Thursday, November 29, 2012

Baraka

Photo Credit: Wikipedia

I watched the documentary, Baraka today. The film, beautifully photographed in high-definition, depicted the common thread found in all people in the world: spirituality, community, violence, destruction and death. The story was told through man’s relationship with nature. The opening scene began in Japan where a female Japanese snow monkey (macaque) was soaking in hot springs. The monkey sat still, her expression calm, almost meditative. I had wanted to see the film on its own merit, but the image of the macaque in such a calm repose, convinced me that the film was worth putting aside the day’s chores.

It has been my intent to one day return to Japan to visit the mountainous regions where the snow monkey lives. I don’t know much about the snow monkey except for the photographs I have seen of them. Macaques have a red, human-like face with expressive eyes. Their fur is naturally thick and during the winter months they grow an even heavier fur coat that protects them from the cold. Although they typically walk on all four legs, they are capable on walking on their back legs allowing them to hold items in their hands. Most photographs of macaque show them soaking in Japanese hot springs, called onsen. I guess that is where I first fell in love with them.

My initial trip to Japan was an experience in culture shock. It was the first time I had travelled to a foreign country (Canada notwithstanding) and found myself in a place where I was the one who stood out from the masses. Metropolitan Japan is defined by large waves of people in constant motion. Narrow city streets and tightly packed buildings are brightly lit by gaudy displays of neon. It was emotionally overwhelming and isolating for in addition to not looking Japanese, I did not speak the language.

After a day of recovering from jet lag, we left the city travelling by rail to Hakone. We walked around the city and stayed in a traditional Japanese hotel; rooms furnished with tatami rugs and futons rolled away in a closet. After dinner we went to the onsen where there were separate pools of steaming water steeped in various herbs and smells.  This was the Japan I was seeking, one where the pace was slower, buildings simple and elegant, where traditions and history are more important than commerce.

Someday I will return to Japan, not to visit the Ginza or Akihabara (Electric Town where stores carrying the latest in electronic gadgetry ply their wares) but to travel far into the forested regions where the macaque live. Where people and nature intersect and move in concert with one another.







Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Arrival of the Big Cats

Photo Credit - Michigan Department of Natural Resources

When I planned my September trip to the Upper Peninsula, one of my goals was to search for the elusive cougar that had been seen in the area where I was to stay. I had no expectation of success as these great cats are secretive and not fond of human interaction.

So when I received an email from the Michigan Department of Natural Resources about three verifiable cougar sightings, I was thrilled. As I read the press release I was astounded to learn that two of the cougars wore radio collars, a device not used on cougars in Michigan. DNR officials noted that North and South Dakota are the closest two states to utilize the collars on cougars. Considering that the Dakotas are between 500 and 700 miles from the Upper Peninsula, those two cougars traveled a great distance to arrive at their present locations.

Intrigued, I pulled out my Michigan Mammals book (Rollin H. Baker, Michigan State University Press) and read the section on cougars. The book explained that the juvenile cougar is highly mobile, for resident male and female cougars tend to remain in their original territories. But the cougar roaming distances discussed in Michigan Mammals were 25 miles or more. Five to seven hundred miles is significantly more than the distances discussed.

That leads me to ask the question, why have those Dakota cougars travelled such a long distance from their home territory? As with most predators, food availability is often the determining factor in where a cougar will situate itself. With its abundance of whitetail deer and sparse human population centers, the Upper Peninsula would be an ideal location for any cougar to reside. It makes me wonder if whether the cougars traveled east to find adequate food supplies and to avoid the depredation by ranchers who blame the cats for the killing of their livestock. Agriculture and cattle ranching are major industries in the Dakotas, leaving little doubt that the cougar is an unwelcome guest in those states.

Whatever the reason for their relocation, the cougar, like the wolf, is a key player in maintaining ecosystem balance. As top predators, the cougar regulates the deer and small game populations naturally. Without the cougar, overpopulation of prey animals can result. Too many prey animals can cause excessive feeding on trees and other vegetation and starvation will drive prey animals into residential areas in search of food.

