One Triangle Goose*

*A song that has been in my head for days. I hear it on the radio and can't make out what the chorus is. It sounds, to me, like "One triangle goose", and even though I know that's not what it is actually saying, that is what goes through my ears when it's on.
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Speed bumps in life are inevitable. We need them to expand as a person, to force us from our comfort zone and grow in new directions. Life would be flimsy and unsubstantial without them.

Some of life's speed bumps are a fantastic shove into new realities....marriage, the birth of your children, finding the most perfect job you could imagine for yourself. These are pleasant, soul-thrilling experiences.

Other speed bumps can be soul-searing. The unexpected death of a loved one, divorce, major illness. These are the ones that can run the whole spectrum of character-building. They can build you up strong or knock you flat. It's your choice as to which it will be.

I'm no different than anyone else, when it comes to my life's speed bumps. I've tried to excel at the good and tried to roll with the bad. The choices I made have dictated the direction of my life.

I was a young, irresponsible person once. We all were. I made choices at some turns in the road that had far-reaching consequences.
There is a line in "Out of Africa" that I think of frequently...
"I think the world was made round, so we could not see too far down the road."

My life has been charmed lately....a stable life, two great kids, great friends and a position at an organization that fulfills me and allows me to hold my head up high, proud that I am making a difference in the world.

But what happens when a voice from the past turns up, and instead of reminiscing about the fun and the good, shouts into my face all the real and imagined wrongs I am guilty of? Things that I haven't thought about in years, because the person I was is not the person I am now?
How do I deal with that?



What is the statute of limitation on bad choices? Do I deserve to be punished for a bad choice I made when I was a teenager or in my early twenties, when I have spent my life since then doing my best to be the best person I can be?
It has me in a tailspin, this voice from the past. Not from what the voice is saying, but the feelings it has awoken in me. Am I a better person? Have I evolved into what I wanted to be?
When does my responsibility end for situations that I would handle in a completely different way now, than I would have 10 or 20 years ago?

And just like that song* that will not stop running through my head with the wrong words, I cannot stop my thoughts from running in the wrong direction...backwards. Toward those irresponsible choices, the mess I was. It has proven to be impossible to see the real and true parts of myself while the song of the past serenades me from around the wrong turn in the road.

And until I can rouse myself from this abyss, I will stare at the map.
Not to find out where I need to go, but to figure out where I am.

A flock and a friend

An invitation from a friend took me to a quiet corner of perfection.

A local lake with a vast expanse of lotus, a full moon and a special gathering of special birds.

Around 200 vultures.

She had seen this spectacle the night before, and hoped to experience it again.


We approached as quietly as we could,

but the trees shook and cracked as the birds moved to another.



Stiff wings created a whistling song as they transferred themselves to the opposite side of the parking lot.

Tree after tree protested the weight of the vultures, each bird weighing about 4 pounds.

As the vultures settled for the night, we sat near the water, saying goodnight to the sky.



Trying different settings on my camera, to replicate the beauty that was unfolding around us.

(Had to sneak to catch sight of our Nina...She's in the lower left corner)


I can't wait to go back.

We interrupt these posts to bring you randomosity

Isabelle's birthday cake:

She wanted creepy and we delivered.





I think an orthodontist is in Lorelei's future.

Bird walk today with some friends:

Mary Ann, the dope with no blog to link to.


Kathi, aka KatDoc, aka everyone's favorite vet.

The fog burned off, thankfully...


Aww...is that a dead snake on the path?



No. It's...a belt.

The six foot, three-foot iguana

Our last day in Miami found us with time to fill. I really wanted to bird before we headed back to Ohio, so we looked at a map of the area. Since we didn't rent a car, we were at the mercy of the public transit system (aka, the city BUS).
We got off at the Oleta River State Park, Florida's largest urban park. And wow. It seemed so remote, we forgot we were in the middle of a major city.

In the heat, I was grumbling inside my head that a car would be nice. But as wonders unfolded right at our feet, I realized that in a car, we would be missing it all.

We were walking along a canal and I was looking at a log.
Oh, wait. That's not a log.

The log had a head and a tail.
Florida has more than its share of exotic, non-native animals living in it.
This is one that many people there actively hate.

(Iguana iguana), also known as the Green Iguana.

(They come in colors other than green.)


I haven't laid eyes on an iguana of this size since my sister-in-law's pet Sam passed away. He was about six feet long. And I have never seen one in the wild.

The majority of feral iguanas in Florida are releases and escaped pets, but a smaller population came from Central and South America as passengers of hurricanes. In places where iguanas are native, they are called "Chicken of the Tree"....because they taste like chicken. Yum.

While they look like something out of a dinosaur movie, they are gentle giants who would rather run that fight. Arboreal herbivores, they are raising the ire of many a gardener in Florida.


We pointed him out to the girls, and they were over the moon about it. I had told them of the "Frozen Iguana Shower" in January of 2008. During record cold temperatures, iguanas everywhere were falling from the trees, unable to maintain their metabolism. They were littering the sidewalks all over Florida. I think I would have liked to see that.

As we admired him, we failed to notice something. It wasn't until I uploading the pictures that I saw that this big dude was missing something.

