The Marsh Project Week #33

Starting Friday evening, the skies opened up and it rained, and it rained, and it rained, and then it rained some more, and it didn't really stop raining until Saturday evening.  Friday afternoon I came home from work, took a look at the weather forecast and the sky, and decided I had a few hours before the rain showed up- and an hour later, I was scurrying back towards my car, sopping wet and hoping that my phone and camera were not getting drenched inside my backpack.

Finally the rain stopped, and after receiving notification that the trails were once again open, I headed out this afternoon to see if anything would come out to enjoy the cooler weather.  The skies were still overcast and the trails were muddy, but phone and camera had both survived.  I wasn't the only one who was in the mood for a hike; I saw a few people and quite a bit of wildlife.  As I reached the boardwalk portion of the trail, some people coming the other way informed me that there was a heron standing very close to the boardwalk, and sure enough- not only was there a great blue heron, but an osprey landed momentarily on the top of a tree right near the boardwalk, then took off again.

The green tree frogs were out in force.  As usual, once I saw one, I saw several, including one that popped out at me as I walked slowly down the boardwalk.  Usually these little frogs pick green stems or leaves to rest on, and they blend in so well you can walk by several and not see anything unless you are purposefully looking- but this frog picked a contrasting background.

I also saw this very large spider.  Honestly, I am not really a spider person- I respect the role they play in the ecosystem, but I've walked into many a web on the trail and had the occasional unsuspecting spider end up crawling around in my hair or on the back of my shirt as a result of my unintentional web destruction.  Spider ID is not something I've mastered, but I'm guessing that this big spider might be a kind of wolf spider.   Unlike the tree frog, the spider blended in very well to its surroundings, and if I'd been walking quickly I would have walked right by it without realizing it was even there.

The rain had also brought the mushrooms out- the log these fungi were growing out of was surrounded by poison ivy, and while I admire spiders even though they're not my favorite, I've had too many bad run-ins with the PI- so I took the best photo I could get from a respectful distance. It seems to be an unwritten rule somewhere that the really good fungi must be surrounded by a impenetrable wall of poison ivy.

As I left the large blind and headed back towards the trailhead and my car, I heard a rustling to my left.  When I turned and looked, I saw three raccoons- two on the ground and one about six feet up in a tree. All three raccoons turned and watched me watching them.  After a minute or so, the raccoon in the tree resumed climbing upward, and the raccoons on the ground scampered away.

Seen on the trails: green heron, great blue heron, snowy egret, great egret, belted kingfisher, osprey,  yellow-crowned night heron, scissor-tailed flycatcher, wild turkey, Eastern phoebe, red bellied woodpecker, downy woodpecker, common green darner, common whitetail, monarch butterfly, Gulf fritillary, variegated fritillary, American snout, green tree frog, wolf spider, gilled mushrooms, horned passalus beetle, armadillo, raccoon.

The Marsh Project Week #32

It's Labor Day weekend and it's cooling off! It was threatening rain in the morning with overcast skies, so it was slightly humid on my hike earlier this morning- but several times a cool breeze blew through, and when that happened I stood there, enjoying the cooler air and that ever so faint whiff of autumn.  The weather forecast for the next several days doesn't go near 100 degrees, and I'm happy about that.  

I had hoped to see some snakes on my hike; as I started down the trail, a couple coming the other direction said they had seen a diamondback water snake and had photos to prove it, but the only snake I saw was what I think was likely a cottonmouth, moving through the water at a distance on one of the ponds along the boardwalk.  I attempted a photo but got nothing but so-far-away- it-looks-like-a-snake-but-probably-impossible-to-commit-to-ID.  The green tree frogs were out, however, hiding in plain sight by blending in on green stems and leaves at the marsh wildlife blind. 

The number and variety of dragonflies is decreasing- the Eastern pondhawks are still out, as are the common whitetails and the common green darners.  The slaty skimmers and great blue skimmers are hanging on, but I'm definitely seeing fewer of them than I was a few weeks ago.  Several days ago the common green darners were out in force, not only flying around but settling and hanging from branches in one small area on the trail.  Today, however, almost none of them wanted to take a break long enough for a photograph.  

