The Birds and the Beads: Ruminations on Routines

There's something to be said about having a routine. It's a type of security blanket that provides structure to a daily lifestyle and allows one to safely let the mind wander because whatever you're physically doing is rote. How many dreams have been dreamt while brushing your teeth, pumping those legs on the elliptical, or jogging across the country?

Well, maybe not for Forrest!

Our COVID-19 global pandemic has tossed some major wrenches in people's routines. For many, this has been the last thing to worry about as the stress of lost jobs and income, separation from family, exhausting essential work, illness, and even death of loved ones entered our lives. I've heard somewhere that "we're all in the same hurricane, just in different boats," and that rings true to both Bruce and me. We're blessed to be able to play the role asked of us by others suffering much more deeply us: stay home, stay safe, don't add to the overall social burden. We've never felt so lucky to be living on a fixed income, and have vowed to be as low-key and unobtrusive as possible, offering and giving support as much as we can.

Now throw in having a 13-year-old moderately-arthritic dog, Carly, who needs a daily walk (albeit short; one mile tops). Normally, I walk the neighborhood with friends Julie and Glen. As Carly's arthritis has worsened, I would take Carly on a short walk first, and then meet up with Julie and Glen to take a longer walk. I quickly realized it was too easy to blow off Real Walk #2 after the Carly Meander #1 ("think I'm done, have fun on your walk!" texts to Julie were common).

Much easier to jump into the hot tub

One day in Julie and Glen's absence, I decided to try walking Woodland Lake Park, an oasis in the heart of Pinetop-Lakeside. A one-mile paved trail circles Woodland Lake, where families picnic, kids fish, joggers jog, walkers walk, and the mix of wildlife changes daily. Ospreys soar overhead, competing for the same fish swimming cormorants and shoreline anglers seek. Geese and ducks keep their guard up as they shuttle babies from shore to water, and birds like purple martins, Lewis's woodpeckers, western bluebirds, white-breasted nuthatches, and so many more fly within the trees and over the water, snapping up insects and seemingly flying for the sheer joy of it. I tend to avoid the park during the summer as it gets heavy on people, but it is a unique, delightful place. By going there this one time, I shook things up.

I found it enjoyable, peaceful, and relaxing. Two needs were met as well: 1) Carly gets a decent one-miler in with lots of sniffing and exploring; and 2) a longer walk for me is a given, since I'm there and can't rationalize leaving until I circle around a couple extra times (while Carly lounges in the shaded car). It was bit of a shake-up at first for all involved when I started going back a few times each week. My daily connection with Julie changed to every other day, an adjustment for both of us. Bruce, in charge of breakfast in our household, had to shift its timing to allow for my early departure to the park and also for my near two-hour absence from the house and our morning chores. So this change not only affected me -- and Carly -- but others as well. I guess it's a certainty that uncertain times force change in some form. This tiny example showed me that embracing change, which all of us involved did, is much easier than fighting it. It's good practice for whatever more serious changes might be in store for us in the future, right?

A typical sight!

In the beginning, it was a bit tough to take the extra time to pack up the dog, her walking gear, little bottle of water, and other paraphernalia into the car, and drive 12 minutes (yes, I timed it) to the park, rather than simply walk out the front door and venture down our road. But I persevered, and now I find that I look forward to our morning park walks.

It's nice enough to see the "early" crowd of walkers on a regular basis, as we nod "hello" as we pass each other. However, the biggest reward is observing the near-daily changes in wildlife activity as late winter turned to spring, and spring to summer. One day there were 8 ospreys flying overhead, fishing. The next day, none. But then a few came back, and usually there are at least one or two every morning. One day there are 20 cormorants, the next day only a couple. Where'd the others go, I wonder? Migrating through? I located two Lewis's woodpecker nest cavities after seeing adults swoop in to feed their young. One time, a Lewis's was foraging along the muddy shoreline picking out bugs like a sandpiper; I had never seen that behavior before. And look at those goslings! They've grown so much in the last few days! A few weeks into this new routine, I brought my camera, took some photos, and I was hooked! Looking for that great picture forced me to sharpen my observation skills, and that's only enhanced my experiences at this wondrous piece of the world.

A Double-crested Cormorant, one of many, perch on a branch to dry off feathers.
Look at that blue eye!

Lewis's Woodpecker acting as expected

Lewis's Woodpecker acting unexpectedly like a sandpiper, picking out bugs in the water.

One of many ospreys waiting for the right moment to nab a fish.

I always enjoy watching both purple martins and violet-green swallows zoom into multiple holes in a standing dead tree out on the shoreline. I thought I got a decent photo of the most common, a violet-green swallow, only to find out when I worked on my photos at home, it was the less common tree swallow, cool! Killdeer skitter along the shoreline and great blue herons solemnly stare into the water no doubt mentally visualizing fish to appear. I happened to catch one heron that had caught an enormous bullhead; I have no idea how it would ever consume it. I now look forward to whatever each visit may bring. I've amassed a very nice portfolio of halfway-decent photos of Woodland Lake Park's wild creatures, and more can be found here.

Surprise, it's a tree swallow!

Hen mallard with ducklings.

Awwww, geez.

At least three Canada goose families have made Woodland part of their feeding grounds.
I'm very curious as to where they're nesting!

Great Blue Heron conjuring up a fish.

And one with an actual fish. How does that thing get down that skinny neck???

Killdeer, a plover that is named from its sharp "kill-DEER!" whistle.

Ah, got that purple iridescence on this Purple Martin.
So often these beauties just look black in photographs.

So is this new reality changing your routines? For the most part, I have opened my eyes and heart to absorb a different world. It's not scary, it's not stressful. It's just change. Sometimes, while there are benefits of sticking to a routine, there are also benefits to shaking things up. New sights and sounds expand the brain, and I for one am okay with that. I now wonder: what's next???