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The True Story Of My “Pet” Hawk.

Hello friends! Tonight’s feature image is titled “Watching From Above 22718” and is available for purchase by the instructions at the bottom of the article.

The little boy played in meadow doing things that a country boy in the 70s and 80s would find natural. He climbed trees and rocks. He caught salamanders and crayfish out of the creeks and puddles. He made swords from sticks and did battle with the trees standing in for the bad guys. One day he was having an adventure down in a marsh when he had that eerie feeling of being watched. He scanned the trees and bushes but there was nobody. He looked for signs of a bear or coyote but the woods was empty. Then he looked up. Perched on a branch in the top of a nearby walnut tree was the largest hawk he’d ever seen. It sat there like a statue only cocking it’s head every so often. He was profoundly curious about the raptor. He’d never been this close to one in wild before. The hawk was large for a hawk but too small to be a threat to him or the cattle. So he watched the hawk back. After a few moments he tried to speak to it in the same calm voice he was taught to use around pets and livestock. The cocked it’s head to the other side but otherwise didn’t react. After a while he got bored and moved his adventure to another part of the farm only to find that the hawk had followed him. Ove the next few days this pattern continued. No matter where the boy played the hawk turned up eventually. So he gave the bird of prey a name worthy of an avian hunter. The name was “Falcor”. A combination of Falcon and his favorite comic book hero at the time which was Marvel’s Thor.

I was the boy and Falcor was real. Although every time I tried to tell someone about my “pet hawk” they smiled at my wild imagination. I don’t know if Falcor visited other people or even if they noticed when he did. I kinda doubt that he did because he never seemed to come around when other’s were present. After a few times of being given “that look” by my friends and family I stopped mentioning him. For several years I’d go on one of my walks in the woods and Falcor follow me in the distance. He never got real close but he would always be in a nearby tree. I couldn’t explain why until one day when I was older I told the story of “Falcor the hawk” to a professor in my wildlife biology class. He was the first one to actually believe that the hawk was more than just the wild imagination of a little boy who played in the wilderness. He also had a pretty logical explanation for the bird’s odd behavior. He had done some work with The West Virginia Raptor Rehabilitation Center and theorized that Falcor had come out of that program and that for some reason I must have reminded him of one of his caretakers. So it turns out that Falcor may have been waiting to be fed. Whatever the hawks motivation was to follow me around for a few years he still the coolest “pet” that I never actually owned and he has severed as the inspiration for a couple of characters in a couple of fiction stories that I will finish one day. Even today I’m reminded of him every time I see a hawk that seems to just be hanging out near humans.

Image Titled “The Hunter On The Fence Post.

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When The Sun Sings

Color Photography

I sit in the cab of my big blue truck and watch the mists coalesce into droplets on my windshield. This winter has been soggy even though it’s a little warmer than normal. As the beads roll down the glass I close my eyes and recall a warm breeze that crossed my yard and gently rung the chimes. The wind smelled of mint and fresh cut grass. If I concentrate enough I can feel the warmth on face as a warbler trills out his love song. On the edge of the yard the flowers hum melody as thousands of tiny wings play in the breeze. The flowers shake and weave as the bumblebees drink their fill. They’ve become used to presence and pay no attention to me as I approach the sea of bright colors. They rise effortlessly into the air going from plant to plant. To me, they resemble an armada of tiny zeppelins in some steampunk vision of a future metropoulos.

The bumblebees have no worries as they work. The sun’s song is a call for them to live as God intended. Their lives are their own with little thought as to the ticking of a clock.

I hold the moment intensely in my mind with all its details intact and open my eyes with a deep breath. The gray sky hangs low but I feel a little warmer as I turn the key in the ignition and the rhythmic thumping of the wipers pushed the water aside. It’s time for the big blue truck to carry me back home.

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The Sentinel

black and white photography

Hello friends! Tonight’s feature image is titled “Sentinel 123119” and is available for purchase by the instructions at the bottom of the article.

