When I returned to New York from my summer travels, I went for a morning walk in Riverside Park along the Hudson River. As I walked along, I looked down and saw a round fat fluorescent yellow fuzzy caterpillar undulating her way south while I was striding north. We passed, me careful not to step on her, and her apparently oblivious to me and minding her own business, but we were both on the same path.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Bonding with Nature: Part 5—St. Louis—Domesticated Animals
Dogs: In July, I took the dog tour of St. Louis, visiting my friends. I greatly enjoyed the company of a beautiful small black sweetheart of a standard poodle who rides skateboards and sits in my lap; a super-friendly golden retriever who loves to play ball; two rhodesian ridgebacks, one of whom jumped up and kissed me as I entered the house (or scratched above my lip, if you want to be literal); and a super-cute and beautiful and playful Tibetan terrier—my friends call her “a diva”—who jumps hurdles and plays on a see-saw and guards her territory with great attentiveness.
African Grey Parrot: I was out in the pool with my friends David and Alexandra and their daughter Scarlet. David had also brought out their African Grey parrot and placed him in his travelling cage close by the pool, so the whole family was there. We were talking about education, and David said, “You can find anything on the Internet these days.” An authoritative, commanding adult voice from outside the pool says, “Such as?”
Yes, it was the parrot, and apparently he does such things all the time.
He also dances to his favorite songs, and has a vast repertoire of tricks. At one point he was sitting on David’s right arm about a foot away from the cat David was petting with his right hand, all completely at ease with the situation and focused on the topic of conversation.
When I stood to leave at the front door, the bird called out cheerily from the other end of the house, “Good-bye!”
African Grey Parrot: I was out in the pool with my friends David and Alexandra and their daughter Scarlet. David had also brought out their African Grey parrot and placed him in his travelling cage close by the pool, so the whole family was there. We were talking about education, and David said, “You can find anything on the Internet these days.” An authoritative, commanding adult voice from outside the pool says, “Such as?”
Yes, it was the parrot, and apparently he does such things all the time.
He also dances to his favorite songs, and has a vast repertoire of tricks. At one point he was sitting on David’s right arm about a foot away from the cat David was petting with his right hand, all completely at ease with the situation and focused on the topic of conversation.
When I stood to leave at the front door, the bird called out cheerily from the other end of the house, “Good-bye!”
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Bonding with Nature: Part 4—Missouri
A Butterfly: I was almost run over by a butterfly walking the streets of St. Louis—a big black-and-yellow butterfly flew straight at my head. I ducked, and then thought, “What? Did I just dodge a butterfly?” And laughed. And watched it flit all around. Stay with me, I thought.
Another Rabbit: As I walked the same St. Louis neighborhood, I saw a little brown rabbit in the grass between the sidewalk and the street. He froze at the sight of me. I squatted down a few feet away, and since I didn’t have a cat to scare the rabbit, I decided to just wait, breathe deeply, relax, and let the rabbit know, I just intended to be good company. The rabbit loosened up, hopped around a little, came a bit closer, and we shared a little corner of the earth for a time. Then a car whizzed by and scared the rabbit off.
Damesflies, spiders, butterflies: On a lake in Missouri out at Innsbrook, I paddled a kayak one morning. A spider crawled up on the bow right on the center line; then a little closer to me, landed a damesfly on the same center line. A couple of butterflies flitted around on the sides. Escorts. The damesfly kept returning after the others left. In the morning light it looked jet black. It flew close and lit on the kayak where I could watch it closely. It was smaller than a dragonfly with 4 wings, but right on top of one another, not spread out like on a dragonfly, and with a shorter, smaller, stick-like body. Later that day, I was floating on the lake, lying on my back on a raft, and the damesfly came back. This time he was a shimmering, shining, midnight royal blue—my favorite color—the color of the sky at a particular time of night. He lit on my stomach, and I watched him for a long time. He flew off, and came back with his mate. One’s tail curled under, and the other mounted on top, latching on to the space between the head and the tail, with its own tail straight out. The one on bottom looked black, and now the one on top was black with 2 turquoise blue patches—one on the head and one on the thorax-area. They mated on top of my stomach for a long time; flew off; came back; off and on, all afternoon. They looked like Sanskrit when they were together.
