camouflage

Liminal Time – Day 1042

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Turtle Rock – Photo: L. Weikel

Liminal Time

Perhaps it’s the waxing moon, so close to reaching her fullness this Monday night at 7:55 p.m. Eastern Time. My walk this evening felt a bit magical, perhaps because I was out at that liminal time when the sun has set and the moon is rising and anything is possible.

Definitely Disappointed – Photo: L.Weikel

Turtle Rock & Shagbark Man

For instance, I’m not sure how many times I’ve walked past these rocks, but I can tell you I’ve never seen this Turtle stepping forward before. It took me by surprise. So much so, I had to coax Spartacus back (he was on his way to see his Wolfhound buddies) so I could take this photo. I have to wonder why I never saw this before.

But then again, just shortly down the road a piece a Shagbark Hickory tree gazed down upon me. I felt a sense of displeasure, or perhaps simply a slight scolding energy emanating from the tree. It wouldn’t have surprised me to see some spindly branches akimbo on either side, as if it had its hands on its hips.

We’re Invisible – Photo: L. Weikel

Invisible Deer

About half a mile down the road, I heard a crackle in the woods to my right. I stopped, saw nothing, but then stopped again. I chuckled. They were right there, right under my nose. The one closest to me was larger than the other two. In fact, the fawns in the back still had the faintest of white spots in their coats.

It was a marvel, actually, to appreciate just how well they were being trained to blend into their background and ‘be invisible.’ I hope they got a treat after dinner for executing this exercise so well.

Waxing Moon – Photo: L.Weikel

Waxing Moon & a September Eve

Just as we crested the hill, I caught sight of the moon rising in the multicolored layers of reflected sunset. I hope I’ll be out and the weather is clear when the moon rises on Monday. If tonight is any indication, she will appear with quite a substantial girth. Again, I wish I could zoom in better. But it’s a decent shot.

It almost seemed like every few steps I’d be tempted to take another photo. But believe it or not, I actually walked quite far between indulging my urges to capture the moment(s).

Nevertheless, I offer this photo as proof that magic definitely was in the air last night.

The last photo I wanted but didn’t take was the moon as she lit the way from behind us as we were walking along the penultimate leg of our journey. She was so bright and cast such long, dark shadows, it was almost as if a motorcycle with a brilliant headlight was chasing us home.

I urge you: try to get out and take a walk tomorrow night around 7:00 p.m. You won’t be disappointed.

Liminal Time – Photo: L.Weikel

(T-69)

Swamp Bucket – Day 1036

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Puddle Resident – Photo: L. Weikel

Swamp Bucket

Camouflage in the Swamp Bucket – Photo: L. Weikel

I walk past this little pond every time I do my ‘walk-about,’ which is the longer version of my more frequent ‘walk-around.’ The walk-about is almost, but not quite, twice as long as my walk-around and it contains a hill of a not insignificant grade. (If you haven’t walked it in a while, it can kick your behind.) The last handful of times I’ve walked past this marshy little swamp bucket, though, I’ve felt a compulsion to stop and just take in the entire milieu. Something was there; I could feel it.

The feeling literally stopped me in my tracks. Something was present. There was some sort of creature waiting for me, either hiding in the tall native grasses surrounding the pool of water or poised on the edge, in the mud, or swimming in the water itself. In order to seize upon the element of surprise, the last few times I came upon it, I consciously slowed my pace and distracted Spartacus so he was actually walking along the other side of the road.

Nope. In spite of my spidey-sense urging me to pay attention, not even a frog hopped into the water, which was surprising. At least three or four frogs managed to screech in surprise and plop into the water all along the rest of my circuit, including right outside our front door. That’s three or four per pool of creek water. Even a few puddles are charging rent now; the recent rains have produced a bumper crop of frogs.

Pay Dirt

Aah. But today my patience was rewarded.

Yes, I did still sense I might catch a creature unawares if I were stealthy enough, but what was the use? With that attitude, I almost missed it. But something tickled my brain and told me to stop once again; to drink in the entire ecosystem.

There she waits – Photo: L. Weikel

Wow. Well, the puzzle is solved. No wonder there are no frogs jumping into this particular pond. No wonder indeed.

Do you see her?