Whatever the reasons behind the arrival of the Dakota cougars, I am glad to see that someone had the opportunity to see them in the wild. Perhaps one day I too will get the same chance.


Press Release - Michigan DNR verifies three Upper Peninsula cougar photos - Michigan Department of Natural Resources, Nov. 28, 2012; Contact: Adam Bump, 517-373-1263bumpa@michigan.gov; or Debbie Munson Badini, 906-226-1352munsonbadinid@michigan.gov

http://www.michigan.gov/dnr/0,4570,7-153--290552--,00.html


Tuesday, November 27, 2012

True Friendship Endures


Today was a special day for I had lunch with a friend whom I had not seen in several years. We had worked together many years ago and despite moving in different directions professionally had managed to stay in touch. Over lunch we talked about the old days of working together, reminiscing about colleagues long forgotten, eventually coming full circle to our present careers. We shared stories about our families, the lengths of our marriages, and how our perspectives of work and life have changed.

It is difficult to believe that our friendship has lasted more than twenty six years. Except for a brief period of time, I can count on two hands the number of times we have seen each other since I left the company we both worked for. What amazes me is that after only a couple of awkward moments at the onset of our lunch, our conversation resumes its natural tempo, as if our last visit was only weeks earlier not years.

I returned home to my two old ladies, who were waiting impatiently for their noon meal. Like my friend, Lucy and Gracie have also shared my life for a very long time. We have grown old together and yet, I continue to see them as the youngsters who joined my home so many years ago. The three of us have long past the frivolousness of our youth. We are not as spritely as we once were and I see the effects of aging in the bodies of my two girls. Despite the physical limitations that come with age, my relationship with them is as strong as the first time we met. Time may change our physical beings, but not the emotional connections that first brought us together.

In my busy life, I often put chores and responsibilities first to the detriment of relationships. Looking back, I had my priorities backwards and it is days like today that reminds me of that. There will come a time when Lucy, Gracie and my friends will pass from my life permanently leaving behind only memories. Would not a better use of my life here on earth be to reach out to those whose friendships bring richness and meaning to my life?

Monday, November 26, 2012

Artificial or Real? Let the Cats decide

Christmas 2005

With the month of December soon upon us, it is time for family and friends to come together and celebrate the Yuletide season.

In my family we include our four-legged friends in the celebration. Gifts are purchased and given for each pet-child and the assortment of dogs, cats and guinea pigs participate in family festivities. For Mr. Leo, it is a special Christmas tree, decorated with photo ornaments of pet cousins. Sophie and Bixby dress in Santa Claus costumes complete with red Santa hats. Shadow is included in the sending of holiday cards. In my home, the cats participate in the decorating of the household Christmas tree.

At one point in time, I had a nine foot artificial tree. It was easy to set up and dismantle; no needles to sweep away. Then Sundance came into my life and he discovered during his first Christmas how much fun it was to climb to the top of the artificial tree. As he climbed, the ornaments came crashing down. I removed all the glass ornaments, leaving behind the more durable plastic and wooden ones.

Remembering how much fun he had the previous Christmas, the next year, Sundance helped me with the assembling of the artificial tree. Once again, he climbed the tree, pulling the branches out of the stem as fast as I could insert them. I finally gave up, leaving an empty tree standing in the living room for the holidays. What was the point of decorating if the tree needed to be re-assembled every day?

Eventually, I gave away the artificial tree, replacing it with a live tree from the local farm market. Live trees presented a new set of problems. Not satisfied with the two large water bowls set aside for drinking, Gabriel decided that fresh, resin favored water was tastier. Every morning, I found the big black and white cat curled up under the tree, the tree bowl empty. No amount of cajoling or wrapping the tree base could keep Gabe from drinking the water. The poor tree suffered from drought and Gabriel found a new water source.

Now that Thanksgiving has come and gone, it is time for the annual trip to the farm market to select this year’s tree. Will it be a tall, slender douglas fir, the tree I selected last year or a return to the traditional blue spruce? Maybe I should take Gabriel with me and let him decide. After all, it is his tree too.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Sharing the Same Space


In today’s newspaper there was an article about a doe and her two fawns walking into an Iowa Kohl’s. I love reading stories about interactions between humans and animals, especially those that have happy endings.