I sat at the large blind for awhile, enjoying the cool breeze that was coming through, and listening to the rustling amongst the lily pads.  Whatever was under there did not feel inclined to show itself.  The common green darners were flying around, and I could hear birds chirping in the vegetation, but no butterflies, birds, turtles, snakes, or mammals wanted to show themselves today.  A few days ago I sat and watched a red eared slider climb on top of one of the lily pads, but it did not stick around after I moved to attempt a photo and made too much noise.  

I didn't see much on this hike, but every time I go out I try to look for at least one thing that is new and different, and on this adventure a small orangish-red fungus growing on a dead tree trunk off the boardwalk caught my eye. I couldn't reach it to verify my thought that it probably had pores underneath instead of gills, or to get any other photos or identifying information.  My rosegill fungus from a few weeks ago has almost disintegrated away.  

I did hear (and briefly spot) a few woodpeckers.  Other trail sightings: Eastern tiger swallowtail, Dion skipper, monarch, Eastern giant swallowtail, red admiral, common green darner, common whitetail, blue dasher, Eastern pondhawk, variegated frittilary, wood duck, great blue heron, Summer tanager, nine-banded Armadillo, common wood nymph, sad underwing moth, green heron, little blue heron, sora, cottonmouth, little green tree frog, American bullfrog, great egret. 

What's Next

When the College Student was small, she was one of these super energetic kids who would finish an activity and, while the adults were all thinking that we were ready for a rest and maybe a restorative cup of tea, she'd ask, because she was full of energy and curiosity, ready and raring to go do another fun activity, "What's next?". For awhile the Grandpa of No even took to calling her "Ms. What's Next?".

Since the College Student has gone off to school, I've noticed certain things around the house: we have more food than usual; we are using slightly less gasoline in the cars; and I seem to have more free time.  Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining about that.  I do have birds to find, books to read, naps to take, and a house to declutter (someday).  I do have a list of incomplete crafty attempts, like the scrapbook I started when the College Student was the Kindergartner (and never finished- in the scrapbook, she is still a kindergartner), and a crochet blanket that might be 75% complete (I may or may not have forgotten how to make the granny squares that comprise the blanket).

But with one kid off to college and another one in 10th grade, I'm starting to wonder, "What's next?".  Retirement, eventually, but that's still some time away.  I have college-related payments to make for the next seven semesters, so I won't be traveling the world any time soon, or making any big purchases.  I am definitely aware that the Dad of No and I need to start doing some serious work on The Son of Never Stops Eating's transition plan in preparation for the day he ages out of public school and we will need to confront the reality of parenting an adult child with special needs in a society that doesn't want to recognize that this is actually a real thing. But for the first time in my adult life, there doesn't seem to be a concrete next step.  I graduated from college, found employment, got married, had two babies, and was ballet-soccer-softball-band Mom.  Now that the hands-on intensive Mom stage of life is coming to an end and I'm transitioning into more of a advisory role, I'm just not sure what exactly is next.

Part of my unease is probably due to the fact that I will shortly be turning the big 4-9, and that I'm watching the slow and painful continual descent of my own mother into the dark abyss of Alzheimer's.  I have this idea in my head that if there are things I want to do, that now would be a good time to start doing them. It's just that I was so busy doing the graduation-get a job-get married-buy a house- have babies-chase after toddlers-ballet-soccer-softball-band mom-watch them become teenagers-oh my God, they grew up! that I didn't spend that much time thinking about what's next because I honestly didn't think that "What's next?" was going to happen any time soon.

I suspect that I am not the only one asking myself this question- I've recently had conversations with friends who have recently become empty nesters or almost empty nesters that make me think I am not alone in this sense of feeling a little lost at the moment.  I'm still in the "I keep expecting the College Student to walk in the door at any minute, asking to use the car to go to Starbucks" part of adapting to having an adult child away at school.  

I know that I will figure it out, eventually.  Perhaps after I get caught up with the figurative pile of books I've been meaning to read but didn't because of ballet-soccer-softball-band, or get reacquainted with the granny square, or finally get around to culling the five thousand photos I have of broad banded water snakes and great blue herons.  For now, I'm going to take a deep breath, start making a list of projects that need doing, and see where the journey goes from here.

