Find yourself in West Virginia

New River Canyon from Hawk's Nest

I could have gone there alone.
To the woods that are bathed in a fog, tracing the winding path--
another river carves its way between wild places, welcoming birds.
This forest, the breeding ground for many;
others, passers through.
Soaked in the richness of the West Virginia woods,
air thick with song as mist dripping from a branch,
and, as I often wait and watch as one,
all around, so much I do not know.

Rain on new Sassafras

This group gathered--their watch, together.
Parting the curtain, bringing beauty center stage.
From within this wild, to the edge, such loveliness perched for all.
Many eyes watching,
each one so bright,
he dashes forward,
with song.

I would not have seen him, had I been here alone.
I have found myself in West Virgina.

The People of New River

The Nature Bloggers:
Nature Remains, Wrenaissance Reflections, Hasty Brook, Susan Gets Native, KatDoc's World, Sycamore Canyon, From the Faraway, Nearby, Mary's View

A trip with Wil Hershberger

Early morning at the Meadow House
with Jim McCormac of Ohio Birds and Biodiversity

Bird banding with Bill Hilton of Hilton Pond

Keith Richardson watching in background

A trip with Jeff Gordon and Julie Zickefoose

Dave Pollard, KatDoc's World, Jeff Gordon's mom

Julie Zickefoose and Steve McCarthy

Julie Zickefoose and Bill of the Birds at Cathedral Cafe

Wrenaissance Reflections

From the Faraway, Nearby

Mary's View

Hasty Brook, My Life With Birds, Somewhere in NJ

Walking with Connie Toops

The road at Muddlety Strips

View more ABC Wednesdays here!

New River

The New River Birding and Nature Festival is just days away--

a long-awaited gathering,
to the mountains of West Virginia,
as spring brings hundreds together there—
birds and people.

And, this year, the bloggers.

New year, new faces,
new gear, new places,
new bugs, new birds, new peers.

New trails, new climbs,
new tales, new times,
new smiles, new laughs, new tears.

Though piles of things I’ll bring with me,
lie scattered about the floor.
What I’ll bring back, just days from now,
I know is even more.

New River.
New friends.



Sharing a house for the week,
the people behind these blogs:
Hasty Brook
KatDoc's World
Mary's View
Nature Remains
Somewhere in NJ
Susan Gets Native
Sycamore Canyon
Wrenaissance Reflections

And, more of the flock, just down the road,
these fine folks from:

A Glorious Life

From the Faraway, Nearby
Life, Birding, Photos and Everything
My Life With Birds

And, of course,
our world famous guides, authors, artists and friends
who blog, too!
Bill of the Birds
Julie Zickefoose
Ohio Birds and Biodiversity
Wil Hershberger
and more!

View more ABC Wednesdays here!

BRB

I'm sitting down for a chat with Wren of the Nature Blog Network today. If you get a chance, swing by.
And if nature-themed writing and photography are what you're looking for, there are 700 more blogs you might enjoy reading here.

A chat with Julie Z.

I enter a swamp as a sacred place.
~Henry David Thoreau


It never ceases to amaze me--the diversity of natural areas around us.
And, that as often as we go out exploring, there continue to be places brand new.

Siebenthaler Fen is part of the Beaver Creek Wetland complex, several miles east of Dayton, and less than an hour's drive from our home. A protected peat-forming wetland, it's fed by groundwater and offers a mile-long stretch of board walk, observation areas and a tower platform, from which to view these rare communities of plants and animals--without getting your feet wet.
And, for the 20th anniversary of the organization that oversees this unique area, an early morning walk led by Julie Zickefoose.

Big Beaver Creek, rimmed by willows and shrubby cinquefoil, reflected a bright blue sky in its quiet surface. While in the wet woods, the shaded water beneath the cottonwoods hides frogs and turtles.
Even on this cool morning, emerging.
Green frogs in green duckweed.
And the tiniest painted turtle that slips beneath the surface before excited fingers find their focus.




From the treetops, Orioles and Indigo Buntings shone brightly in the sunshine. Orange and blue. Defending territories in persistent calls.
The low, dense shrubby areas covering the birds and their nests well-- their songs the only clue to their presence.

Julie's ear caught the song of a Yellow-breasted Chat, and we watched--as she called him into view, mimicking his whistle and chatter. Flitting from branch to branch, before finally resting at the top of a small tree to sing in the open--his throat full with sound and pouring forth joy. In the thick green tangles, the bold yellow spot with black gape--he held us there, watching.

In the sedge meadows, Skunk Cabbage and Great Angelica showed their large leaves from between the narrow sedges.
What looked like grass, was not that at all.
There is roughness here--spines and burs.
Texture.


Even into the woods, rushes in dark, clear water.
Just tall enough to hide beneath--if you're young.
And don't mind muddy feet.


So much packed into this rich area.
And so much richer with a leader like Julie.

Boardwalk down from Tower

Skunk Cabbage Rolls

Julie & me, after walk

"Miles to go..."

The year has come full circle.
My walking and watching, now passing its starting point.
One year’s time, captured and preserved.

I find myself asking if I have finished what I set out to do—record the beauty around me and set it in a light that others will find equally inspiring. Point a finger
toward what I fear many may not see, but could-- if they knew the reward in seeing it would be so great.

To make a note of the stories I’ve collected over time, ensuring they’ll be remembered--by me, if no one else.
Until I’ve caught them all, on a page, bound here.

As I walk behind the pond on this spring day, warm sunshine overhead, the dry leaves of the oak woods brittle beneath my feet, I recall last spring’s awakening and the discoveries that thrilled me. The joy of the first flowers’ arrival, turtles’ noses poking through the green of a summer pond, nesting birds, a growing garden, butterflies...
But what of this spring?
What newness will I find, that I have not already seen?
Perhaps I am finished.
Perhaps another year of the same will have less purpose.

There’s wisdom in the wildflowers.
Each one at my feet, brighter and more special than the last. The simplest fresh faces of spring, yet none diminished by my attention to its neighbor.
So common--yet each worthy of my admiration.






What an arrogant fool.
To think I have somehow seen all in a year’s days.
Or captured nature’s essence with my photographs.
Knowing now, that I will not truly see it all nor capture it here in a lifetime.

Gathering

It was a rainy, foggy night.
(No, really.)

And we did gather to meet and greet.

Trixie, Kathi, Susan and I—at Trixie’s mom’s house, not far from where I live.
Four bloggers from very different worlds, for a moment, together in one room-- sharing an evening of wine and stories.
Though we follow each other’s lives in our published posts, a chance to connect the dots, fill in the blanks.
To discover the real people behind their written faces.

Trixie’s mom was warm and generous to share her space with us. And Vivi and Isabelle, two adorable girls, more captivating in person than their moms’ photographs could ever capture.

A reminder that the writings and stories we so easily encounter and quickly scroll past each day, are far more than words and pictures.