In this world where our need for more space has encroached on natural areas, the number of interactions between wildlife and people are increasing. Birds, squirrels and raccoons are commonly seen but there is more evidence of larger animals taking up residence in urban areas.

Not everyone is happy with this situation. Homeowners who invest significant time and money into landscaping do not appreciate the pruning habits of whitetail deer. Housecats allowed to wander outdoors at night can fall prey to coyotes. I don’t even want to delve into the concerns of ranchers and farmers and their adversarial relationship with wolves and cougars.

The reality is that all wildlife have fundamental needs that must be met to survive.  Larger pack carnivores, such as wolves may require anywhere from less than 100 to 1,000 square miles of territory to provide adequate food sources to maintain its pack’s nutritional needs. When faced with certain death from starvation and territorial challenges, wildlife can move into populated areas. Keep out signs and fencing is meaningless if the animal is starving and there is a tasty vegetable bed in the back yard.

I enjoy watching wildlife in my yard; my daily experience of wilderness in the confines of suburbia. Yes, I understand that everyone doesn’t share my belief, but I also know that maintaining our ecosystems, and my place in them, are dependent upon the survival of all inhabitants, human and not. What I would wish for is a little more tolerance of our wildlife neighbors. Instead of immediately calling animal control or using lethal control measures, think about how ways we can all share this world together.

P.S. I'll be taking the rest of the week off to enjoy a long Thanksgiving weekend with my family. Have a great week and I'll be back on Monday.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Sharing the Good and the Bad



I recently completed a health risk assessment that included blood work and a visit with my doctor. Giving any thought to my physical wellbeing has never been a high priority for me as I am generally healthy. Except for the occasion bruise and sprain, for I am rather clumsy, I typically see my physician once a year for a fifteen minute commiseration about getting older and a “see you next year”.

But this year was different. Not that I was sick, but I was surrounded by family members who were contending with some serious medical issues. One of the recurring conversations I have had with family members is the risk of contacting disease resistant bacteria such as MRSA (methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus), a dangerous side effect of extended hospital stays.

If it wasn’t bad enough that MSRA kills an estimated 18,000 Americans a year, researchers have found evidence of MSRA in domesticated animals and wildlife. Closely housed, antibiotic-treated livestock, such as pigs, has created an environment of resistant bacteria putting animal and farmer at risk. MSRA has been found in pets and zoo animals, likely infected by their human caretakers.

But now, researchers have discovered MSRA in wildlife. At the University of Iowa, scientists collected samples from injured wildlife admitted into their Wildlife Care Clinic. Seven of the 114 animals admitted carried the MSRA bacteria including owls, pigeons, a beaver, a heron, and a squirrel.  [1.]

Expanding evidence of zoonotic diseases [2.] has lead to the creation of One Health Initiative, a collaboration of experts in human, animal and environmental health. Their mission – “Recognizing that human health (including mental health via the human-animal bond phenomenon), animal health, and ecosystem health are inextricably linked, One Health Initiative seeks to promote, improve, and defend the health and well-being of all species by enhancing cooperation and collaboration between physicians, veterinarians, other scientific health and environmental professionals and by promoting strengths in leadership and management to achieve these goals.” [3.]

I have always been aware of the health risk involved with being around animals. Diseases like rabies, cat scratch fever, tetanus play a large role in determining the vaccinations that my pets are given and what wildlife I was willing to care for. But I had given little thought to these resistant bacteria transmissions and the impact that they can have on the human as well as animal populations. I am intrigued to learn more about One Health Initiative and how this collaboration will improve the health of all.