The Marsh Project Week #31

So a few weeks were skipped.  One week I was preparing to deliver the College Student to her new abode, the second week I was on the road, and the third week I was recovering from the first two weeks and trying to get a handle on the now-realized fact that I'm down to one resident teenager.  The house is definitely much quieter, it seems to be staying just a little cleaner, and the rapid consumption of groceries seems to have slowed down just enough to be noticeable.

It's transition time at our house, and apparently it's transition time out at the marsh as well, because once I returned from my multi-state driving adventure and hit the trails, I discovered that even though it is still hot outside, there's been a shift in what I'm observing and what I'm not seeing anymore.  I'm honestly ready for the heat to subside, and for fall to start heading my direction, so while it seems that some of my favorite dragonflies have moved on, I'm looking forward to see what September brings. I've been fortunate enough to see one visitor traveling through on its own road trip, the yellow warbler.  They apparently like to hide among the lily pads on the marsh, and if you sit quietly you may see one flying from stem to stem.

I am noticing a lot of common green darner dragonflies.  I seem to observe these beautiful green and blue dragonflies more at the beginning and ending of summer and not so much in the middle.  Waiting for one to settle is usually an exercise in futility; once they get going, they don't stop. Every now and then, however, I'll be walking down the trail and I'll see one hanging from a tree branch.  Since I returned, I haven't seen any of the other darners I usually see on this trail- the swamp darners and the regal darners have made themselves scarce.

The butterflies, however, are starting to pick up just a wee bit.  On the trail this week, I've noticed several monarch butterflies, along with one viceroy trying to trick me into thinking it was a monarch with its similar orange and black coloring. I still haven't seen many common buckeyes, which is usually a fairly common butterfly, but this has not been a good year (or maybe they just all went to a different trail!). The Eastern tiger swallowtails are out flying around; I saw three on my last hike- although none of them wanted to be still long enough to be photographed. I'm excited about the monarchs; it didn't seem like we had a good spring for monarchs but maybe this fall will be better.

On one hike this week, I noticed something a little different- a large mushroom growing out of a dead tree trunk.  It was hard to get a great photo of it, but I was able to see and photograph enough of the underside gills for iNaturalist to suggest that this might be a rosegill mushroom.  I didn't take the mushroom cap to do a spore print, so I may never know an exact ID.  The cap was bigger than my hand.

Seen on the trail: Common green darner, common whitetail, Eastern pondhawk, slaty skimmer, widow skimmer, monarch, viceroy, Eastern tiger swallowtail, black swallowtail, Eastern giant swallowtail, cloudless sulfur, red admiral, green heron, great blue heron, snowy egret, little blue heron, northern cardinal, Carolina chickadee, yellow warbler, hummingbird (it was moving too fast for a more specific ID), scissortailed flycatcher, Eastern phoebe, green tree frog, broad-banded water snake, rough green snake, armadillo, raccoon, one very cool large mushroom (rosegill?).

Kindness

The Mom of No has just returned from a multi-state road trip, the purpose of which was to deliver The College Student to her new place of residence.  I was fine until I hit the state line of my own home state, and then I had to pull over, go in the visitor center, and have a little weepy time in the restroom.  I haven't really heard from The College Student since I left her all on her own in a strange state, but I can see that she's bought pizza and Insomnia cookies. I'm therefore assuming all is well, or at least nothing has gone epically wrong.

The long drive home alone gave me some time to do some deep thinking, and one of the things I thought about was kindness.  Our local school district had a huge "Kindness Convocation" right before I left, and that was the beginning of my pondering on the subject.  Not having been involved in any way with this Kindness Convocation, I can only assume that the objective was to make students be kinder to each other.  I hope it does.  Having sat through similar events as a bullied kid, I am dubious about the long-term effectiveness, but if it brings about positive results then it was time well spent.

