. Rather than take him back up to the pavillion for banding, we released him right there. It looked as though he and a field sparrow caught in net 12 had been injured before flying in the net. The field sparrow had made a narrow escape from a larger bird or predator, perhaps a few hours before. These moments of worry and deep breaths were soon followed by a good aging and sexing of a few birds back up the hill as we plopped in the gators, booted legs draped over the back.

I am learning how you can microage certain avian species but not others, dependent in part on the time of season you find them and how distinct the plumage characteristics are. With the AMGO (AMerican GOldfinch), you can age the bird to a certain extent but that may or may not be 'accepted' with the MAPS protocol, because it may not be something that can be standardized across the country with volunteers of varied experience doing the same analysis of feather colorings, contrast and wear and tear. But, in short, we looked at the tail retrices (the tail feathers) to see whether the outer ones have a notch where the dark grey meets the white tips (usually symmetrical but this guy had ones that were quite different). We looked at this and how truncated (rather than tapered) the tips of the tail feathers were as well as the black crown patch and bright yellow plumage on the back to know that this individual was past HY (Hatching Year), likely SY (Second Year) but we could only say for sure AHY (After Hatching Year), which is less definitive as we'd like to nail down a year to provide as detailed data as possible. Very interesting process and what's more is that the people there are all people I get to meet from the community. One older man (going on 80!) has a mind as sharp as a pin, is a certified drug and alcohol counselor (like my dad), carves birds out of wood, is so very sweet and one of the most dedicated people on the team.

Well, enough for tonite. I must away to check out who I'll be listening to in the morning and what territories I'll be searching for possible re-nests (these catbirds usually have two broods, especially if the first was predated). I think I'll take a walk down to reward myself at the end of the morning over to Mulberry Mecca, as I like to call it, where we saw an amazing influx of catbirds, along with orioles (orchard and baltimore), woodpeckers, thrashers, cedar waxwings and pretty much anyone else looking for a good berry meal as the sun sank over the hill casting a peachy-yellow light on the kettle pond and sycamore just below.

Good day. I found Westsoy -unsweetened- 32 ounces of soymilk for (get this) - a dollar. And, I picked up 5 of them. What a deal. I'm a sucker for bulk organics.

Victory and success

2005-06-14T12:06:00.000-07:00

We've made it past the crunch of writing our research proposals, peer-editing, presentations and the 'defense' of our projects. Now, for the real thing. I've been going out a few times over the past week and a half to help out with the ongoing project and get a feel for what I'd be getting into. People are going out with their mentors to get to know their plants, animals and whatnot. This weekend, we all were invited up to my mentor (Dave Carr)'s house for dinner. He and Beth served us dinner and we went outside of their beautiful home (the last home he lived in was a Yurt, so this is quite the switch to a multi-level home with several acres and a wide panorama of the mountains). We had to 'work' for our food, though, and Jacob, Molly and I played some tunes (5-octave keyboard, guitar and fiddle and voice). A little Jamaica Farewell, Dust in the Wind, and others. Dave showed us where a Black bear had completely demolished one of his bird feeders, taken the steel and just bent it right over. Bird feeders are like bear bags, just hung a little too low, so when bears are about, they go for the free food. I would, too.

Last night, when I went out to record, the first two birds I saw were unbanded, and then the last, which I snuck very stealthily upon. Then, I used some of my yoga moves to balance in various odd positions and neck angles to get a good look at him through the window framed by leaves. I got a good half hour of recording, then I heard footsteps coming through the undergrowth. I snapped my fingers because Jake was coming down the path returning from other searches and I couldn't lose this precious singing. It was a banded male, YRGX (left leg yellow and red band; right leg green and aluminum). We stood in silence until the bird stopped singing about 10 minutes later. He ended with a little "mreaawr" and then was off to sleep. This morning, I listened to the first male that I was able to identify all by my little lonesome. It was XRXB, with the red and blue bands shining brilliantly. I also saw a female bird (one that had been banded by the MAPS program, up the hill and across the property). She has a nest just down the stone wall from XRXB.

Time to go see what these recordings have in store for us--going to do some digitizing (taking the tapes and feeding them through the computer to convert them to wav files). Just heard on the oldies station that there's a heat advisory for today--eeks! 95 and supposed to be a heat index of 101. Glad to be birding in the wee hours.

'till then,

Dhyana

Oh Shenandoah...I'm bound away

2005-05-29T21:20:00.000-07:00

The sun is slowly sinking down here at Blandy. I made it to the computer room here; Jake on the catbird team who was here two years ago as an REU had the key. It's so nice not having a computer set up in my living space. Try it sometime. It's a real treasure, discovering what you'll do when email's not there to be checked on an obsessive basis. Ahhh.....So, one thing I did was get up at 4:40 this morning before the crack of dawn. Well, I suppose I woke up at 4:22 to my alarm, as my dad told us when we all got up for good. I bought a watch (another nice thing to not have for a while, but now I'm using it for a travel alarm) and it was set for 4:22. My folks stayed over 'till today; my dad had woken up at 4:21, heard my watch at 4:22, then at 4:23 he heard the first bird singing outside. Synchronicity must be setting in. By then, I must have turned over and started catching the next twenty minutes or so of sleep before getting up for good. About 4:55, once I'd started eating some shredded wheat, I heard a train not too far away. That'll be a good predictable way to wake up, if my watch is buried under the pillow.