Sources
1.       Antibiotic-Resistant Bugs Go Wild, Jill U. Adams, 18 October 2012, http://news.sciencemag.org/sciencenow/2012/10/antibiotic-resistant-bugs-go-wil.html?ref=hp
2.       A zoonosis is an infectious disease that is transmitted between species (sometimes by a vector) from animals to humans or from humans to animals – Wikipedia definition - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zoonosis
3.      One Health Initiative - http://www.onehealthinitiative.com/mission.php

Friday, November 16, 2012

Thinking about Winter


East Grand Traverse Bay - November 16, 2012

Another week has passed and the realization that next week is Thanksgiving has finally sunk in. The calendar says it is mid-November but one wouldn’t know it by looking out the window. The sun shines brightly and the ground is bare of snow. We have had a couple of days of snow, that heavy wet stuff that comes down hard and melts a day later.
This is not the November I remember as a child. Growing up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, winter came early and stayed late into April. The winters there were brutal; three hundred inches of snowfall were not uncommon.  Living close to my high school, I walked to class bundled up in layers of wool and heavy boots. Cancelling class for storms was an infrequent event; we were rugged Yoopers who weren’t afraid of a little snow.
I attended college at Michigan Tech, located across the canal from my home. I now participated in the risky world of winter driving, navigating my rear-wheel drive vehicle over snow-packed roads. The car slid and spun, weighted in the trunk with snow shovels, jumper cables and spare clothes. But winter didn’t prevent me from going to class or attending parties and dating. I was fearless.
After graduation I moved south, away from the long UP winters and to northwest Michigan where the snow came later and spring arrived in March. It was here that I experienced my first green Christmas, a warm overcast day where I walked along the snowless TART trail near my home. The town was quiet, devoid of skiers and snowmobilers who always came up for the holidays. Christmas without snow loses its magic.
Winter seems to arrive later and later each year. Gone are the days when I loathed getting up in the morning, knowing that I had to drive through another day of treacherous roads. Storms come infrequently now, but when they do come, they are nasty episodes, downing power lines, closing down roads.
Do I miss the old days? Personally I don’t, for I have never been a fan of winter. But I am concerned about the effects of our all too frequent mild winters. Driving past East Grand Traverse Bay this week, the water has receded back several hundred yards from the shore, exposing sand and rocks. I cannot remember the last winter in which the bay froze over. After a summer of no rain, we need winter’s snow to replenish and refresh the bays and forests. How much more stress can we placed on the natural world until it rebels back?
I saw the damage that Sandy did on the Atlantic shoreline, a combination of warmer waters, a large population base and an autumn tropical storm. Will that severe weather come to my community? Is there anything I or anyone else can do to reduce that chance? I don’t have the answers but we are all at risk. I don’t want to be on bad side of Mother Nature.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Popcorning through Life

Wendell vacationing on Neebish Island

In today’s ScienceDaily there was an article about depression and caged animals. The study found that mink kept in sterile living conditions ate and slept more than mink living in enriched environments.

The article got me thinking about the quality of life I provide to Wendell, my guinea pig. Wendell has a large cage, equipped with an igloo for sleeping, a hanging salt wheel and wood toys. He gets baby carrots twice a day in addition to timothy and piggy nuggets that I refresh when I daily clean his cage. There is always activity around him for he shares the family room with the television and the cats.

As guinea pigs go, Wendell’s temperament is much calmer than the cavies I have had in the past. He allows me to trim his nails without biting me and has acclimated well to riding in the car. But he is a solitary guinea pig, making me wonder if he needs companionship.

I have had positive and negative experiences with multiple guinea pigs. Iggy & Bruizer, my first pair, were raised together. It was fun to watch them popcorn around the cage, a guinea pig trait where the pig “bucks” up his back end while running. When Bruizer died unexpectedly, I introduced Muggs into Iggy’s home. While Iggy was used to having a partner to share his cage, Muggs was young and aggressive. As he grew, Muggs took to bullying Iggy, biting his ears and barricading the entrance of the igloo keeping Iggy outside. Iggy never retaliated, but his days of popcorning around the cage were over.

When both Iggy and Muggs passed on, I made a decision never to introduce a second pig into my cavy cage. Elvis, my fourth guinea pig, was a short-timer. I had gotten him from a friend who was trying to re-home a daughter’s pet. Elvis was charming, but obviously a senior citizen. He died within months after I brought him home.

