Sometimes it’s all I can do not to just collapse into doom and gloom. I know that’s true for so many of us, watching from afar as chaos unfolds in Ukraine. We’re essentially helpless to stop the carnage. Sure, we can donate to organizations that can help the Ukrainians directly, either by providing food, clothing, shelter, transportation, and even defensive protection or by signing petitions, showing up in person at embassies or elsewhere – in other words, engaging in peaceful protest.
But then we’re confronted with insanity. How do you counter a leader who is muzzling his own people, shutting down all news organizations other than those spouting state-sanctioned propaganda, and even forcing his soldiers to drag around mobile crematoria that will clean up the evidence of Russian deaths, keeping his people ‘back home’ in the dark.
And we all know the tenterhooks the world is on now that we’re seeing shelling of Europe’s largest nuclear facility. Shelling a nuclear facility? What fresh hell is this madman aiming to create? And why would he shell a nuclear plant so close to his own border?
Today’s Fox – Photo: L. Weikel
Shift In Focus
There’s just too much unhinged behavior to even contemplate at the moment.
So I want to share with you the sweet sighting I had today as I walked. Nice little fox, wouldn’t you say?
I’ve tried to make it bigger, but it was still a stretch for my iPhone.
I also saw at least five red-shouldered hawks. I got a photo of one of them, but it’s hard to pick the bird out because it swooped down and against the backdrop of the trees at the edge of the field. If I could translate the ‘live’ action of iPhone’s live photos into the blog, I wouldn’t hesitate to post it. But I can’t.
Finally, Karl and I saw at least 28 turkeys cross the road ahead of us. Crossing from a field into the woods for the evening, where they’re undoubtedly roosting this minute, we counted at a minimum 28 birds. Amazing. And what an abundance of blessings.
Sorry – no photo of the turkeys we saw tonight. I couldn’t get close enough. But here’s one of other turkeys we’ve encountered.
Oh my goodness, I was visited or buzzed by, or simply graced with a sighting of, so many different creatures today! Some days I find myself wondering how I could possibly be so lucky as to live where I come into contact with these wild beings every single day. Today – well, today I just received gifts galore.
There were the usual suspects: squirrels (am I really counting them as gifts? Hmmm), cardinals, wrens, sparrows, mourning doves, chickadees, and nuthatches.
But then I took a walk with a friend and – weren’t we not only buzzed by a hawk, which clearly was a Red-tail, but must have been a juvenile because its red tail feathers were not red when viewed from underneath. And this raptor definitely flew directly above us.
They then called in their friends because within a few moments, we were graced with at least five hawks and a couple of peace eagles (vultures) to boot.
Circled directly overhead several times – Photo: L. Weikel
A Murder, Too
A true murder of crows (there had to have been at least a dozen) flew overhead at one point, and several took up a variety of perspectives from nearby trees and simply hurled epithets at us. Perhaps they were loving messages, I suppose. It’s hard to tell sometimes when a crow groks at you.
Shortly thereafter, I was driving home and what did I see in the field beside road? Only a bazillion turkeys. Such a gift! Indeed, as I stated at the beginning of this short post, today I was showered with gifts galore.
I had an interesting evolutionary experience yesterday. I underwent a 180 degree attitude shift as a result of a most unexpected encounter.
Yesterday afternoon, I ran out to the grocery store to pick up a few items. As I made my way home, navigating the puddles of rainwater accumulating on the asphalt and feeling the weight of the creeping fog that matched my mood all too well, I found myself behind a Bucks County Transport Company bus, it’s blinking yellow light caroming off the droplets of water suspended in midair.
The bus had slowed to a stop to allow a neighbor’s disabled brother to disembark, backpack clutched to his chest, his steps carefully measured so as not to lose his balance. His sister, a person I consider to be a passing acquaintance (quite literally, since we really only know each other from when she and her husband jog by us as we take our walks), was standing just up the driveway, waiting to greet him with a wide smile and open arms.
I felt so privileged in that moment to witness such unadulterated and spontaneous love and kindness.
A Moment Disrupted
My appreciation of that moment was jarred out of place by the revving of an engine immediately behind me. Looking in my rearview mirror, I saw a massive pickup truck looming over me, pulled up so close that its headlights were barely visible. It revved its engine again, and I could sense that it wanted to swing out into the oncoming lane and pass both me and the bus ahead of me, but was being forced to stay behind us by approaching traffic.
The impatience was palpable. The judgment, too.
But the bus resumed its route just as the oncoming car went by, and sealing the pickup’s fate of having to remain behind us was the approach of a second car in the opposing lane.
Just down a piece, my road splits off from the main thoroughfare. The bus bore left, remaining on the primary road, while I took the offshoot leading to my home. Regrettably, the gigantic pickup followed me. It continued ‘up my butt’ until I pulled straight into my driveway just to get out of its way. Unsurprisingly, its engine gunned as the impediment to its haste (yours truly) was removed. It tore down my road, far exceeding the 30 mile an hour limit.
It Must Be the Season
As I started writing this post, I realize that the attitude that clicked into gear in my head at that moment was not all that far off from something that happened last year.
You guessed it. When the pickup revved its mag engine yet again and sped down my road, I just had to see where this jerk was going. I backed out onto my road and started following the truck. We went about three quarters of a mile, with me keeping a decent enough distance behind that I was in no danger of being perceived as following. I saw where the truck coasted through a stop sign and turned off onto another road, but as I approached that same stop sign a flock of about 12 turkeys burst out from the left side of the road, crossed right in front of me, and landed pell-mell on the wooded bank above me.
Well, I could not let this opportunity pass. I stopped the car, turned on my 4-ways, and got out, all the while talking to the turkeys and thanking them for the gift of their presence. I told them how much more fun it was to be encountering them than chasing after some jerk.
Even More Gifts
As I took the photo above, I heard a couple muted gobbles and turned back to where the dozen had emerged. I was astounded to see at least another two dozen turkeys running through the leaves, down the bank on the opposite side and splashing through the creek that runs parallel to the road. They were running, half flying, and just making a total ruckus.
I was enchanted. I’ve never seen so many turkeys in one place.
Suddenly, all the turkeys that had burst out in front of me, crossing the road and breaking my determined chase after the impatient pickup started flying back across the road to return to their flock. I took a video, but it’s mostly of me swirling and twirling about, trying to catch them as they took off all around me. It was amazing and they had me laughing out loud. And the aerodynamic skills of these hefty birds (check out that photo) were, umm, comical to say the least.
And so it was that a 180 degree shift in attitude was the gift Turkey – actually a whole enormous flock of them – brought me yesterday. The delight they brought me was a reminder to focus on the love I’d just witnessed at my neighbor’s home.
Funny though – while it didn’t serve me to focus on the unconsciousness and impatience of the bully pickup, I do send it gratitude for leading me to a reminder of what’s important. Without it, I would’ve missed that remarkable encounter.
