backyard berries
Life changes. Just when I think I am out of walks for writing, another type of journey presents itself. Close to home, mostly in my backyard, this adventure connects me to nature. Soothing, challenging, it traps my attention. Every once in a while, we can all use a new experience.
Mine begins one day in my backyard. There is an event called the Great Backyard Bird Count that I have participated in for three or four years. I can’t remember exactly, because it is one of those things that catches my focus for an hour or so on several days of interesting distraction, then departs as I go about my usual life. On the correct days, in the correct place, the birding app, Merlin, lists the vocals that add to the nearby birdsong. I listen. I report. That’s all.
Until…
I recognize the call of a Black Phoebe. I know the small bird has a dark, pointy topnotch on its head. I see it on my morning walks around the neighborhood. Like me, it is a resident, not a visitor. Here it is today, in my backyard, calling with a quick chip-chip. I can’t see it, the trees being full with leaves and the bird, smart in a clever way, seizes its food then darts back to safety, hiding once again from the predators I know also reside here.
For years hawks, ultimate predators, had followed me on my walks. They’d shown their hunting grounds, their efforts at making nests, and their parenting skills with newborns. They had surrounded my ventures with their calls. They became so ever-present that I could distinguish between a Cooper’s Hawk and a Red-Shouldered Hawk.
Today, I realize I have some knowledge of another bird, the Black Phoebe. I separate the sound of its call from the backyard symphony of early morning. I want to draw its shape and feathers and help it live in my mind as a neighborhood companion. After years of casual observation, I suddenly discover a pin-pointed focus. My new favorite bird: a Black Phoebe.
But the symphony in my backyard plays on. If I can learn a thing or two about one bird, how much more is there to find out about the thirteen or so others that Merlin hears? All of this richness of experience waits two steps from my kitchen.
Nearly each morning when at home, I sit myself down outside with a cup of tea. Often, I wrap myself in a blanket’s warmth and try to listen. But I am not normally a detail-person. I am eternally fidgety. Soon, my attention wanders and my tea is gone or cold. I grab a moment of peacefulness, then get on with my day. The Black Phoebe changes that.
I buy a wire-bound notebook and a green pen. I write down details on each page each day. The date, time, weather, temperature. I begin paying close attention to the Merlin App on my phone. I pull out my weathered Peterson Field Guide to Birds. I pay less attention to the news and other worries as I lose myself in the discovery of life in my backyard. I bring out my ancient supply of colored pencils, sharpen them all and begin to draw, something I have never before done.
I also see, as new, the leaves the birds use for cover, the berries they eat, the branches they rest on, the mess they leave on the ground.
Of course, I have known these elements existed in my backyard. Now, it is time to become friends with it all and let this experience bring me peace and wisdom and companionship.
I hope an equal journey presents itself to you. We all need new adventures in life, especially when they occur in our backyards.
Susan Vasquez 