When Elvis died, I cleaned up the cage and stored it in the basement. In some way I had not given up entirely the idea of having another guinea pig, but had decided not to actively seek a replacement for Elvis. That was until I spotted Wendell at my local feed store. Like Elvis, he was an unwanted pet of a young boy and he was looking for a new home. It was love at first sight. I put his cage into my car and took him home.

One of the difficulties of having guinea pigs is that they need constant attention. They have a tendency to poop in their food and water dishes so leaving him home for the weekend wasn’t an option. At first, I took Wendell to a friend’s house, but that arrangement didn’t work out. It was then that Wendell became a world traveler. He has his own travel carrier, a portable play pen and a tote bag with all his supplies. I have taken him all over the state, visiting his human and doggy relatives. Wendell seems to enjoy the change of scenery with the added bonus of having me entirely to himself.

This brings me back to the study on depression and caged animals. What can I do to make Wendell’s life more enjoyable? I can let him wander around the room more often, put some new toys in his cage, perhaps allow him to sit on my lap longer and brush his fur. I would like to think he would enjoy the change of pace, perhaps even learn to popcorn. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Knock. Knock. Knock…… Come In!!

Male Red-bellied Woodpecker - Photo Credit - Wikipedia
I had a new visitor to my bird feeders yesterday morning, a male red-bellied woodpecker.  It was difficult to identify him at first because he would swoop down to pick up a seed and fly back up into the trees. When he discovered the suet basket hanging from the house eave, I finally got the chance to get a close look at him.

What a beautiful bird! He had a bright red hood that covered the back of his head; his wing feathers, black with white markings. Perched on the basket, the woodpecker was able to use his long beak to reach through the bars to peck at the suet cake.

For a novice birder like me, woodpeckers are an easy bird to spot. The tap-tap-tap sound is a guaranteed cue that there are woodpeckers close by; it is up to me to figure out the exact species. Over the years, I have spotted only three varieties of woodpeckers around my yard: the small Downy Woodpecker, the large Pileated Woodpecker and now the red-bellied. By the number of trees with holes bored into them, it is likely that I have more woodpeckers visiting than I have actually seen.

Woodpeckers have a bad reputation for creating big holes in buildings. From my perspective, the woodpecker is doing a service for the homeowner. If they are pecking at your siding, chances are there are nests of insects living within the walls. I would rather be patching a hole from the outside of the house, rather than discover extensive insect damage that had gone undetected for years.

Knowing that woodpeckers are frequenting my suet basket I have become more diligent in keeping the basket filled with fresh suet. That extra effort provides me with the benefit of getting an up close and personal look at these magnificent birds.

Monday, November 12, 2012

A Weekend With Dogs

Sophie
I spent the weekend with my sisters, all of whom have dogs as pets. Coming from my home where cats rule, it takes a little getting used to having dogs around me again.  

First there is the welcoming process. Unlike my cats that will raise their heads to check out who has walked into the room, and then return to the task for which they were rudely interrupted, Sophie & Bixby greet me at the door, barking and circling around my feet.  Bix, the older of the two, barks at me warily. Somewhere in our past interactions, I have offended the little guy and he has not yet forgiven me.  Then there is Sophie. She is a squirming ball of gray curls that has endless energy and affection for all.  Unlike Bixby, her bark is more of where have you been, I’ve missed you. Her over the top welcome will continue until I finally pick her up and allow her to smother me with doggie kisses.

A home with dogs always has a feel of perpetual motion. There is the constant going in and out of the house; always on the pretense of relieving themselves although I secretly think that it is a dogs' way to monitor their territory more than emptying a full bladder. My cats have a morning burst of energy that gives way to hours of sleep. Dogs seem to live in reverse, hours of play with short burst of naps.

Then there is the noise. Those two dogs make more racket than all eleven of my cats together on a bad day. Dogs bark when they’re happy, sad, lonely, and contemplative, the pitch may change but the sounds are always the same. I admit that I am overly sensitive to barking but when I think about how dogs use their voice as a way of socializing, I have to admit that it a much better alternative to the butt-sniffing, yowling ways of my cats.