Of course, I have no idea whether she’s a she or a he, but I’m choosing to assign her my own gender, if for no other reason than I admire her skills of camouflage and stealth, her uncanny patience. The depth of instinct she embodies is profound and a little bit unnerving.

On some level, though, I’ve been sensing her presence. Finally laying eyes on her feels cool. And intimate.

And beyond that? An encouragement to trust my instincts. To know that when I sense something, I need to respect myself enough to trust that inner knowing. While I may not be able to put my finger on it right away, if I follow up and pay attention, who knows what I might discover?

(T-75)

Among Us – Day 994

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First Glimpse – Photo: L. Weikel

Among Us

It stands to reason that animals in the wild must be watching us and keeping an eye on our unpredictable movements a lot more often than we realize. They’ve lived among us long enough to know that we’re the dangerous ones. Deer, for instance, have been hunted in our area for untold generations.

Yet deer around here are almost considered pets to some people, while others continue family traditions of hunting and keep their stand-up freezers filled. I imagine it must be confusing for deer. Do they trust these noisy two-leggeds? Or should they bolt, leaping their way to safety?

It’s a decision they make at their own peril.

I think a deep preservation instinct is actually more prevalent in those animals that are a step or two on the wilder side than deer. They’re the ones who only rarely divulge their presence when we’re near them. I’m thinking about the coyotes, foxes, and bears – not to mention owls and eagles.

All Eyes On Me

During my recent walks, though? Oh, my goodness. I’ve been aware of so many pairs of eyes on me! It’s almost felt as though Spartacus and I have been receiving escorts all along our route. Over the past week or so in particular, I can confidently state that I cannot walk more than 100 yards without being able to look carefully around my surroundings and spot a pair of eyes locking with mine.

Just this past week I’ve had at least four extended conversations with young bucks, their budding antlers covered in fur. I could tell by their behavior that they know they’re ‘big boys’ and probably shouldn’t fraternize with the two legged. But it’s my experience that we’re all hard-wired to crave connection and communion.

It’s a delicate balance.

First Glance

Tonight, in spite of the rain that continued to fall sporadically throughout the day, I managed to get in a quick two mile walk. I was surprised to see ‘greeters’ all along the way. I almost felt as though many of them were turning their heads toward me and then gesturing to see if I was still coming along.

A couple seemed to literally play hide and seek with me behind a large tree. That was adorable, but I didn’t manage to get a photo of how ‘off’ they were as far as their body awareness.

Another pair, though, seemed to come into focus for me as I stared at a field I was walking past. As you can see from the photo at the top of this post, one deer was just barely visible to me as I walked past her. I don’t even know what caught my eye, but it did.

She seemed to be torn. Part of her trusted me. And yet…

Coming Into Focus

The second time I raised my iPhone to take her photo, I realized there was another deer standing quite close beside her. Neither one moved a muscle. They knew I saw them, and I knew they knew. As a result, neither they nor I moved a muscle. (What amazes me is what a good boy Spartacus is.)

It felt good for me to discern their presence. In a way it reminded me of looking at one of those engraved photos that reveal other images in them when you look at them long enough.

I may only very rarely catch a glimpse of a coyote or a fox or an owl. But the deer play with me.

While it’s sometimes disconcerting to sense that eyes are on me, watching me, from one moment to the next, I’m mostly comforted by it. I feel as if we humans are mostly woefully oblivious, and my compatriots along our walkway are simply training me to be a better neighbor.

Bingo – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-117)

Bugs – Day 991

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Meditative Bug Pose – Photo: L. Weikel

Bugs

“No bugs were harmed in the writing of this post.”

I came across this striking creature as I was sweeping our porch. For some odd reason, I’ve been noticing and appreciating the peculiar beauty of insects lately. There was something about the pristine, shiny blackness of its body armor and the way its legs come together. Its zen-like posture looked meditative to me. Even as I look at this photograph again, it reminds me of something that I can’t quite articulate.

Curious, I carefully flipped this guy over and was delighted to see the striking nature of its dramatic camouflage. Clearly, from above, this insect is designed to resemble the ‘eyes’ of a much bigger creature. In a way it looks a lot like some butterflies that employ that same natural strategy.

Cool Bug – Photo: L. Weikel

I’m guessing bugs that have eyes this big must taste especially nasty to birds. Either that or they’re simply perceived to be too large a mouthful for most of the predators that might otherwise be interested in eating them.

