Succumbing to Nimue

[vaneramos]

It was a spectacular Monday morning.

Despite the weekend being busy, I missed Danny djjo even more than usual because I wanted to share those experiences with him. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, but distracting at times. I wonder whether I'll get used to this.

After getting home from the gym I felt worn out from so much activity the past several days, and started to settle into a languid funk. That was no good. At 11:30 I shovelled myself outside to enjoy a walk on this marvellous spring day.

Down by the river I took a few pictures. I heard a nondescript warbler song (mp3). It was one I should know. I spotted it, tried to focus my binoculars on it, but at that moment it flew across the river out of sight, there to resume singing. I felt inclined to turn back home by the pressure to accomplish things. Sometimes I still struggle with an underlying concept that going for walks—like writing, drawing and so many other things I like to do—is an unproductive diversion, that I have no right to waste my days doing such things. Consequently I tend to waste hours playing computer games instead.

I inhaled the warm, fragrant air and told myself, "This is what you live for." I knew that once I let go of the pull of home I would start to enjoy myself, and the walk would make me happy about this day at least. So I followed the warbler across the bridge to the other side.

Once there I got caught in the pull of the moment, that state in which the senses are continually drawn by one new discovery after another. The forest floor uncoiling with ferns. The elusive warbler, like Nimue, leading me stumbling through undergrowth. A mallard landing with a quiet swish on the water. Wet mud squishing into my sandals and between my toes. Some Canada geese raising a yodeling ruckus. Marsh marigolds, false solomon's seal, and the last white trilliums fading to pink. My anxiety was quickly forgotten. More photos will follow in a subsequent post.





I stopped to photograph a pop can lying in the woods and discovered black ants trooping in and out of the opening, gathering nourishment. They were so large, sometimes I could hear their feet skittering inside.





It's surprising what will turn up in a city park. I spotted orange mint growing in marshy soil and gathered a handful to bring home for tea along with a root of wild ginger.

The mystery bird turned out to be something common, a black-and-white warbler, but it was my first sighting for the year, along with two other returnees: a great-crested flycatcher and, one of the loveliest songbirds of all, an indigo bunting. The flycatcher nearly startled me out of my wits, emitting without prelude a loud "Wheep!...burble." in the tree right over my head.

Finally, heading home, I stopped on Victoria Road bridge to watch cliff swallows swooping underneath. Few birds are more graceful. While taking pictures of sun reflected on the water, I unwittingly captured two swallows wheeling through a frame.





Then I went down and photographed a cluster of their mud nests under the bridge. If you look closely you'll see little white spots in two of the openings. Cliff swallows have white foreheads, the function of which is obvious to me. It prevents an incoming bird from crashing into the one sitting there.

Comments

[ahira.livejournal.com]

Sometimes I still struggle with an underlying concept that going for walks—like writing, drawing and so many other things I like to do—is an unproductive diversion, that I have no right to waste my days doing such things. Consequently I tend to waste hours playing computer games instead. I feel this way often, yet I've noticed that when wasting my time playing computer games or the like, time flies by, but when I am outside contemplating and birding time slows way down, and 1/2 hour feels like many hours... glad you made it outside and thanks especially for the swallow nest pic.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I feel the same way about time. Actually, I noticed after I left a 9 to 5 job that life slowed down appreciably in a way that I liked.

[ahira.livejournal.com]

I'm hoping something similiar will happen for me once school is done :)

[ciddyguy.livejournal.com]

Beautiful pics Van.

As for time and doing what you love, if walks in the woods are what you love, by all means do them. I love to walk around my neighborhood and will take the time to do so from time to time, even though I live in the city.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I will. I live in the city, too, but we have this marvellous park.

[ciddyguy.livejournal.com]

A great place I used to walk all the time as I used to live over there was the complete south slope of a major hill in Seattle, seeing the views of Puget Sound to the West, Capitol Hill to the East and downtown Seattle to the South. I'd be gone for 2 hours easily in the evenings during the warm weather. I never took the same route each time.

Now I have a different neighborhood in Seattle to explore. :-)

[mattycub.livejournal.com]

I struggle with that anxious feeling of needing to be productive quite often myself. Working an intense job where high levels of productivity are expected makes it especially hard to turn off even when I'm not there. But I try to talk myself down from that anxiousness when I can by reminding myself that not everything valuable can be measured by timelines and output and milestones, and that no one is doing the measuring but myself anyway.

Glad you took a deep breath and enjoyed the rest of your quiet afternoon.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

That high level of productivity is something society has taught us is necessary for our lives to be meaningful. I don't believe that anymore, but I still catch myself in feelings of guilt whenever I'm doing something that's worthwhile to me but not necessarily productive. It's a pervasive belief. I wonder if it's a carryover from Calvinism.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Ian. I was an outstanding day, and I was happy to be able to share it with you in a small way.

[kwangjse.livejournal.com]

Whoa...indigo bunting is a pretty bird!

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Isn't he? He often looks black against the sky, but get him in the right light and he's spectacular. I see you don't have them in most of California. Here we have small songbirds in spades.

[queenmomcat.livejournal.com]

Under ordinary circumstances, I'm of the impression that picking plants in public parks is a nono (in the wild, it /can/ be if the plant's a rare one) However, mint being what it is, the park attendants are probably saying "Here, pick some more! Wait...we'll all help; want a bag? a pickup truck?"

Oh, yeah, and the pictures are lovely too.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Heavens, I would never pick anything rare! I fully agree with you in most cases, but as this is not a conservation park. It's a municipal park set aside as a common area, essentially for people to live in. Some responsible use is defensible. I doubt that the city would venture to deter children living in an apartment complex from picking wildflowers growing along the river, or adults like me, who have no other access to the land, from occasionally harvesting edible wild plants like nettles or wild ginger. It's a thin line between what kind of use is responsible and what is not. Unfortunately the more sensitive wildflowers like trillium and bloodroot are virtually absent from the near shore of the river. Obviously people have picked them all. I was heartbroken for a couple of days last fall when someone carelessly hacked down a tall stand of Jerusalem artichokes in flower. I don't see any reasonable way of preventing this. Neither the city police nor department of parks would have time. The good news is, the other side of the river is far removed from any residential areas and is frequented only by joggers and cyclists, so the more delicate plants are more abundant there.

I didn't think you would pick rare plants...

[queenmomcat.livejournal.com]

I was thinking more along the lines of 'while there may be many plants which ought not to be picked, mint is /not/ among them'

It's always an odd feeling to be separated from one's other half (or one's really really really good friend); whenever Stephe leaves for Vermont I keep wanting to tell him things, only to realize he's 1500 miles away.

Re: I didn't think you would pick rare plants...

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

I'm getting accustomed to the distance, but some days the feeling rears up and bites me.

[leafshimmer.livejournal.com]

Ah, Nimue, the ageless Sorceress, lures you further and further into the thrall of the Summer's dreamtide... THIS time, She allowed you to return to show us all the wonders that were revealed to you in the thriving forest and stream.

It is strangely comforting to know that the ants derive nourishment from lazy humans who can't take the 5 seconds to shove their trash into a bag and deposit properly in a waste receptacle.

I love it when I think of a lover when I'm in the midst of a specific situation I know he would enjoy. Even though it sometimes gives a bittersweet edge to the experience, it also takes me out of myself and allows me to see new textures of what I'm sensing through the memory-wight of his eyes.

hugs, Shimmer

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

Interesting you should mention lovers. I often find myself getting aroused when I'm alone somewhere outdoors: not in this municipal park, but sometimes when I venture to some isolated meadows outside the city limits.