Lost In Thought

Do you ever get lost in your thoughts at times trying to figure it all out? Often I bird for the adventure.  But lately, it's just for my sanity.  I guess the best way to describe what I'm feeling is emotionally numb. 

I've kept myself busy doing surveys, chasing "rarities" and finding ways to keep my mind occupied.  I see the friendly faces out on the trails and I am happy.  Winter seems to be flying by at a rapid pace here. And that of course means it's time to make some big decisions about this year. 

I watch the new birders chase with vigor and excitement over their new state or life birds.  I see the older ones linger in hopeful observations for something new and different in behavior or plumage. I find myself on the outskirts of it all watching them, watch the birds.  It makes me smile. I don't think it ever gets old. But I want to say to some of them, especially the younger ones, "Take it all in. This moment will never happen again. It might be similar, but the people will change. The birds will change.  Memorize it all. Sometimes you will never cross paths again with the person next to you." 

I think about the relationships that have been forged over the years with these birders.  Each one has their one or two "go-to's" for that chase. I am no different. 

Often in winter, I'll find myself in the grasslands counting sparrows and longspurs.  It's peaceful and calming.  Afterwards, we sometimes will stop for a glass of wine to celebrate our day. It seems to have become a new tradition. 

I've been moving slower and looking deeper at things.  They said this happens with many birders over a long period of time.  I often just enjoy watching the birds at my feeders now since there's not much to chase.  It's quite enjoyable.  I fill the feeders up on Friday night and then on Saturday, I sit with my coffee and cats and watch the birds come to the feeders.  After Micheal wakes up, we will go out for breakfast.  But not before putting in a load of laundry:)

I pick habitats now, not birds, to explore.  Then I/we walk and whatever happens our way....happens:)  Don't get me wrong, I still chase:)  A rare Bald Eagle showed up at my local park for an hour.  I had never seen a Bald Eagle in Pima County before!  Gotta see that stuff:)

I think the reason I'm in a "funk" is due to several things.  One. Over the past month and a half, I've lost 3 people. Just how much loss can one take after 3 years of this pandemic? Loss is a natural thing at a certain age, but I gotta say that some of these friends were TOO YOUNG! Two. There's not enough time in the day.  I feel burned out as a teacher.  The only redeeming factor is the kids, but sometimes you need more than that.  Three. Covid house projects need to wrap up! They were sure easy to start.  Now they must be finished so that I can get on the road again. The birds don't wait!

We all find inspiration and joy in the things we do and love but as I close in on retirement, I really want to do more of those things that make me happy.  And spend it with the people who matter.  We don't get forever in our relationships. I'd like to rekindle those old relationships from college again.  We just get the "now". Work has become less important. 

Sometimes, I imagine being a bird interacting with the great big public.  I imagine their routines every morning on that same route to work.  For the past 20 years during my drive, I've watched them do their thing every day.  The Harris's Hawks pop up on the power lines and hunt.  The Gilded Flicker sits on top of the Saguaro making his morning loud pierce for all to hear. The Rock Pigeons fly in formation like ice skaters making their figure 8's.  The Mourning Doves scatter as a Cooper's Hawk glide-streams towards that one dove not paying attention. 

We all walk our paths.  All of us trying to figure it out in our own way.  As many of my co-workers leave the teaching profession, often bitter and angry, I feel alone.  Over the past 2 years, everyone I have met in this profession has wondered about their "legacy" and what they've left behind.  As I walk the hallways here, there is no memory of them.  I remember them, but no one cared to let us know when they disappeared. They just silently vanished. When I began teaching in the 90's, there was recognition for a teacher's accomplishments.  Now there is nothing. Unless a paper in your mailbox with an automated "thank you" for your 20 years of service means anything to anyone anymore? 

When I discovered that fact over 10 years ago, I found myself falling in love with birding. There I could achieve acknowledgement for my work even though it was my hobby. And I found myself again. Deep down I have always loved the natural world but couldn't bring myself to hope that I'd get a job in it. Education allowed me to start right away at a young age so that I could retire earlier in life.  As a person said to me on the trails last week, "It's all about the QRT. Quality. Retirement. Time." 

In public, I try to avoid the crowds.  They make me anxious.  On a crowded mountain, we find an underground tunnel to escape!

If you gaze long enough at the Pronghorns below, you get lost in the golden haze. 

I laugh when I see wildlife "find a way" to survive in our chaos.  I admire it.  