Dogs make you feel like their world revolves around you contrary to cats who think the world revolves around them. I cannot take the cats for a walk outside; much less get them to wear a harness and leash. A car ride with cats is a form of masochism and not for the faint of heart.

Would I trade in my cats for dogs? Not on your life. I rather like their independence. I suspect that their loyalties are sometimes based on who provides them with the best living arrangements and given the right conditions, they would abandon me in an instance. They might not jump for joy when I walk into the house, but they let me know in their own feline way, that I am part of their world.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

My World According to Cats


Lucy

People often ask me what it is like to live in home with so many cats. To be honest, unless it is Saturday morning, the day set aside for a special breakfast of canned cat food, it is a rarity to see all eleven of them at the same time. Yes, I have eleven cats!!
But it wasn’t always that way. I was a confirmed dog person until I adopted my first kitten, Siegfried, almost 30 years ago. All it took was that tiny ball of fur curled up on my lap, purring his little heart out and I was smitten. No more dogs, cats rule.
Since that time sixteen different cats have taken their place in my home. Kissa lived here the shortest at only two years; others, like Tristan lived until the ripe old age of 22.  I had long-haired and short-haired cats, males and females, kittens and adults. The only requirement was that they either came from shelters or were abandoned in the neighborhood.
My current cat household is unique in that I actually have three distinct family groups. The Old Ladies, Lucy and Gracie, are my senior citizens. Both in their late teens, they possess the Maine Coon markings and coloration varying only in their eye color and the fact that Lucy is long-haired and Gracie, short-haired. The Old Ladies are feisty and prefer to keep their own company. They want nothing to do with the other cats in the house.
The Hole in the Wall Gang is family group number two. True siblings, Butch, Sundance and Etta (known in the house as Eddie) moved in fourteen years ago when I offered to foster care them after their mother was killed. When they arrived, the three were barely a month old and still needed bottle feeding. Fourteen years later, they continue to behave like unruly kittens, constantly fighting and stealing food from one another.
The last family group is Mama’s Family. Mama Kitty and her five children (Gabriel, Isabelle, Oliver, Lily and Squeak) moved in five years ago after being abandoned by someone in the neighborhood. Unlike the Hole in the Wall Gang, Mama’s family adore each other and you can always find them cuddled up together on the living room chair or stacked in a row at the back door watching the squirrels at the feeder.
I must admit there are times when having all these cats are exhausting. There are always litter boxes to empty and it is a rare moment to sit down without one of them wanting to sit on my lap. I have a closer relationship with my veterinarian than I do with my own physician and you don’t even want to know how much I spend each year on litter, food and medications.
But like I always said, I wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning if it wasn’t for my cats. They play such a large role in my life, making me laugh when they race through the house in hot pursuit of each other, to testing my patience when I catch them using my houseplants as litter boxes. I have bottle fed them as kittens and held them in my arms when they took their final breath. Cats are fearless and independent yet playful and loving. And I adore each and every one of mine.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

A Patient and Wise Teacher


The election is over. I had wanted to watch the candidates’ speeches in hopes of hearing words of healing and conciliation, but my body, tired from five hours of sitting overruled me.  When I finally got up and read the on-line morning papers; it didn’t take long to realize that my hope for unity was only a wish. Bad behavior and partisan politics dominated the stories.

Disappointed, I took Lucy and Gracie outside to refill the feeders and pick up the local newspaper from the box. I looked up towards the sky and saw the bright half moon framed by the pines. I stood there for the longest time just gazing, the election and all its peripheral drama forgotten.

In the book, The Power of Now, author Eckhart Tolle speaks of being present in the moment. Like most people, my mind is continually mulling over stories of my past and worries about the future. At moments like these, Tolle recommends that you stop and observe what is actually going on around you. Most of the time, the world is quiet and peaceful if you would just stop listening to the monkey chatter in your head.

