Blog Post #10: Beyond the Backyard

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

10 a.m.

62 degrees Fahrenheit

It’s a gorgeous day today in Swissvale, PA. The sun is shining in a bright blue sky, the clouds are puffy white, the many different birds are singing and swooping to the bird feeders and back into the trees, more and more flowers are blooming, and this is just the beginning of spring. 

                                                                                                                     Over the past months, my backyard has continued to amaze me. When I began this blog in January, I had a very surface relationship with my backyard. I really did not expect to find much nature, let alone much to write about, through the winter months. How narrow my view was of what thrived just outside my backdoor! Now four months later, I look forward to witnessing the various, sometimes subtle, sometimes shocking, changes that happen out here every time I take the time to look. And this has been the key for me to unlock the wonder that is the urban nature of my backyard: taking the time to look. Not just a cursory glance when the flowers are in full bloom or when a fresh blanket of snow has fallen, but to sit quietly and observe. To get up and examine the minutia up close. To write down these observations and then allow them to lead me to thoughts and connections I don’t think I would have otherwise made. Because of this project, I have discovered the joy of the nature journal and the lyric essay. I have also been pleasantly surprised by how many people have mentioned to me that they’ve been reading my blog.

Flowering pachysandra

Narcissus x odorus: an heirloom daffodil

The surface relationship I had with my backyard at the beginning of this project was similar to my familiarity with nature writing as a genre at the beginning of this course. Although there are many natural images that appear in my poems, I did not consider myself a nature poet (although that is changing and I’m more confident in adopting such a title). I did not have an understanding of the many ways one could approach writing about nature. But there are as many ways to write about nature and as many different stories to tell as there are versions homes and places to explore. There is much debate about what and where nature is. To my way of thinking, this debate is lively and good for the genre, good for writers, good for readers, and good for nature. There is room in the genre for the gentle observations of a nature journal, the loud demands of a rant, the complexities of a braided lyric essay, the magnifying gaze of a poem, and all of the many other literary approaches tried and yet to be tried. But why? Because nature is all around us (although that is debatable). Nature is a part of us (although that is debatable). We are nature (although that is debatable). Nature matters, no matter who you are, whether you realize it or not. And it is the job of the nature writer to reach out and remind everyone else that this is true.

Rosebush

I fear my view of the world and how I write about it is forever changed. I no longer view a nature writer as someone who is a quiet observer wandering through the woods (although that is an important part) but someone who is connected to things both greater and smaller than themselves. That connection is what I am learning and what I refuse to give up. It started in my backyard. Now, I’m ready to move my camping chair into a better position to behold my front yard. 

Easter hyacinth along the side yard

Magnolia tree in our front yard

Blog Post #9: Backyard Birding

9:30 a.m.

58 degrees Fahrenheit

Feels like 58 degrees Fahrenheit!

Andre’s birthday was on Friday. Among the gifts he received from me, he got The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Eastern North America, a No/No Forest Green Original Bird Feeder with Roof Extension, and a 10 pound bag of black oil sunflower seeds. I admit these are gifts we can both enjoy. But all the better, right? So, after he opened his gifts (I spoiled him a bit this year, since next year we’re sure to be focused on “Baby” Lee’s first birthday) and the family room was satisfyingly littered with crumpled up out-of-date maps (my signature wrapping paper) and discarded paper and plastic packaging (a worry and rant I’ll save for another post), we headed outside with the feeder and the seed. I chose this particular bird feeder since it’s supposed to be ideal for black oil sunflower seeds (the most universal of birdseed), for all-weather, for songbirds, and will supposedly confound the squirrels. We hiked halfway up our backyard to the topmost hanging post, filled the feeder and hung it up. We admired our handiwork for a few minutes, while soaking up the last of the evening sun that was warming the backyard. Then we headed back inside, figuring it would take a little while (hours? days?) for the birds to discover the new feeder.

 

On Saturday morning, I looked outside to see a squirrel munching on the sunflower seeds we had inadvertently dropped on the steps when filling the feeder. I know that they can be a pest, but it was really fun watching the squirrel use its little hands to pick up each individual seed and munch on it. I also spotted a mourning dove (a.k.a. turtle dove) not far from the squirrel. I would have just called it a pigeon, but that was before I had the Sibley Field Guide to Birds in tow. Another bird even I knew, a robin, was poking around the yard but didn’t seem interested in the feeder.

Today, there are even more birds! In addition to the squirrels, robins, and mourning doves, there is a blue jay flapping in and out of the evergreen tree, squawking and chattering away. It is actually a little intimidating. I don’t think it likes me or the other birds existing. There are little birds of all sorts flitting about on the feeder. I’m not sure what type of birds they all are.

Tallulah can only watch from afar

I can tell that they are different, but they don’t hold still long enough for me to snap a decent picture, let alone flip through the bird book to identify them. I think one is a female cardinal, but that’s because there are definitely male cardinals flying around here. This is the most activity my backyard has seen in months! Even the crocuses seem to blooming brighter. It finally feels like spring, it’s even threatening to rain.