A second Look at Squirrels
Small birds throw seeds out of the feeder; large birds pick them up off the ground, but the squirrels try to muscle in. - Lilian Jackson Braun
10/05/2022 - Long stretch to the suet
We battle over
bird seed and suet.
you climb
the skinny pole,
slippery with grease
and
holding on with hind feet -
stretch your whole body
to grasp a bite,
while i sit
in my warm house
watching,
waiting to run you off.
10/05/2022 - Squirrel Eyeing me cautiously while climbing to the bird feeder
Do you wonder
out there in the cold-
why I would
tempt you
with sweet morsels
10/05/2022 Black Squirrel on Red Feeder (looking fearful)
then come out yelling
and waving my arms
when you eat them?
October 7, 2022
scurry and dray
small and light
they float
over the earth
arcing their bodies
curling their tails
float.
arc.
curl.
a soft rustle
of leaves
a pause.
float.
arc.
curl.
a leap.
float.
into (or
out of)
the trees
always.
to scurry
or
dray.
(A group of squirrels is either called a scurry or a dray - but scurry is how they move, and dray is what their nests are called…)
October 2 - October 7, 2022 - I found a pile of acorns on the beach before sunset on Sunday night - and had the bright idea to make a squirrel shape in the sand with them… I always think of squirrels when I see acorns … I thought it would be fun to take a picture of it every day - to see the decline…as it happened; the whole thing stayed intact for days. Until a storm came and it disappeared. My footprints are where it should have been in the last picture. It’s the nature of ephemeral creations - you can’t predict their endings.
Breathing
August 13, 2022 A fawn waiting for its brother
Saturday morning
I went down the bluff stairs
To the lake.
It was still dark;
And I was foggy with sleep.
To the north I saw movement-
a silhouette on the beach,
then another-
then two more;
running and pausing
dipping their heads in the water
splashing and shaking it off -
a family of deer
briefly sharing a moment
with me.
August 17, 2022 A tree reaches out to the moon
8/17/2022
Busy days behind and ahead. Social days. Good days. But I need some peace in all of this. Moments to breathe. The lake in the early morning is my refuge, with the waning moon in the blue sky. This morning I decided to focus my photography on extremely simple, minimalist subjects to create in pictures what I crave in my life. Simplicity and space, beauty and quiet. So here is the moon, the sky and a leafy branch reaching out toward them both.
August 18, 2022 Cedar moss carpets the forest floor
August 18, 2022 Breathing is on my mind this week. I’m listening to Breath by James Nestor, about how we’ve lost the art of breathing well, and how it affects our health. This focusing of my attention has made me feel oddly tense; so today I walked the woods path slowly; and then down to the lake to breathe in the lake air (through the NOSE, of course - if you read the book; you will understand).
August 18, 2022 Just water and sky
August 19, 2022 Dune grass pushing through rocks
August 19, 2022. I saw this little bit of dune grass growing out from under a black stone, perfectly framed by it. Nature’s compositions and nature’s resilience in one image. The grass is growing through a pile of rocks my association brought in to help control the erosion of the bluff. It all looked unnatural for awhile, until suddenly - it didn’t .
August 19, 2022 Downcast Sunflower
August 19, 2022 Saugatuck
Just a week ago there were so many sunflowers blooming here; now there are only a few. Summer is waning. And this lonely remaining blossom, not fully open, bows its head.
August 21, 2022 Corn field under overcast sky
August 21, 2022 On my Sunday long run i ran on farm roads. Quiet and solitary. Simple. Feeling every step, counting my breaths ( yes, i do) .
August 21, 2022 A roll of hay in a green field
August 21, 2022 Grasshopper on the glass door
August 21, 2022 I came home from my run and found a pretty green grasshopper on my front door; then realized his leg was broken; which was why he didn’t jump away while I was getting in close with my camera. I felt protective ; but couldn’t figure out how to help. By Monday, he was gone. I don’t know what happened. Life is so precious and uncertain.
August 21, 2022 Close up of grasshopper and reflection
August 21, 2022 Grasshopper from the side
August 22, 2022 A lost feather in the setting sun
August 22, 2022 A lost feather I stood up in the sand., vanes almost tickling the light of the setting sun.
Deer Season
Deer Season
every morning deer
leave the woods through my garden
on the way to the lake with their spotted fawns
every morning they pause
to nibble on the tall grass at the side of the drive
as the little ones gather around
every morning I see them
and I adjust the focus and aim of my camera
to capture
a little piece of their
wild souls
Sunday Morning
I stepped outside to turn the sprinkler on in the garden as she was walking through the yard. I startled her. She hid behind a scraggly shrub in the woods,afraid, but still a little curious.She stopped there; still; and stared at me pointing my camera at her pretty face. Realizing (I hope) that I meant no harm, she walked away slowly into the woods.
Monday
I saw the babies outside through the window, three of them, chewing on the tall grass. I slowly and quietly picked up my camera, setting the exposure and focus distance based on a guess before opening the front door as silently as possible. Barefoot, I tiptoed out on the drive trying to stay out of sight. They saw me anyway. They were not afraid. The one in front even stamped his (her?) foot at me a few times. Then their mother came out of the woods and they dutifully followed her downthe unpaved road toward the lake.
Wednesday
I saw the mother first. She turned and saw me and stood there so resolutely, I suspected the fawns were near. She snuck a quick glance at the woods, and I knew I was right. The first one stepped out awkwardly, looking back at his siblings, not noticing me. Then the other two appeared. One of them noticed his mother staring up the hill and followed her gaze, finding me. The bold one, from Monday? Maybe. He (she?) was very slow to break eye contact with me. But eventually their mother encouraged them on; and I walked back to the house, letting them go without following.
I would like to learn how to identify them by their markings like the naturalists do. How do they do that? What varies? I don’t even know how to tell if they’re male or female unless they have their antlers. I’d like to be able to differentiate them from each other; to know each one as an individual, follow them as they grow older.