I experience that moment this morning. Consumed by the stillness of the world around me, I realized just how unimportant all that election drama had been. The earth still rotates on its axis, the sun will again rise in the east and I have been given the gift of a new day to experience. Nature is a patient and wise teacher. I need only to listen and learn.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Choosing One’s Leaders


Three spined stickleback, Photo Credit - Wikipedia

Only eight hours remain until the voting booths closed in Michigan. For the past two months, I have been inundated with robo-calls, clear-cut forests of flyers that immediately get dropped into the recycling bin, the noise of shrill, bickering Republican and Democratic pundits and ugly television advertising.

The acrimony and viciousness of this presidential campaigning cycle got me to wondering how other animals determine their leaders.  Do they behave as badly as we do? After doing a little research I found three distinct processes. No doubt that there are countless more but what I found was enlightening.

I started with wolves; those social pack carnivores that live the forests of the upper Midwest. Within every pack of wolves are the alpha male and female who are more aggressive and stronger than the other members of their pack. Only the alpha male and female mate ensuring that their genetic composition carries on to the next leadership generation. Subordinate wolves normally do not mate and those that do are driven out of their community. I see this as a monarchical leadership process that is determine by genetic lineage much like the royal families in Europe.

Then we have the cow. Domination or size doesn’t seem to be the qualifications for leadership. Research has shown that deference is given to the oldest cow in the herd who leads the others to feeding sites. So experience rather than size or lineage is the criteria in the cow population.

Finally, there are the stickleback fish. The stickleback is more of a trial and error species who allows its population to individually choose its leadership. Some sticklebacks will make the correct decision immediately while others follow another path. The remaining fish will observe the decision making process and when it is apparent that the majority of sticklefish go in one direction, the others will follow. We’re talking about consensus building at its best.

So, what does that tell me about leadership and animals? I have little doubt that fighting and dominance occurs within all animal populations and even the old cow will be challenged eventually by a younger animal. But we are supposed to be the intelligent animal on this planet. Why do we stoop to the lowest common denominator rather than recognize that there are two sides on every issue and the candidate you disagree with isn’t the child of Satan? I am tired of the extremism that has colored the political landscape and prevents our leaders from making decisions for the good of all. Don’t we deserve better?

Monday, November 5, 2012

What Type of Bird Are You??


I’m wrapping up the fourth week of a five week on-line course on avian behavior. For the past several weeks, I have studied territorial behavior among mallard and goldeneye ducks, the courtship/territorial relationships between male and female red-winged blackbirds and currently, the mating rituals of birds of paradise. What I have learned throughout the past several weeks is that I know so very little about birds and how they behave.

One of my difficulties came from being unable to identify a particular species of bird. For the longest time, I thought I had only chickadees and white-breasted nuthatches at my backyard feeders. From the observing techniques learned in week one and two, I realized that I actually had two species of nuthatches, the larger white-breasted nuthatch AND the smaller red-breasted nuthatch. I had not noticed the different color bands on the red-breasted nuthatch’s head nor the pale red chest feathers and summarily called all the small black and white birds, chickadees.

I was familiar with the term sexual dimorphism the scientific term for differences in size, structure and appearance between male and female birds of the same species; a common example being male mallard ducks with their bright green heads and the female mallards that are shades of brown. But what I hadn’t realized until this class is that some birds’ coloration and feather patterns change throughout their lives and in some instances seasonally change.

There are also examples of male birds that hide certain physical characteristics dependent upon the situation. During the mating season, the male red-winged blackbird will display their bright red/yellow wings as a sign of dominance alerting other males to stay out of his territory. However, once mating season has passed the males will gather in large flocks. To avoid fighting within these groups, the males will hide their dominant red/yellow feathers. Never knew that; I just thought there were a solid black colored blackbird and the red-winged variety.

What I have learned from this class will help me when I participate in Project FeederWatch that begins this coming Monday. A program of the Cornell University Lab of Ornithology, the FeederWatch information gathered by me and other volunteers will help bird researchers identify patterns of behavior and winter homes of North American birds. Up to now, all of my identification work has been confined to class videos where I can watch the videos over and over until I get the answers correct. On Monday, I will see how much I have learned.

