I survive by speed and pinpoint accuracy; threading a moving needle at 180 miles per hour. To achieve less is to perish into the eternal dust.
Long Live The Queen!
Grand Appreciation for all Things Natural
“Tweens” Will Be “Tweens”
Mary and Anna’s Hummingbirds
In honor of upcoming Mother’s Day, I would like to pay a little homage to my mother Mary’s favorite bird, the Hummingbird. My late mother’s adoration for these iridescent, fascinating little creatures, inspired her to collect and display an elaborate collection of fanciful tea cups, paintings, books, prints and other various doodads. She once even hired an artist friend of mine to paint a mural on her bedroom wall that included a splendid red-throated hummingbird.
The Disappearance of Phoebe
As suddenly as she appears, she vanishes, and with her something inside me is lost. A void in place of the fullness she brought that first day and the days, weeks, and months that followed. Her absence is not soon forgotten in the dizzying array of pretenders who come and go in their dispassionate anonymity.
An Unexpected Gift
A black phoebe has taken a liking to our backyard, perching variously on the spent orchid stem, the tomato plant cage, the long slender stem of the Agapanthus, and the telephone wire. She visits often throughout the day, feeding on the small yellow moths she spies in the grass, swooping down to snatch them and gliding back up to her perch to swallow them.
A Case of Mistaken Identity
Encounters with Nature
By Judith Deutsch
Today, more than ever, it is important that we show respect for nature and the world around us. Whether we share it with birds, reptiles, mammals, or micro-organisms, such as the Coronavirus, we need to understand and appreciate that we are not the only residents on earth.
I am thrilled that California has begun work on a migratory pathway for our native mountain lions to provide safe passage over heavily trafficked roadways, allowing for more genetic diversity.
In the 1970s, I worked at the J. Paul Getty Villa in Malibu, California, and during summers staff parked along the hillside to leave parking spaces for visitors. I came out one evening to find what I thought was a large dog sleeping on the hood of my burgundy Fiat. At 98 pounds and a height of 5 ‘3”, I moved to within 5 feet to tell him to “scat.” Imagine my surprise when he unfurled a long tail and turned a cat’s face to me! I spread my arms to make myself look larger (I learned this in Girl Scouts), made eye contact, backed up, wished him a lovely nap, and returned to my lab. An hour later, he was gone. The cats tend to come down looking for water, and he must have just eaten before taking his nap.
I also had a vegetarian coyote visit my organic garden in Mar Vista. He left the garden cats alone but dug up carrots and greens to eat. I suspect he was a pet dropped off in the mountains when he grew too large to keep. A barn owl now has a home in my neighbor’s yard, and a ring-tailed hawk visits us, regularly. Crows, ravens, hawks, and squirrels share the trees in the park where I walk. Each group has staked out its own real estate. We need to continue to share our space and accommodate wildlife to the best of our ability, using our heads when we meet them, whether unintentional or by design.