It has become popular to talk about kindness as the solution to all our worldly woes.  If we would just be kinder to each other, then all the other issues we're grappling with would evaporate- or at least be mitigated to a bearable level.   I think if we could all manage to be kinder to each other then it would lead to some monumental changes, because we would begin understanding how our actions or inactions truly impact other people in negative ways, and we would begin to think about our society differently- in a sense of we are all connected, instead of a "I have mine, and I only care about you as long as it doesn't require significant effort on my part" sense.

The problem is that we're expecting our youth to be kind- but we're not doing a very good job, as adults, of modeling that behavior ourselves.  It's definitely a "do as I say, but not as I do" proposition.  (Warning: Political references cometh!). A few weeks ago, I was part of a discussion thread on Facebook and the antics of The Orange Man came up.  A community leader, who shall not be named, said something to the effect of "I don't like his language, but I like what he's doing for the economy, so I'm willing to overlook that".

His language?  I think the problem goes deeper than that (if you disagree, the Mom of No is probably not the blog for you)- but apparently bullying language is actually OK as long as you are getting desirable results. When adults talk to kids about bullying; the attempted message is usually "Bullying is never OK"; but as adults, the message we send out is that some bullying is OK.  Go on almost any public Facebook page, and it's not hard to find examples of people being very unkind- and when they get called out on it; the response is essentially "you're just a fragile little snowflake, I'm just giving my opinion, and you can't handle it, so it's your problem, not mine".

As adults, we can be horrible to each other- but we expect our kids to be kind to each other. We tell kids it's more important to be kind than to be smart (although I have yet to see anything about it's more important to be kind than to be a good athlete), so be kind, don't bully, include everyone, and then we don't. The message we give out by our own actions is be kind, unless you disagree with my politics, or are of a different religion, or you don't parent the way I do, or don't speak my language, or aren't of my skin color or ethnicity, or are of a different economic status- then really, kindness is optional.

As the parent of a special needs child, I wonder just what form this kindness will take- is it going to be the sort of kindness that ends up with my child being included in activities with his typical peers, without adult facilitation?  Will it lead to that kind of peer-initiated organic inclusion that every special needs parent dreams of, or will it be more of the "kindness" I'm used to- where people are just nice enough to be "kind", but not enough so that it requires effort on their part to invite him into their circle and be a true part of his life.  Will it be kindness in a patronizing way, or kindness in an authentic way?

Recently a neighboring city was conducting a hearing about bringing in mass transit, which would be of great benefit to people with disabilities and senior citizens who no longer drive.  I received an e-mail regarding the meeting which contained excerpts of comments from people who were opposed to spending city money on mass transit: "Charities and churches should be taking care of the disabled people, it isn't our responsibility; those of us who are not disabled or old don't need it, who cares about them?".  Often, we are not a kind society- we are a selfish one.  Our kids see this.  If we really want to raise children who are kind, we need to take it further than a Kindness Convocation; we need to live it.

The Marsh Project Week #30

I had to skip a week due to work travel and other commitments, but who's counting, right?  The lack of rain is becoming more and more apparent on the trail; large ponds along the boardwalk are either completely dry or quickly drying up, and the vegetation is getting browner and crispier.  Late summer is here; the Son of Never Stops Eating has a week and a half of vacation left before school resumes, and The College Student is packing her stuff up in preparation for The Big Move.  This has been an odd summer in that the butterflies never really showed up although it ended up being a good season for dragonflies.  We will still have several weeks of heat, but I'm ready for some cooler weather.

No matter how hot it gets, in the late afternoon I usually hear at least one armadillo rustling around in the ground cover.  They seem to stick to the shaded areas on the trail, just like your intrepid nature observer.  Sometimes if you're really quiet, you can sneak almost right up on them before they notice that you are there.

The marsh seems to be full of green herons.  They are small birds, so they're not always visible amongst all the green (or not so green) vegetation, but every now and then one will fly up, startled by something, or poke its head up.  Soon enough, like the little blue herons, the scissor-tailed flycatchers, the painted buntings, and the indigo buntings (and college students all over America), they will be migrating on, so I'm enjoying these gorgeous little herons while I still have the chance.

