November Musing - Part 3

There comes a time when autumn asks,

"What have you been doing all summer?"

Going out on a limb, and then meeting ourselves coming and going...

 

In August, my dear husband once again called my attention to something he knew I'd want to see. I quickly spied it clinging tightly to the rough wood of a standing planter box. Hidden among the clutter of old pieces of wood and blue tarp, it might easily have been overlooked if not for its brilliant green color.  Carefully observing, studying, and photographing it, I then made an attempt to grab it for a closer look. This little green tree frog depended on heightened awareness for its very survival, so when its supposed camouflage failed, it quickly switched to Plan B: speed and cover. It took me a few minutes of searching and grabbing, but finally I held it in my hand.

We were trying to settle in to what passes as a normal summer for us -maintaining our sizable yard and enjoying a number of local camping trips. But the reality is that this was not a normal summer for us. May had seen us offering some measure of long distance support for the move and settling-in of our brother-in-law near to his youngest daughter. June saw us helping to pack and move my older sister to our area from out-of-state. 

 

 And in between, we'd lived with many weeks of a major overhauling of a large slab of concrete near the back of our house. This served as a floor for both a double carport and a patio area, but it was very old, cracked, chipped, and beyond repair. After seeking expert advice, there was nothing to do but have that whole, huge slab removed and replaced with something better.

 

This brought major disruption, noise, and mess. So much for our normally quiet home...

 

 

Was it worth it? Absolutely!

To better photograph it, I set the little tree frog on a small plant near the ground, thinking I could sit down and focus right in on it.

 

Apparently, the frog had other ideas as it made a flying leap to a nearby red huckleberry bush and began climbing.

 

Several times I caught it and again placed it back on the short plant, but each time it leaped to the bush and continued its upward trek.

Finally, I just tried to photograph it wherever it was perched.

 

"Real action is in silent moments."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

I had my usual volunteer activities, some of which require more time and energy in the summer.  

 

As a volunteer beach naturalist, many hours are spent on our local beaches interacting with both children and adults who visit and would like to learn more about sea life.

 

 

As a member of the steering committee for a local nature park being developed in our area, I help with some stewardship work as well as many of the educational events we have there. The hours do add up...

 

 

"A bee is never as busy as it seems;

it's just that it can't buzz any slower."

Kin Hubbard

One thing we did not fully expect was the time involved with our church's new building project. My husband became the self-appointed "official" photographer and made at least one trip a day to the site to capture every stage of the building process.

This took nearly a year and was full of all sorts of ups and downs.

When the building was complete, we had a huge amount of landscaping to do and guess who was on that committee?

Most of what we did was required by the county, so it was not just for looks or our own satisfaction, although the results turned out well.

 

 

 

 

 

We're glad it's all done!

 

 

We did manage to go camping, as planned. Although we live in a rural area, we are not far from two major cities and the surrounding areas teem with population. Because of this and (we surmise)  the current economic conditions, to get a desired camp site with the needed or wanted hookups one really needs to make a reservation months in advance. We had reserved all of our camping sites back in January and, fortunately, we did not need to cancel any.

 

For us - even with planning and packing - getting away to the relative peace and quiet of a campground is well worth the effort. It really is getting back to the basics of simple living - relaxing, enjoying the great outdoors, cooking, eating, and sleeping.

 

 We spend little time inside, choosing to sit outside in camp chairs or taking a drive or hike to see the surrounding countryside.

 

 

We revel in the variety of life on this planet and never cease to be amazed at how well each is adapted to its particular niche.

 

 We breath it all in and find ourselves refreshed and revitalized again and again.

 

"The point is that when I see a sunset or a waterfall or something, for a split second it's so great, because for a little bit I'm out of my brain, and it's got nothing to do with me. I'm not trying to figure it out, you know what I mean? And I wonder if I can somehow find a way to maintain that mind stillness." - Chris Evans.

 The tree frog continued to climb and leap - from one slender branch to the next. It seemed very odd to me that it would choose this spindly bush over the sturdy plant below until it dawned on me - this was a TREE frog. It simply chose the path it was best equipped to deal with.

 

When I find myself overwhelmed with the myriad facets of life - the worries, frustrations, burdens, pain, grief, busyness, and constant changes, I always seek some measure of solitude.

 

 

While digging weeds, I can work out the solution to a problem.

 

 

While walking the beach, I can contemplate ultimate change.

 

 

While standing among trees, I can recognize my true size and importance.

 

 

When my mind is a-swirl and my body racing, instinctively I know what I need - solitude and silence.

 

 

Through these, the ultimate power of life and love and all that is speaks volumes and brings me back to who I am.

 

"When you lose touch with inner stillness,

you lose touch with yourself.

When you lose touch with yourself,

you lose yourself in the world.

Your innermost sense of self, of who you are,

is inseparable from stillness.

This is the I Am that is deeper than name and form."

~Eckhart Tolle

 

 

“Be still, and know that I am God."

Psalm 46:10

Tents and a Bucket

It had been a summer of darkness and light. First, the worms. We thought that by removing all the Styrofoam-like egg cases from tree branches and lopping off twigs with the early webs we’d gained a leg up on their summer’s advance. We thought wrong.

(Dark section of this tree's trunk is solid caterpillers.)