One evening over the agricultural fields of Marana, I watched 2 Northern Harriers pair dance in the sky.  Another birder watched with me and stood there for a long time admiring their impromptu performance.  

I'd like to dedicate this blog to some important people who made a difference for so many others over the years. 

A gifted leader and principal, Dr. Sam McClung was a kind and loving soul.  He was a listener and believed in great debate.  Sam hired me at the opening of our school and we remained in contact after he left.  He was an outdoor aficionado as well. We shared a lot of stories over the years.  I worked as his Department Chair for Modern Languages until he left. I am grateful that we were able to say our good-byes in December.  He taught me not to jump to conclusions and look at the whole picture before making a judgement. Both he and friend Coach Dee reminded me of our "legacy".  And it has since been on my mind.  I took this pic at our end of the year staff lunch.  Sam and Debbie.  They were inseparable at work. When Debbie retired, he made sure he was there to celebrate her accomplishments.

The hardest one for me to sort out emotionally is the loss of my Mexican brother, Sergio(standing in the purple shirt). We were both young when we met.  He was 24 and I was 18.  Sergio taught me how to have fun and break the rules every once and awhile.  The stories that I have will go with me to the grave.  It was some of the craziest stuff I have ever done.  Once he came to visit my family and friends back in Wisconsin.  Again, there are stories that cannot be shared here.  He was a wild one and when things got really wild, like during a bar fight in a small town of Mexico, he was always there to protect me. And for the guy who got the glass bottle jammed in his head?  Well, he took the poor bleeding guy to the hospital and saved his life.  Even while we were doing something serious like helping this guy out, my brother had a knack for a laugh and making others feel better.  During our ride, Gypsy Woman(La Da Dee La Da Da) on cassette got jammed in the van's cassette player.  And it played over and over.  As we got to the hospital, LA DA DEE DA DA DA had us all laughing. I wasn't able to be there for his funeral.  I really feel for my Mexican family.  This is where I wish I was retired so that I could be there. That seems more important now than the work I do.  These people have given me so much.  It's why I went into the Spanish world for a profession.  Today, many of my former students are themselves Spanish teachers.  Thousands of others will remember the tales of treks to Mexico and Wisconsin. It all started with them and I love them dearly for showing me the way into my adult life. 

Back in December of 2020, I saw my birding friend/acquaintance Deb Finch.  We had known each other for 9 years.  Now we didn't hang out, but we did cross paths often on the birding trails.  During this time, we were chasing a Field Sparrow.  While on the trail, I heard a sadness in her voice. It was a reflective moment.  She was looking at the bird differently and absorbing the moment longer than usual.  This is a place we both had been to many many times. I took this picture so that I could remember this moment.  It was special.  We caught up. And so had her cancer.  Deb was kind.  She was funny.  She taught me about birds in those beginning years. Her message to me was never to wait.  After her husband passed away, she began the greatest adventure of her life.....serious birding! When her cancer went into remission, she knew the hourglass had turned in her favor for the moment. Remember in the beginning of this post when I said that every birder has their "go to" person in the birding world?  Deb's was Chris Benesh.  And Chris was Deb's.  When I saw those 2 together, it made me happy.  Deb and Chris remind me of the friendships that are forged together because of birds. Together they shared Deb's last trek to Africa(her 6th continent!) on a bird safari.  She was by that time getting very sick but Chris made sure that she accomplished her goals. It wasn't easy, but he made sure that it happened. That is true friendship.  It also broke my heart to read about their friendship and her passing. He made the most beautiful video dedicated to her.  On that Friday night, I had a few tears to shed.  I watched that video over and over again.

I know I haven't posted much in the past several months.  I've honestly been busy. But I've also lacked the words to express my feelings.  So many people need help right now.  We do the best we can when we can.  In Sam's case, I am working with our yearbook crew to address the legacy issue of our school and have a page dedicated to our school's first principal.  I need to go to Tlaxcala and be there for Delfina. And in the case of Deb, and with Deb's actions(ever since she had been diagnosed with cancer), it's live your life and don't wait for it to be over.  Go chase that bird.  Go travel. LIVE. That was my friend Sydney's motto as well. But with lots of color!  They say 50 is about feeling mortal.  As I approach this new decade, I am certainly feeling that pain.  I don't have the energy to deal with arguments or mean spirited people anymore.  I don't have that fight in me. I choose to live without the negativity.  Life is too short to waste on that nonsense. 

 And so I try.  I do my best.  Soon. I will fly again. And when a super rare Rusty Blackbird comes my way, I'm going to enjoy the moment.