Did you ever stop to think... and confuse everyone around you?

Ivy and moss on a dead tree. ©Teresa Shumaker. 

While birding the other day, this tree made me stop in my tracks. As I stared at it in wonderment, my birding companions thought I had spied some interesting bird. Once they realized the tree was empty, and I was just lost in reverie, they moved on. It happens often. 

But, while I stood there transfixed, I couldn't help but wonder why. Why did this capture my attention for so long? 

I found beauty in the contrast of light in the ivy leaves and the dark trunk, and the contrast of colors from the vibrant blue sky to the muted greens of the moss. Moss is meant to be dreary, and even the brilliant morning sunlight that makes everything else vibrant couldn't coax any color from those drab tree-drapes. 

Also, I love what it symbolized and literally is: Out of death, there is life. What can be thought of as waste to one, can be something to build upon for another. 

I am a compulsive cleaner and organizer. In my youth I would gaze into the woods, or any scene, and think about what I would remove, add, or clean up to enhance its beauty. (Yes, I was an odd child. I am acutely aware of it, thank you.)

But, now that I have learned more about the world, those dead trees that I would have torn down, I now see as something the woodpecker cherishes, or another plant needs for support.

Just because we might not see the value of something, doesn't mean it's not the entire world to someone or something else. 

What a shame it would be if we had the complete power to make the world as we see fit. 

We have done enough damage with the tools we have already. 

This isn't meant as an attack or insult on humans; just an observation. We share this dilemma with every other animal that becomes too smart or successful for their own good — we just operate on a different level than the others do. 

Is it just me?

Banksia. ©Teresa Shumaker.

Is it just me, or do the seed pods from this Banksia tree look like the baby version of the plant from Little Shop of Horrors? 

They even look like they can carry a tune. 

Creepy. 

Side note: My husband is convinced it is because of that movie that I am terrified of dentists. Steve Martin did make a terrifying dentist, but Bill Murray's masochism didn't help, either. 

(I watched this movie so much when I was a kid, the VHS tape broke from excessive wear.)

Changes on the horizon

Last week, the Coast Guard sent us orders for my husband's next post.

Two weeks prior we were sent a list of 11 places and asked to put them in order of desirability.

Four were in Florida, one on Charleston North Carolina, two in Michigan, another in Ohio,  one in the middle of nowhere Maine, one in Texas and one in Kodiak Alaska.

I was overwhelmed. How do you go about researching into 11 different places?

Simple, you don't. You just make a list and turn it in and let the cards fall where they may.

There were places we really wanted, and there were places we definitely never want to go, but in the end it is out of our hands, so hoping too hard in either direction would just be a waste of energy.

When the day came, Matt left to get his orders. As I waited for him to come home with the news, I was thinking of all the places we didn't want to go, and how they have positive aspects too.

No matter where it was, I was going to be supportive and positive. (I like to think I am an optimistic pessimist. I expect the worst, but try to see the brighter side of the less desirable things.)

Since I was so completely focused on the worst, I was at a loss for a reaction when he said, "We are going to South Padre Island, Texas."

A = South Padre Island, Texas. Google Maps image. 

I had no expression on my face and couldn't find any words. He was momentarily concerned. It took me a long time to finally react, because I kept waiting for some shoe to drop, or to wake up from a dream.

We were hoping for Florida, because I have never been, it is warm, and the job he would be doing would was exciting. We feared the Great Lakes because I dislike cold weather. But Texas, 5 hours from our home town, being able to see family on the weekends, I never dreamed we would be so lucky.

Not only that, but Matt's job will be busy and he will learn a lot. And SPI — which is how people on craigslist refer to the Island — is one of the birdiest (that's totally a word, spellcheck) places in the continental U.S.

To add to the awesomeness of the place, I discovered there is a University of Texas down there with a great biology program. Hello Bachelor's degree. (I have put off finishing my bachelors for years.)

I have never been a religious person, but was brought up Catholic, and the concept of Guardian Angels has always comforted me. My mom said she prayed to her grandmother — our family's guardian angel — and asked that we be stationed somewhere that will give us the best opportunities.

I can't say with any certainty whether I am a believer or not, but it fills my heart with joy to think about. One thing is certain — I am extremely excited about our next adventure.

We will move on Jan. 1, the same day Matt moved to the Mendocino Coast. I can't help but notice how that seems serendipitous. The day of beginnings and endings is a perfect day for a move.  Stay tuned for pictures from Texas in 2014.

Chipmunk success

Chipmunk ©Teresa Shumaker

After two years of trying to catch a picture of this little guy, only to have them evade me or get a blurry picture, I got the shot. This chipmunk was sitting in the sun on a warm morning after a chilly night, and he didn't seem to care that I was present — as long as I kept a predetermined distance. 

I love the colors in his coat. 

Context: changing things from shocking to normal... Or in some cases, the other way around

Eared Grebe stretching. ©Teresa Shumaker. 

 Context is something we can often take for granted, but when it is missing the effects are drastic. This picture above is a photo of an Eared Grebe, stretching.

When I saw it unfold in real life, I thought it was a cute moment. Then, when I pulled it up in Lightroom I was surprised to see an image of what looks like a drowning bird. I actually hesitated to publish something that looks so stressful.

There is even something about the way the light is striking the features on its face that makes it seem in distress.

But, as you will see in the photo below. This little guy is perfectly fine.

Post-stretch feather ruffle. ©Teresa Shumaker.