For the last four weeks I've been seeing these stunning neon skimmer dragonflies at the same spot.  The bright color just pops out at you (which is probably how they got their common name). This morning, I was fortunate enough to come across one who was willing to pose for a few photos before flying off.  Sometimes if you wait a few minutes, a dragonfly will come back to its perch, but this neon skimmer went elsewhere.

One of my favorite finds this week was this cottonmouth snake, nearly immersed in this small shaded stream.  I love the way the tree canopy is reflected in the water.

Seen on the trails:  Scissor-tailed flycatcher, painted buntings, green herons, little blue heron, Northern cardinal, osprey, anhinga, Eastern phoebe, Carolina wren, cottonmouth, green tree frog, regal darner, royal river cruiser, widow skimmer, wandering glider, great blue skimmer, slaty skimmer, queen butterfly, Eastern giant swallowtail, common buckeye butterfly, common raccoon, armadillos

On Your 18th Birthday

About this time 18 years ago I was standing in my kitchen, massively pregnant in the August heat, feeling some odd twinges and pains and thinking that something was about to get started.  I was right- those odd twinges and pains were the onset of labor, and the beginning of what has been an awesome (and sometimes exhausting) adventure. 

That baby turns 18 tomorrow, and I'm honestly torn between feelings of "Thank God, now you're an adult, you can go buy your own underwear", and "Oh crap, there's a lot I've forgotten to tell you about life, don't hate me!", and "Does this mean I'm old?".  I know I'm getting up there; when I hang out with my besties we talk about menopause and college costs and aging parents and in a few days the Grandpa of No will be moving my mom into assisted living, and I'm starting to realize that retirement is more than a glimmer on the horizon and sometimes that right knee gets a little achy and now I need reading glasses so yeah, I'm no spring chicken and now I have my very own...gulp...adult daughter.  Oh boy. Hot flash! Hot flash!

So I feel like I should give some deep, philosophical advice to start off the College Student's adult years just right, and the best I can come up with is the sage advice in the following paragraphs. 

Dear newly minted adult: I know you can do it.  You're a smart kid (OK, grownup). You are responsible. I've seen you take ownership of your mistakes, and you work to correct them.  You have some idea of where you want to end up in five years, which is, quite honestly, more than I had figured out at your age.  You can be something of a procrastinator, and you don't always like to ask for help. Start asking when you need it- I'm paying some bank in student service fees; I want you to take advantage of every resource on campus you possibly can. 

Things aren't always going to end up the way you planned or intended. You'll probably get your heart broken at least once (whoever he is, he doesn't deserve you anyway).  You'll have a great job interview, only to find out someone else was offered the position (whoever that company is, they don't deserve you either.).  You'll lose a friend, or two.  You might end up living somewhere you hadn't expected, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  You will have setbacks both minor and major.  You will have times of mourning in your life; you will know grief.  

However, you will also have adventures! You'll have days where you wake up, ready to get up and go.  You'll get jobs you didn't expect to get, find friends in unexpected ways, travel to places you never expected to see, learn things you never expected to learn.  One day you'll wake up by the beach, or in a tent in a forest, and the sun will be rising in the cool early morning air, and you'll think to yourself, I am so glad to be alive!  You may start your own family one day, and in one of those early morning feedings you'll look down at a soft downy infant head and think that, no matter how tired you are at that moment, this is where you are meant to be right now. You may find a passion or a cause that makes you feel like you are changing the world, or at least your small part of it.   

It won't happen all at once.  Five years from now, or ten years, or even twenty, or even thirty- you'll look up and realize that all those minutes in the days added up to something and you never even realized it was happening.  You'll look around and think, I had no idea it was going to happen so fast. 

Grownup stuff is not always easy, so ask for advice when you're not sure. Don't forget to vote.  Save your money. Show up when you say you will, and do what you say you are going to do.  Keep learning stuff. Read lots of books.  Be judicious about what you post on social media.  Don't sign any contracts without reading them first and being sure that you understand what you are agreeing to.  Remember that sometimes it is better to say no.  Avoid the urge to start comparing yourself to other people;  do your own thing and don't feel like you need to compete with anyone. Call your mother (texting is okay too).

So here it comes, whether you feel ready for it or not...welcome to adulthood. Happy 18th birthday, kid.