Friday, November 2, 2012

Living By The Clock



This has been a very long week. That sounds funny as I write this for how can a period of time vary from week to week if the same number of minutes and seconds apply? The passage of time in modern society has become a linear concept that can be readily quantified and documented. The descriptors of long and short are irrelevant emotions.
Like most people, I manage my day by the clock. I eat, go to bed, even, write this post at the same time every day, regardless of whether I am hungry, tired, or creative.  In my professional life, I lived by the clock and day planner. My work day was scheduled to the minute; initially in order to bill clients for my services and later to ensure that I never missed a deadline.
Away from the business world for more than a year, the principles of time have lost their meaning and I often find myself floundering. Without a deadline, a set work day, or even an outside imposed direction, the satisfaction that comes from crossing out tasks on the to-do list has disappeared. I’ve become anxious that I am not living my life to its fullest. Nothing can be further from the truth for each day is filled with tasks that are essential in maintaining me, my home and my community. What is now missing is the outward acknowledgement; that pat on the back that I continually received from co-workers, friends and family.
I am fully grasping the sense of loss that experts say happens when one transitions into retirement or extended unemployment. The comfort that comes from decades of being part of the working community is suddenly torn out of your routine and you are left to figure out how to fill that void. I have filled some of that loss through writing this blog, photography and taking classes but on days like today, it isn’t enough. As much as I love to write, learn and photograph; these are solitary pursuits. We humans are social animals that require each other as much as food, water and air.  My cats are fine companions but they cannot replace good conversation and a hearty shared laugh.
As I muddled through this period of change, I am increasingly learning that there is more to life than clocks or being constantly busy. The truth is that most projects are not as important as I often deem they are. That report that took me away from family gatherings, kept me awake for nights on end, is now decomposing, unread in the back of the file cabinet. Those dust bunnies will return no matter how many times I sweep the floor. What is important are the relationships I have with people I know and those I will come to know. Life isn’t about possessions or even time management. It is being fully engaged in being who you are and giving of yourself to others.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Twigs and Leaves


The high winds and rain have begun to subside after two days of Sandy’s tantrum. There are few leaves remaining on the trees now; leaving skeletons of branches standing against a drab gray sky.

For the first time this fall, I can finally see the handiwork of the neighborhood squirrels. I love watching the gray squirrels scurry up and down the trees, carrying leaves to build their winter homes. I share their frustration when finally reaching the top branches a gust of wind knocks the leaf out of their mouths, flittering back to the ground. But squirrels are a persistent and determined species and soon they are back climbing up the trunk resuming their task.

When you look at a squirrel’s winter home, you can’t help but wonder how that mishmash of leaves and twigs can possibly survive during the long cold months. Oftentimes, you find these nests hanging off the farthest ends of branches hovering over busy streets and sidewalks. Other nests are tightly built around tangled pine branches, hidden from view. In either case, the nests are only temporary. By spring, most squirrels abandon these winter abodes in search of a fresher, cooler summer residence.

The winter I cared for three orphaned squirrels, I had provided them a wooden nest box complete with loose straw for bedding. When spring arrived and the three had moved on to lives of their own. I pulled down the box to clean. The nest box was large, 12”x12”x12”. Opening the cover, that spacious box had been thickly packed with broken down dried leaves, straw and fur. The squirrels had created a cocoon just big enough to hold them, allowing the natural insulation and body heat to keep them warm and protected over the many months of snow and cold.

I’m guessing that if I were to peek inside one of these treetop squirrel nest, I would find a similar environment. The outside tangle of broken twigs and leaves serves to secure the nest to the tree. It is not intended to be beautiful but functional. Likewise, the interior of densely matted vegetation is spartan but warm.

I am impressed with the ingenuity of these animals. How did they learn to construct such durable nests? Was this knowledge passed from one generation to another or instinctual? My own experience with wintering over young squirrels leans towards instinct, but I provided them with the nest box. Could they have built an entire nest without my help?  I don’t know the answers but one thing is certain. Squirrels, like all living creatures, have the internal drive to survive, learning and adapting to the ever changing environment in which they live. For the grey squirrels of North America, it is the ability to construct shelters that are safe, strong and warm against the elements of winter.