Paddlefish: Meanwhile, on the same lake, kayaking the same morning, about 10 feet from my boat, a huge fish jumped straight up out of the water. It was about 4 feet tall and very thick with a huge paddle-shaped bill. It looked prehistoric. “What was that?” I paddled back as fast as I could. As I floated that afternoon, my only concern was whether that fish would jump up underneath me. It never did, but it did jump all around. There was more than one fish. All over the lake, huge fish with paddlebills would leap high in the air. I watched them all weekend, and asked a man who was kayaking by the shore what they were. He said they were paddlefish, and they were stocked in these lakes because they were bottom feeders and kept the lakes clean, and they were also sources for caviar. According to Wikipedia, the American Paddlefish is the Missouri State Aquatic Animal.
Another Rabbit: As I walked the same St. Louis neighborhood, I saw a little brown rabbit in the grass between the sidewalk and the street. He froze at the sight of me. I squatted down a few feet away, and since I didn’t have a cat to scare the rabbit, I decided to just wait, breathe deeply, relax, and let the rabbit know, I just intended to be good company. The rabbit loosened up, hopped around a little, came a bit closer, and we shared a little corner of the earth for a time. Then a car whizzed by and scared the rabbit off.
Damesflies, spiders, butterflies: On a lake in Missouri out at Innsbrook, I paddled a kayak one morning. A spider crawled up on the bow right on the center line; then a little closer to me, landed a damesfly on the same center line. A couple of butterflies flitted around on the sides. Escorts. The damesfly kept returning after the others left. In the morning light it looked jet black. It flew close and lit on the kayak where I could watch it closely. It was smaller than a dragonfly with 4 wings, but right on top of one another, not spread out like on a dragonfly, and with a shorter, smaller, stick-like body. Later that day, I was floating on the lake, lying on my back on a raft, and the damesfly came back. This time he was a shimmering, shining, midnight royal blue—my favorite color—the color of the sky at a particular time of night. He lit on my stomach, and I watched him for a long time. He flew off, and came back with his mate. One’s tail curled under, and the other mounted on top, latching on to the space between the head and the tail, with its own tail straight out. The one on bottom looked black, and now the one on top was black with 2 turquoise blue patches—one on the head and one on the thorax-area. They mated on top of my stomach for a long time; flew off; came back; off and on, all afternoon. They looked like Sanskrit when they were together.
Paddlefish: Meanwhile, on the same lake, kayaking the same morning, about 10 feet from my boat, a huge fish jumped straight up out of the water. It was about 4 feet tall and very thick with a huge paddle-shaped bill. It looked prehistoric. “What was that?” I paddled back as fast as I could. As I floated that afternoon, my only concern was whether that fish would jump up underneath me. It never did, but it did jump all around. There was more than one fish. All over the lake, huge fish with paddlebills would leap high in the air. I watched them all weekend, and asked a man who was kayaking by the shore what they were. He said they were paddlefish, and they were stocked in these lakes because they were bottom feeders and kept the lakes clean, and they were also sources for caviar. According to Wikipedia, the American Paddlefish is the Missouri State Aquatic Animal.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Bonding with Nature: Part 3—Colorado
Flickers in Ft. Collins: My friends Pat and Michael have two flicker houses under the eaves of their house, and the flickers have babies. The flickers have lived there longer than they have—they came with the house. Every time we sat out on the deck to eat, we watched the flickers feed their babies, fly in and out of their home, and watch us. Parallel universes.
Big hummingbirds in the Southern Rockies: We visited another friend in the Southern Rockies, who lived high in the Ponderosa pines on rocky red dirt land overlooking valleys and mountains. The largest hummingbirds I’ve ever seen darted in and out of the pines and sipped at the feeders she hung all through the trees around her house. They took their time and moved slower than other hummingbirds. The air was thin and clean and fresh; time was leisurely; and we lived in another dimension.
Big hummingbirds in the Southern Rockies: We visited another friend in the Southern Rockies, who lived high in the Ponderosa pines on rocky red dirt land overlooking valleys and mountains. The largest hummingbirds I’ve ever seen darted in and out of the pines and sipped at the feeders she hung all through the trees around her house. They took their time and moved slower than other hummingbirds. The air was thin and clean and fresh; time was leisurely; and we lived in another dimension.
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