Eagles and Vultures

On January 1st I wrote a short poem which included this repeating line;-

“Whatever this year may bring I will remember…"

After I wrote it I almost hesitated to complete the post thinking I was tempting fate. But I am not overly superstitious and now recognize those words have grounded me over a few months of turmoil and change. Not that anything completely devastating has happened, but like Solomon wrote, it is often small things growing out of proportion that bring conflict and misunderstanding in our relationships.

Catch all the foxes, those little foxes, 

before they ruin the vineyard of love, 

for the grapevines are blossoming!  

Song of Solomon 2:15

I had a few days off work this week and the beauty of the beginning of May has restored and uplifted my spirit. I ventured out to the Nith River, which is flooded and fast-flowing due to recent heavy and frequent rain storms. The Bald Eagles are parents once again and appear to be raising one eaglet this season. They rule their world from the top of a lone pine tree and soar majestically in the sky, taking turns watching their offspring.

A little further down the road I came across a dilapidated shed where seven turkey vultures rested, opening their wings at times to the sunshine. They are similar in size to the Bald Eagles and are graceful in flight. But the differences between the birds are striking.

• Bald Eagles build a large nest high in a tree or cliff. Turkey Vultures do not build nests but lay eggs in caves, crevices, or abandoned buildings.

• Eagles have talons for catching live prey while Vultures have no need of talons or strong feet for their diet of carrion.

• Vultures are communal by nature and hang out in groups. Bald Eagles sometimes roost communally in the winter near a food source but are solitary and territorial most of the year.

• Turkey Vultures have a well developed sense of smell for sourcing food while Bald Eagles rely more on keen eyesight for hunting.

• Vultures lack a syrinx, the vocal organ of birds. They vocalize only with hisses and grunts. The Bald Eagle has a audible call that echoes across the river. Even the young eaglet can emit a loud, repeated single note when it is alone the nest.

• And then there is the head… a majestic, white-feathered head with piercing yellow eyes compared to a homely bald, red head with large olfactory openings.

The diversity of the natural world is not divisive but complementary. Eagles and Vultures each have important roles and one is not more valuable than the other. There are times when dead things need to be cleaned up.

Recently, I took a patient for a walk with a coworker. We chatted about the weather and looked out the window at the opening leaves and flowers. I cleaned the patient’s glasses and combed their hair. The person sat down after the walk and while we watched, died instantly. There was no warning, no cry, no pain, just sudden death. It made me glad that the last 15 minutes of life was spent in an agreeable way. If there was unresolved conflict in that life, there was no opportunity for resolution.

Can you find the single eaglet in the bottom left side of the nest?

We would choose to soar like eagles, living territorially above the grittiness of earth. But there are times when we must deal with conflict and death, putting our heads into the carcass of the past or present before moving ahead to better things.

Currently reading: Water to Wine by Brian Zahnd
Currently listening to: Illumination: Peaceful Gregorian Chants

Québec City by Calèche

My first calèche ride, Québec City 1972

Grandma took me on a bus tour of Québec the summer I was seventeen and she was seventy-seven. My mother had taken the same route with her when she was a teenager. Grandma wanted me to ride a calèche in Québec City and see the birds on Percé Rock, far east of the big cities. Everyone on the bus called her Grandma by the end of the two week trip. There was only one other passenger my age who was travelling with her parents but we all had a great time. 

I took our daughters to Québec in 1998 when they were teenagers and told them Grandma’s stories. I re-read her copies of The Golden Dog by William Kirby and Maria Chapdelaine by Louis Hémon. We went to Halifax and Prince Edward Island instead of Percé but stayed a few days at Ste. Anne de Beaupré as a base for our exploration of the Québec City area. And we toured the city by calèche.

Québec City 1998

Last month my husband and I visited Montreal and Québec City for a few days. Both cities are rich in the history and culture of Europe and the New World. We walked the upper and lower sections of Old Québec City and took the ferry to Lévis on the other side of the St. Lawrence River. We had some extra time on the last day and decided to take a tour of the upper city by calèche for Grandma. The limestone buildings and the Plains of Abraham were warmed by the low sun of a September afternoon and our driver chatted amicably with his lilting French accent. So much has changed and so much has not changed in the past forty-four years since I was seventeen. 

September 2016

The slide show has a short video clip in the middle of our horse-drawn tour through the old walled city. One thing that has changed dramatically over the years is the quality of cameras. I have 12 faded colour snapshots of the two week trip we took in 1972.

Vacation

Sun and shadow shroud the cliffs of the Grand Canyon as a

   Condor soars on air currents high above the Colorado River.

The San Francisco peaks are on the horizon but you cannot

   hear clanging cable cars, 

      see the Golden Gate Bridge or

         feel the ghosts of Alcatraz in the same-named city.

Pacific waters ripple over my feet in British Columbia, Ventura,
   and remote Mexican beaches with pelicans.

Cold Atlantic waves chill me in Newfoundland, Fundy, Rhode Island, 
   and New York City by the Statue of Liberty.