Soon we were surrounded, as the native woods endured the first round of attack and the familiar canopy of shade began to disappear. Having stripped the giant Alders, these voracious tent caterpillars moved on to new territory. For days, standing in silence at the edge of the yard, we heard the dropping of small bodies, or their droppings - we never knew for sure which - like the pitter-patter of a gentle rain. Seeing cherries standing out like rounded bright red sore thumbs on a nearly leafless tree and gorgeous full-blown roses on naked stems, I knew we were defeated. My husband swept the porch numerous times each day and resorted to spray, but it was a case of simply letting nature run its course. Our yard became noticeable sunnier.

Then, the moths. After a brief respite during a staggered pupation period, a new wave appeared.

Each evening brought a flurry of drab, furry brown bodies beating themselves to death on every lighted window, door and skylight in sight. And so, an equally bright idea formed in the back of my husband’s mind and he set out to fight fire with fire, so to speak. He concocted a moth trap with a metal shop light clamped to a wooden lath, which in turn was clamped to a white plastic bucket full of soapy water. Worked like a charm! Left on all night long, the light did its job of attracting the moths, so that by morning he was dumping a good-sized army of dead moths. We did not win the war, mind you, just leveled the playing field a bit.

Lymantria

Enter, the frog. A small tree frog lives in an ivied basket on the porch railing near our kitchen window. It comes and goes as it pleases and I like to think it is the same one each year, although it probably is not. Since the moth trap was on the end of this railing, we noticed the frog leaving its basket and lurking about as we watched the mass mothicide each evening. We observed one night as he scaled upward - his delicate, splayed toes, outstretched legs, and rotund little body silhouetted against the backlit white bucket. Reaching the top, he crept along the narrow edge and wedged himself into the small space between the clamp and the lath. I worried that he might leap at a moth, flinging himself into the frothy water below, but he was wiser than that. He waited patiently, casually picking off the odd moth that ascended up the lath by foot, wings vibrating. In the darkness of night, this frog was now highly vulnerable, waiting alone under a bright light to fill its belly. But it was an opportunist, took its chances and depended, at least for the time being, on this light for its livelihood.

 I think this is dangerous, risky business for a frog. How could he do that? On the other hand, life is a dangerous, risky business. How could he not?

But everything exposed by the light becomes visible,

for it is light that makes everything visible.

This is why it is said:

“Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead.

and Christ will shine on you.”

Be very careful, then, how you live -
not as unwise but as wise,
making the most of every opportunity,
because the days are evil.
Therefore do not be foolish,
but understand what the Lord’s will is.

Ephesians 5:13 - 17

You are my lamp, O Lord;

the Lord turns my darkness into light.

With your help I can advance against a troop;

with my God I can scale a wall.

2 Samuel 22:29 - 30

Moth picture file from Wikimedia Commons

Wet, Wierd, & Wonderful

Cher-ib-it...cher-ib-it...cher-ib-it rings through the woods - the song of the little Pacific Tree frogs. Their scientific name means “deceptive locust” and I think that fits them well. Less vociferous, but also becoming more active, are Northern Red-legged frogs and several kinds of salamanders. To the curious and observant, fresh water ponds will reveal their wonders. Along shallow edges, among pond weeds and grass stems, clumps of clear jelly-like egg masses appear. The adult animals may or may not stay around, but their eggs and young require water to live and develop. These eggs are interesting to watch because, being clear, it is easy to see the young grow inside. Blending in with their surroundings, they are less likely to be seen and disturbed or destroyed.

The previous owners of our house in Texas had filled a small cement pond with soil and planted giant Elephant Ear plants. When I discovered this, I dug the plants up and moved them, filled the pond with water and enjoyed the new landscaping. Little did I know. One evening, new sounds drew us into the backyard and we discovered an amazing sight. A large crowd of toads perched around the edge of the pond and filled much of it. They had come to mate, filling the air with their songs and the water with strings of crystal eggs. Somehow, from who knows how far away, they had sensed this new source of water and traveled to it. Amazingly, nature always finds a way.

Working in the yard here in the summer, I come upon slug and snail eggs quite often. It took me some time to figure out what these hidden stashes of tiny marbles were that I found under rocks, slabs of bark, etc. At first, I childishly enjoyed popping them in my fingers. Then, I tried putting them in a jar and waiting for them to hatch, which they never did because I couldn’t duplicate the particular conditions they needed. The parent knows where to find these conditions though, and their numbers prove that they are more successful than not. As a gardener, I feel I am always battling slugs, but I have to admit that I have a grudging sort of respect for them. They’re like the Energizer Bunny - they just keep on goin’...

Lurking about are numerous types of garter snakes, which take a bad rap, but are quite harmless. Their young, born alive in August and September, are charmingly earthworm-sized. However, I will never forget the day I heard the most blood-curdling, high-pitched shriek I’ve ever heard. It sounded like a small animal in pain; I tried to picture what it might be as I raced toward it. The sound led me to the pond, where I got the shock of my life. The shriek came from a frog, of all things, that was firmly gripped in the mouth of a snake. I usually believe in letting nature take its course, but the sight was too much for me. Grabbing the snake behind the head, I pulled on the frog until it finally let go. I don’t know whether the frog lived or not, but I felt better.

All of these have lived on this earth far longer than we have, so you know they’re sturdy survivors. They all have a purpose here, even though we may not understand exactly what it is sometimes. As for the snakes - they also eat slugs.

How many are your works, O Lord!
In wisdom you made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.

When you send your Spirit,
they are created,
and you renew the face of the earth.
Psalm 104:24 & 30