Looking for Sasquatch
The three trail cameras on the property are set up to record 50-second videos when any sound or motion is detected. I review the recordings every four or five days by swapping out SD cards, since the cameras are too far away from the house for the WiFi connection to reach them. Sometimes a single card contains only four or five videos, while another might have over twenty. If the camera sensor is set to too sensitive a trigger, I can end up bringing home a card with over 100 clips, and in those cases, the bulk of the videos are a collection of the wind blowing—literally.
But I watch them. I watch each clip of uninterrupted branch billowing (and nothing more) because…
…because you never know when one of those 50-second videos is going to pick up the lurking figure of our intrepid Cascadian mascot, Bigfoot. Whidbey Island inherited scores of new residents during the pandemic, and there’s no reason to believe that Bigfoot isn’t one of them. To be clear, I believe in science, but I also believe in believing, for the fun of it, and until Mulder and Scully close this case, I choose to watch minutes and minutes of mostly nothingness. Just in case.
Listen for the steps at the 29-second mark. Again, this sound is almost certainly a buck, but there’s a slight, slight possibility that Bigfoot was making his way back to the mainland to exchange his ill-gotten gifts for boxing day.
This most certainly is a deer, with owl accompaniment.
Last Leaves and Little Buds
I used to stop paying much attention to the natural world once the brilliant October leaves dropped off and were promptly raked away. I thought: ‘Well, that’s it for beauty! Nothing to see here until spring.’ November through March seemed like one grayish-brown scaffold of skeletal remains. And after the Christmas presents were opened, even the remaining colored lights still hanging about town could not cheer me up, for the last calendar days had nothing to offer except the usual collection of “Best of the Year” and “Those We Lost” lists.
I have to say, those customary summaries of famous and accomplished people who died during the year are getting a little uncomfortable. I used to read them and acknowledge a commonplace yet genuine sadness to see another great actor or formidable author, musician or artist leave the rest of us here to sort out the remainder of our lives without their insight and compassion. At twelve years old, I leaned on a sentiment that could best be described as something like, That’s too bad, but they were old and lived a long life. (Everyone else is so old when you are twelve!) If you’re lucky, you survive a few more decades, and you have no idea how to define a long life because you aren’t sure if your own will be long enough, large enough, loving or loved enough.
The micro-seasons exercise has given me a good lesson on the value of appreciating what is actually surrounding me, instead of longing for what isn’t there.1 Ok, so the maples are naked—what else? What else have they got? What can I see through them that I couldn’t see a month ago? The damned Barn swallows are on vacation. So what?! Look at this bouquet of Varied thrush tackling the produce section that is the huckleberry shrubs—I’ve never seen that bird before! Never even looked for it.
This last phase of the micros-seasons has led me to discover how much is truly going on out there, underneath the scaffolding, the skeletal remains. Veins and muscles and vital organs—it’s all there—folding currents of air under its wings, flowing inside budding stems, and collecting itself for what’s next in its miraculous life.
Micro-Seasons Thirteen Through Eighteen
November 22nd - December 21st
Thirteen — Varied thrush feast on berries: Nov 22nd - 26th
Fourteen — Salmon berry leaves rust: Nov 27th - Dec 1st
Fifteen — Red alders release their last leaves: Dec 2nd - 6th
Sixteen — Buds of the flowering current form: Dec 7th - 11th
Seventeen — Kinnikinnick berries fatten: Dec 12th - 16th
Eighteen — Stillness; the longest nights: Dec 17th - 21st
The bucks are less active this time of year, but they still walk the trails. Here’s a valiant looking one that is new to our neck of the woods.
And finally, Cassidy, who is still quite shy, but seems to be at her full adult height now.
【HHH】This post was certified as human-created by Authogrpah.
In the first quarterly Stirred Zoirée, “January. (I’ve Got This!)”, the Stirred Community will be sharing our best survival tactics for January. What playlist are you putting together to serenade you through the longest month of the year? What are you taking off your plate (or putting on it) to appreciate your one precious life just a little bit more? We’ll be sharing this and as well, I’ll tell you a bit more of what I’ve been noticing during the first quarter of my micro-seasons exercise.
January. (I’ve Got This!) will take place from 4:00 - 5:00 on Wednesday, January 3rd, Pacific Time. All paying subscribers will receive a Zoom link to join the Zoirée by 5:00 PM on January 2nd. If you don’t receive a link and would like to join, please leave me a comment or send me a note on the Substack app.