Anyway, true to my first sentence, I think this beetle (or whatever it was) was playing opossum. Once I turned it over so I could admire its back, it quickly scurried away, making it clear to me that it had a lot of life left to live. Or at the very least, its encounter with me was not the end of the road.

Sign of Late Summer

Last night I once again had our front door open while writing my post. Unlike several evenings before, when a blanket of silence had settled over everything and it seemed like everything in my world was holding its breath, the first katydids of the season announced their presence.

I love the jaggedy zzz zzz zzz of katydids. But alas, as we are constantly and sometimes painfully reminded, time is relentless. Their scritchety noises are a harbinger of the dog days of summer that are right around the corner.

(T-120)

Blend Into the Background – Day 680

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 Marsh Wren – Blending In; Photo: L. Weikel

Blend Into the Background

Oh my goodness. The past few evenings have been quite the shock to my system! The chilly edge to the air takes my breath away and makes me feel – I don’t know – vulnerable. And I’m not even sure I could answer if you asked me, “Vulnerable to what?” It’s a rather ineffable sense. Nevertheless, I must admit, I’m feeling a strong urge to just stop, step back, and blend into the background.

Since the death of RBG, I’ve not paid quite as much attention to the news. Actually, I don’t know if that’s exactly true. It wasn’t immediately upon her passing that I withdrew from tracking the news. It was more like 18 hours later. It was when I saw that trusting Republicans to behave with any semblance of integrity or honor was fruitless and a fool’s errand.

There is no sense of decorum being exhibited by the Republicans nor is there even the remotest attempt to honor the historic recognition of the most basic of moral consistency or responsibility to telling the truth. I guess I knew it when the Senate refused to convict and remove DT for his corrupt solicitation of Ukraine. Or at least I should have known, since they broadcast their willingness to tolerate obvious malfeasance if the purveyor of that corruption would garner them more power.

Stepping Back

I’m feeling the need to step back and blend into the background. The assaults on my fundamental belief that people will inherently do what is right in matters of grave consequence are taking their toll. I am seeing with stark clarity that the acquisition and retention of power is everything to Trump Republicans. And yes, I do see a difference between Trump Republicans and the Republicans I knew growing up – my parents, just to name two off the top of my head.

The reason for feeling I must step back at this moment is because it is crystal clear that nothing will persuade Trump Republicans to act with integrity. There is no appealing to their sense of right or wrong, their sense of decency, or even their own sense of shame over blatantly bulldozing through supposed behavioral firewalls they professed that they could be held to account over.

Nothing matters to them other than accruing and wielding power. And winning. So much winning. Who cares if it’s at the expense of their integrity? Or causes the death of fellow citizens. What a laugh.

Marsh Wren going about it’s business – Photo: L. Weikel

Stop Wasting Energy

And so, blending into the background feels appropriate at this moment. Not because I’m giving up. Not because I have any intention of running away. Rather, it’s time for me (and all of us) to stop wasting energy expecting anything from them but the most selfish and self-serving choices and actions in any given situation, especially those pertaining to power in any form. Instead, we need to gather our resources.

Don’t waste your breath arguing. Don’t waste your time trying to shame them or appeal to their sense of decency. Instead, we are best served by blending into the background and strategizing how to counter the treachery. Imagine the worst case scenarios and plan for them. For they are broadcasting their intentions loud and clear. Everything they accuse Democrats of doing and plotting is precisely their own game plan. How many times must we see this play out?

Get quiet. Take a few steps back. Instead of expressing surprise yet again at their behavior and lack of character, pay careful attention. Observe what they’re broadcasting is their intention. How do we do that? Listen to what they’re screaming that Democrats will do to subvert the election. Listen to what they repeat over and over again will happen after November 3rd. Listen to the dire predictions of armed ‘insurrection.’ Why? Because that’s their  plan. They’re broadcasting it.

So we must stop, step back, blend into the background, and prepare.

Let’s get smart and stop falling for the bullshit.

(T-431)

Pay Attention – Day 591

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“I’m a Stick” – Photo: L. Weikel

Pay Attention

“Stop!” I yelled, jarring Karl out of his reverie. We were just entering the part of our walk that approaches High Rocks, where the over-arching canopy of trees throws shade and cools us off on days of bright sunshine.