The reason for all this early rising? I'll be walking out past the arboretum, through the fields, past the little pond with the purple martin houses and the wood duck momma and her baby and into a couple different habitats where grey catbirds like to nest. This morning, we went out for the first time to see what's been getting recorded, where a few nests are, and who lives out in those woods, singing to greet the sun. Eventually (not-too-distant-future) I'll be coming up with some sort of project within what's been going on so far. It's a little daunting, because I've just come back from final projects and all and now I've got to keep the creativity cap on through another season and come up with this research proposal. I suppose the endless possibilities will eventually find a way to knock on my door one by one and I'll pick a few from the bunch.

Enough with that. Back to this morning. After we did a little recording, round about 7:30 we headed back and then off to the Shenandoah National Park! I had no idea that the mountains I'd be this close to were so beautiful. Troves of wildlife, too. We went on the fox hollow discovery trail and entered a lush green woods. I was hearing all sorts of birds, some I could identify and others will be good puzzlers of the summer. I was pleased that my super glue job on my binocs has held up. They took a spill last winter as I was tracking red fox on campus, and it makes me happy to be able to repair things to full function. So, with them, I saw an american redstart, scarlet tanager, indigo bunting (2!), orchard oriole, blackpoll warbler, a drink-your-teeeaaa rufous-sided towhee. Plenty of others, too, which made for an exciting day of rarely seen birds (by me, anyhow). We rounded a bend and came across an old cemetary. Starting to unravel the history of this area has been really neat. Once homes and farms, now a second growth forest covers so much of what used to be. Flooded over by leaves and a wash of green, relics of the time before are still around, like this 4 or 5-grave cemetary surrounded by a stone wall. Somehow, one of the 'stones' in the wall caught my eye. A few were rusty-red, but this I realized was no stone at all. Just in front of me, maybe 8 feet off the trail, was a sleeping fawn. Mmmmm, it was definitely a 'good medicine' moment as Tom Brown would say in "The Tracker." When we'd lingered long enough, it knew we were there, and yet the only movement it made was blinking its eyes, which I could barely see as it's head was neatly tucked in the curve of its body. A ways down, we crossed a little trickle of a stream and I spotted some red fox, raccoon and bobcat tracks. I measured the bobcat track with my pen and the letters on it. My Paul Rezendes book-"Tracking and the art of seeing" verified that my track of about 1 1/2 inches long, with all the other bobcatt-y characteristics (off-kilter toe pads and such) was made by a bobcat. A bit further down, some fresh scat (also suspiciously bobcat-like) was just off the trail. The flies were signalling its presence--I'd never thought of flies as something we can observe to pick up on details of the lives of other creatures, kind of like bird language and how useful that can be with alarm-calling to alert others of nearby predators. I'd probably have just walked right by it, had it not been for the deafening buzz of these horse flies.

It's getting late by my new bedtime. Off to shower and see if any new roommates have arrived! So far, the two of three of us are here. My room overlooks a beautiful garden where I was sitting this evening as a hummingbird buzzzed over my head towards the columbines and other flowers nearby. It's good to be here.

Gearing up to go ...

2005-05-26T14:26:00.000-07:00

Back from a jam-packed but good semester, finishing up DivII, I'm heading down to the sunny south for a bit. I'll be heading to Blandy Experimental Farm in Boyce, VA on Saturday where I'll be for ten weeks, doing my REU (Reserach Experience for Undergrads) fellowship on songbird acoustics, habitat and nesting success.

I may do a whole suite of bird-related things...I'll be waking up with the crack of dawn to make recordings of the catbirds in the research plots down there; I'll be one of 4 on the "catbird team" as David Carr, my mentor, calls us. After buying a pair of hip-boots, I'll be wading through the dew-filled grasses and thorns searching for catbird nests. So far, 21 of the 100 birds banded at Blandy last summer have returned! The catbird project has been going on for three summers now and new offshoots are forming this year, like using GPS (Global Positioning System) to demarcate all the nest sites, taking down coordinates so we can map them all out later. Another new piece is quantifying color on the chestnut undertail coverts (on the tail feathers). We may find some evidence of this as a sexual selection signal. I'll be volunteering at the MAPS bird banding station, where we'll be putting bands on the birds that come in, as part of long-term population studies. I've yet to design my research proposal--that'll happen after a week or so of being down there.

Last summer, I was out at the Rocky Mountain Biological Lab (RMBL) in Gothic, CO. Never been to Colorado before then and while I was out there, I was so fortunate to be a part of an incredible community. We'd go hiking around the Gunnison National forest, listen to the coyotes at the base of Gothic mountain at night, make homemade ice-cream with one of those you-gotta-work-for-your-ice-cream hand crank ice cream makers, have jam sessions in the Ruby lounge and parade down town on july 4th dressed in corn lily leaves, chanting "close a lid-save a marmot". The marmots have discovered outhouses with the seat covers up and some never returned... We did mostly field biology work (and play) out there, and I took field classes--Plant-Animal Interactions, Ornithology and Conservation Biology. Lately, I've been figuring out that one of the most important pieces in my life is finding real down-to-earth community. I'll be going to New Zealand this fall for field study on my DivIII, through the Ecoquest program. I wasn't sure of my plans until I found out from a couple alums that the field guides and faculty are incredible folks, living the sustainable lifestyle. Perhaps more on that later.

I've been fiddling in a contradance band, Ubertuber . We had a few gigs this semester, ending with one of the members' birthday party contra potluck, complete with a blender bike (human bike-powered smoothie maker) in the yard. On to Virginia.