I stand atop Sulphur Mountain, Mount Washington, and float in the fault that

   holds the Dead Sea.

We cross Canada by land and sea from Victoria to Cape Spear, 
   over mountains, through prairies and forests, 

      and hear a loon laugh, the moon mirrored on a quiet lake. 

I listen to music in concert halls, on streets, in the hum of markets
   in Boston, Vancouver, Jerusalem, Guadalajara,

      and at home.

I ride a camel, travel by air, ocean liner, train, bicycle, bus 
   and drive California State Route 1.

History beckons from castles, cathedrals, communities, 
   and the Alamo.

Our world is large, yet closer, smaller and more

   accessible in modern times.

I watch a bright yellow Goldfinch tentatively

   remove a seed from a dead flower in my garden and

      wash it down with a sip from the bird bath beside me.

The search for beauty, relationship, rest, holiness,

   amidst the clamour of life brings

      a holiday for my soul.

Life Birds and More on Manitoulin Island

Baltimore Oriole (f), E. Bluebird (juv), Fritillary butterfly, Singing Swamp Sparrow

I enjoy birding on Manitoulin Island in the summer as much as my husband enjoys fishing. We have not been there since 2013 as we vacationed in other places the past two years. For eight years or so, we booked the cabin at the beginning of July. Many of the migratory birds were still very territorial as breeding season was beginning. The males were easy to see as they sang loudly from hydro wires, tree tops and open branches, marking their nesting area. This year we went to Lake Manitou the last week of July. I could hardly find any birds the first day or two. There were many young birds around who had fledged but who still needed help finding food. These young birds are very vulnerable to predators and generally stayed hidden in thickets and brush. The adult birds were very secretive too. 

American Bittern

One bird I have searched for unsuccessfully in every marsh is an American Bittern. They have likely seen me, but I have never seen them. This bird stands very still with its head in an upward position in the reeds. Imagine my surprise when I saw one in a MEADOW by a creek behind the cabin. There was not a cattail in sight. I had about 10 seconds to get a blurry shot on my camera before it flew away.

Lincoln's Sparrow or Juvenile Chipping Sparrows? (answer is JCS)

The camp is bounded by a lake, creek, meadows, farmland, dogwood thickets and woodland. The varied habitat attracts a great variety of birds. I counted 74 species this year that I could identify within a one square kilometer area. Juveniles are very confusing so there were some I could not name.

A small sparrow caught my attention more than once. It had a streaked breast but was not a Song Sparrow. It did not have the eye markings of a Savannah Sparrow, nor was it a Swamp Sparrow. It liked to peck along the gravel roadway. (We found a dead one that had been recently hit by a car). I was hoping it was a Lincoln's Sparrow, which does nest in the area, but it was likely a juvenile Chipping Sparrow. Sparrows can be confusing even if they are mature.

Approximately 12 Sandhill Cranes occupied the farm field across the road. They are as persistently noisy as a rooster and made a fuss if we looked at them. Here is a 15 second clip of their call. Unlike roosters, they were quiet until after sunrise.

The eBird app on my phone was very useful while birding and I submitted checklists twice a day. Every week of summer is different for birding. Black birds are already flocking in preparation for migration. I have seen one third of the birds that have been identified on the island so there are a lot more yet to find.

Light Parables

We are on summer vacation, a vacation I was reluctant to take. Life has been busy and I felt too tired to organize meals and household necessities needed for a week-long stay in a "rustic" cabin at a fishing camp. The world seems like such a dark place right now. Bad news stories overwhelm the media and social civility is at a low level. I decided to forego news and social media for a week and to spend time rejuvenating my soul and spirit in nature. My outlook has brightened significantly already!

Solar lights are situated at the edges of the deck of our cabin. The lake breezes keep mosquitoes away even after sunset making it comfortable to sit outside. Darkness is intense away from a city and the light from the small solar cell is surprisingly bright. I think Jesus would have told a parable about a solar light rather than an oil lamp if he was giving sermons on earth today. Energy from the source of light is stored and then reflected in rays that represent all facets of life. Light is always stronger than darkness. In that little solar light I see an image of what I need to be;- a light in the darkness caused by illness, grief, fear, pessimism and hopelessness. 

The full moon was a week ago and the moon rises later each night making it visible in the daytime. I like to see moonlight on the water but that will not happen while we are here this year. The moon also gets its light from the sun and reflects it to the earth. 

 We sat in a cemetery outside the city on September 27, 2015 and watched the full eclipse of the moon. The earth moved between the sun and the moon causing the moon to darken completely. It is not surprising that ancient people feared such an event when they did not have the scientific knowledge to understand what was happening. If negative circumstances and cares of life block us from our light source, we too can become "darkened" in spirit. Losing our power source in today's world can happen subtly and finding it again requires self-reflection and rebalancing of priorities. And that is my goal for this week.

"You are the light of the world.

 A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, 

but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house.

 "Let your light shine before men in such a way 

that they may see your good works, 

and glorify your Father who is in heaven. 

 Matthew 5:14-16