“What? What?” he asked, momentarily stopping in his tracks but looking to his left, into the woods and toward the cliffs. He started turning toward the trees, not even thinking about the fact that he was moving his feet to do so.

“Stop!” I yelped again. “Don’t move. Look down.”

“Ooooh, wow. I totally missed it,” he said, when he spied the young snake laying stock-still in the gravel.

Camouflage?

I was walking a few steps behind Karl and had noticed the characteristic swooshing ‘s’ shape of the snake as it scurried across the road. Karl narrowly missed stepping on it and probably only did so because the snake was moving so quickly. Nevertheless, it was as if the snake understood me as well as Karl did when I yelled stop, for it, too, froze in its tracks.

Curiously, it stopped its trek through the gravel and came to rest straight as a pencil. In fact, it looked like a stick or a long piece of hay (albeit slightly more brown) just laying in the road. I wonder whether this was intentional, or unique to this particular type of snake – at least, in a survival sort of way – since most snakes I’ve seen will stop mid ‘s’ curve, showing no effort to straighten itself out.

S/he did permit me to take its photo up close and personal enough to get a nice shot of its impressive tongue.

Forked Tongue! – Photo: L. Weikel

Finally, as it decided to resume its journey, I managed to catch it sssslithering its way onto the berm.

Change in Topic

I was going to write about a different animal messenger that’s been coming to me lately, but this encounter changed my mind. Something tells me I’m not alone in still needing to shed or transmute some old attitudes, beliefs, or maybe even grievances before we can step fully into manifesting our future.

Perhaps our old ways of blending in or ‘going along to get along’ just aren’t cutting it anymore. Our environments are changing. The old means of camouflage don’t work anymore. Or maybe we no longer want to fit in? That’s possible too.

Snakes teach us that sometimes we need to recognize the poisons in our environment and learn how to transmute them into something we can live with – indeed, something we can allow to pass right through us – like water or air.

An essential aspect of working with snake, though, is appreciating the need to pay attention in the first place. We don’t have to be bitten by the snake in order to learn to transmute its poisons. We can, if we watch where we’re going and pay attention to our environment, avoid the worst of the poison* by never getting bitten to begin with. That’s a different sort of transmutation. Seems to me it could be a bit gentler on our systems.

Movin’ along – Photo: L. Weikel

*Just to be clear: I’m not saying this particular snake was poisonous. I’m talking about poison in the context of snake venom in general and transmutation of poisons. Indeed, using my trusted identification website, this looks like a Northern Brownsnake,, which is non-venomous.

(T-520)

Photo That Got Away – Day 226

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Fawns from another year (in our back yard) – Photo: L. Weikel

Photo That Got Away

As soon as I walked in the door this evening, Karl was ready to take a walk. I was relieved, because I knew I needed a walk, wanted a walk, and could easily have been persuaded out of a walk.

We were just rounding the first corner of our walk-around (the shorter, 2.2 mile trek), when we heard a skittering clatter of hooves on pavement. Just ahead, as the road we were on goes straight and the road we were headed for bears right and up a hill, we saw three fawns slipping and sliding on the gravel where these two roads meet. They looked like they were on a patch of ice, their legs akimbo and their inner panic palpable.

Not Fast Enough on the Draw

I couldn’t get my phone out fast enough to get a photo, but I can assure you: they were soooooo cute. Oh my goodness.

They did manage to get themselves off the roadway and into the tangled, prickly brush at the edge of our neighbor’s property. They were hiding. Try as they might, I could see them. I knew they were there. But they were obedient to their mother’s lessons: Stay still.

There was one little one in particular that I could see peering out at me through the criss-crossed arms and legs of pricker bushes. Walking to the edge of the road to get as close as I physically could with my phone, I then zoomed in to the greatest magnification. Nevertheless, the camouflage was perfect.

I just looked at the photo moments ago. I deleted it, not realizing I would actually end up writing about the fawns. But there you have it. I honestly think you wouldn’t have been able to see the fawn, but it occurs to me right now how ridiculous it is that I didn’t give you the opportunity to try.

I gave you Cloud Goblin. I gave you a Sunset Dakini. Realistically, I should have had greater confidence in all of you and given you the chance to play “Where’s Waldo” with the fawn.

Next time!

(T-885)