COUNT THE FEET.
Three feet instead of four. I don't know what could have bitten off the foot of a huge iguana, but judging by his size and health, I guess he doesn't miss it.



We ventured too close, and he made his escape through the water to the other side of the canal.

Closer to her as she moves farther away

This trip was a trip of firsts for not only Geoff and me, but also the girls. They had never been on a cruise ship (or any boat even remotely approaching the size of this!), and the only time Isabelle has been out of the country was a trip to Canada when she was 9 months old.

Lorelei is happy wherever she is. Whether it's in the bathroom, singing to her feet, or swaying and dancing on the Lido deck of the Carnival Imagination.

Isabelle is a tougher nut to crack. Her budding personality tends to the suspicious side, content to stand back and approach new experiences on her own timetable. I have been walking a fine line of parenting: Letting her do things at her own pace, and recognizing when she needs a push towards something she will love, if she only lets herself go.
I have been watching her mature and grow this year, and it seems faster than it has ever been. She is becoming the person she will be as an adult, and it has left a permanent lump in my throat.


I have a treasure trove of photos of my sweet, leggy girl, so it was tough to decide what to include on this post.
The one day we were on the island, Isabelle and I signed up for a snorkeling excursion. Isabelle wants desperately to be a marine biologist when she grows up, so I jumped on the chance for her to swim among marine wildlife.
This is why I didn't bird at all while we were on land. I took one for the team. :)

You will notice that most of these photos do not show her face. She has an issue with getting her picture taken, so I am forced to be sneaky.

As we waited for the ship in Miami, Isabelle found a spot at the pier to penetrate with her eyes, searching for fish to identify.




The more she stood there, the more comfortable she became, and her body language followed suit.




We waited for the snorkeling excursion to start, and Isabelle focused intensely on the turquoise waters of the bay.


We arrived on Blackbeard's Cay for the snorkeling trip...and Isabelle nearly fainted from joy when she saw the part of the beach cordoned off for the "Swimming with Stingrays" group. And then got closer to fainting when she saw a school of bright blue needle fish swimming among the stingrays. She dutifully checked them off of her Life Fish List (yes, she actually keeps a List...wonder where she gets that from?).

We snorkeled on the other end of the beach, and though the marine life was very sparse, it was fun anyway. Just being in that perfectly clear water with my amazing daughter was enough for me.

She spent more time staring into the water than actually being in the water. Snorkeling was a challenge for her, so I let her float from place to place, just happy to be there with her.
(And secretly and happily pushing that shutter down, over and over)



Okay. This one makes a sob catch in my throat. I can't even find the words to explain why.

I just can't....I mean, look at her. I made that.


My beautiful, bright, unsure, sweet and funny girl.




Side story:
I mentioned the stingrays in their own part of the beach. Supposedly behind a ring of fish nets?
While we were snorkeling on the part of the beach that was "non-Stingray", someone yelled out:
"STINGRAY!!!!"

Obviously, one had escaped the pen.
We watched them with scared awe (though we didn't have to worry...events like this, cut off the "stinger" on the ends of their tails, so the paying public doesn't end up dead the Crocodile Hunter). But it was unnerving, nonetheless.
At one point, I was happily snorkeling along, when the thing swam right under me.
I like to think of myself as a cool customer, but....well. I think I jumped about 10 feet out of the water. And then got the heck out of the water.


Here's a short video of "Blacky", as Isabelle called him.

My only lifer of the trip

Let's get this out of the way so we can move on to the zillion other things I want to show you.

After boarding the ship on Friday, we relaxed, swam in the deck pool, wandered and marveled at the sheer size of the ship...and how expensive everything was. I had a few rounds of Rum Punch.

We pulled out of Miami in the early afternoon. As we left Miami behind, two birds swirled above us.
My binoculars were too far away, so I grabbed my camera and started firing away.
The shape of the birds was unlike anything I had seen, but it also reminded me of pictures I had seen in field guides.



I zoomed in as far as the camera would go, and peered at the display.

A completely unique shape...and a slash of fiery red on the throat.

Magnificent Frigatebird. Life Bird number 225. Whoot!
And standing on the deck of a ship, with no other birders to share in my joy. Sigh.
The girls thought it was pretty cool, though.

Hola from Miami!

Not too much to say tonight, since the Intertubes are hinky at this hotel.
We are in Miami, Florida, on our way to a cruise to the Bahamas in the morning.

As an Ohio birder who doesn't travel much, a bird unseen in Ohio causes me to salivate.

When we vacationed in Florida last year, my Isabelle found a Loggerhead Shrike, a lifer.
This time, she found one for me AGAIN.



I was able to slowly approach this bird and got to within FEET of it before it got uncomfortable.
(I also have video of it singing..saving that for another post)

Monk parakeets are in every palm tree, and when they land on the ground, they blend perfectly with whatever ground cover they have here.

I love them. Probably because I don't live here and have to listen to them all day long.
Lorelei said today, while watching some, "They are so cute! I want to bite their little heads off!"


Brown pelicans were ubiquitous along the surf:

How does something that ungainly-looking get its butt off the ground?

Sanderlings abound.

Might be weird, but I always think of Laura when I see a Sanderling.
Which makes no sense...one is tiny and cute and one is tall and Jersey-ish.