Throughout the night the cold North wind howled has the rain battered the glass in vain. The caretaker sat in his spot as he did every night making sure that all the machinery was running to keep the light on. In his modern lighthouse the duties are simple. If the main power goes out he flips the switch on the generator to restore power. He listens to radios in case of a distress call. That’s about it. To pass the time he tosses cards into a hat or plays solitaire. Sometimes he reads or works that Rubik’s cube that he’s never figured out. But tonight was different. Tonight one of the radios crackled to life. “Hello” was all the small voice said. There caretaker sat his coffee down with a thud that slashed a little coffee onto the 3 of diamonds. He paused and gave a disgusted grimace as he saw the stain form on the edge of card. He lifted the microphone from it’s bracket mounted on the side of the radio and gave his identification numbers along with asking what emergency was taking place. “Can’t sleep” was the only reply. The caretaker realized that the disembodied voice emanating from the overhead speaker in his office was that of child. The caretaker keyed the microphone and said ” well, you’re going to need to find some other way to deal with it. This is an emergency frequency and you can’t play on it. Go back to bed and you’ll be asleep in no time. ” After a few moments of silence the caretaker returned the microphone to it’s place. He was frustratingly trying to clean up the coffee from the edges of the cards when the radio crackled again. “I think it might be a emergency” the small voice said. The caretaker retrieved the microphone and spoke again. “Why do you think it’s an emergency?” We was dubious but his job requires him to respond. “Because I’m scared and that means it’s an emergency.” The child on the other said. “Obviously” the caretaker muttered under his breath. He keyed the microphone again. “Okay. What are scared of?” There was another long pause. “The storm. I can’t see the light of the lighthouse from here.” The child said. The caretaker thought for a moment. The lighthouse was on a hill but there was taller hills around. With the storm even the powerful beacon on his tower might be obscured by clouds and heavy rain. He transmitted his reply. “I am at the lighthouse and I promise you that the light is shining. Go back to bed and you’ll be okay.” He smiled at the cleverness of how he handled the call. But then the radio lit up again. “Yes but I can’t see it.” The caretaker knew he should have thought of that. He also knew that he couldn’t keep the frequency tied up in case a real emergency occurred. He could send a first responder to check on the child but he doubted that the child could even give the address. Then an inspiration hit. “Well then, there’s only one thing left to do. I’ll need to commission a deputy lighthouse and a deputy caretaker to be in charge.” The caretaker asked if the child had a flashlight and a roll of paper towels. The child found the items the caretaker radioed the instructions to let the roll of paper serve as a tower and to shove the flashlight into cardboard tube so that light could shine out in all directions. When the child finally stopped transmitting the caretaker looked out to see that the storm had passed long before the conversation ended. All the child needed was for someone to talk him through the darkest parts of the night. As the caretaker was locking up for the day he realized that that it wasn’t really light from the lighthouse that was needed. It was the light from inside that needed to be reveied.

Changing The World. ( An observation of action in time )

black and white photography

Hello friends! Tonight’s feature image is titled “Muddelty Creek Barn 11220 SV” and is available for purchase by the instructions at the bottom of the article.

When I first started documenting the demise of the old barn on Muddelty Creek she still had most of her roof. Now the winds have claimed the rusted tin that once was her crowning glory. The straight lines of her wooden ribs would have been crafted with loving care but now they’re twisted broken.

Even so, she fights to remain standing and rebuffs the gales of winter. The drive to exist renews her strength in spite of what the eye sees. But time will eventually be winner and one day only the footprint will remain.

In a comment to Tea With Jennifer on her post Living Life Well I mentioned the question “What have you done with your dash?”

The story goes that on your memorial there will be two dates. The day you were born and the day God calls you home. These dates are separated by a – that represents all the days in between. And that’s the most important part. That where you lived. All of the love, all of the good times and all of the struggles, everything is in that dash. What it means is up to you. As long as you have breath you are creating the future and you have a purpose. An individual might not be a super hero and save the world but you’re a super hero to someone. You might not leap tall buildings in a single bound but if you have a word of encouragement to share you might lift someone else over the top. The world is moved bit by bit and moment by moment by the many hands that do what they can as the opportunity arises.

So what have you done with your dash? You changed the world and you are changing the world still. But the direction of that change is up to you.

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Forage Friday #44 Polemonium Reptans (Jacob’s Ladder)

Uncategorized

Hello friends! Tonight’s feature image is titled “Small Wonder In Winter” and is available for purchase by the instructions at the bottom of the article.

Disclaimer: This is a plant that I’m just now getting to know. That means that it’s very likely that I could be mistaken about some of the information covered in the article. But that’s also why I always advocate that you do further research before trying any wild plant.

The cool crisp air is envigoreating as I head out to see what I can see. The dry leaves crunch under my feet as carefully stride to my little quiet spot on the edge of my property. The spot has become my sanctuary of the past few years and I’ve truly enjoyed stepping out at different times of the year to observe the minor changes in the landscape. On one particular day I spotted the green leaves creeping over the leaf litter in December. I probably should have noticed it a long time ago but I didn’t. It looked like something that I should recognize but I couldn’t quite place it. So I waited and I watched to see what the tiny leaves developed into. But even after several weeks of unseasonably warm weather the little plant didn’t grow. I looked through all my reference books and it seemed to look like everything with a small compound leaf. So I finally turned to the West Virginia Native Plant Society on Facebook for a little help with the ID. It wasn’t long before I got a reply and a direction for research. The plant turned out to be Polemonium Reptans.

Now there’s a reason why I use the scientific name for tonight’s post. Like most plants Polemonium Reptans is known by a number of common names including, Creeping Jacob’s Ladder, Jacob’s Ladder and False Jacob’s latter. It’s even known by the name Greek Valerian.

That’s where the confusion comes in. Because Polemonium Reptans has a bunch of cousins and all are commonly called “Jacob’s Ladder”. And when you are interested in the food or medicinal qualities of a plant different species within the genus might have different qualities both beneficial and undesirable.

Also, the common name “Greek Valerian” is a little deceptive because true Valerian is a completely different family of plants with sedative properties while “Greek Valerian” seems to be more of an anti-microbial herb. In fact Polemonium Reptans is also called “Abscess Root” for that very reason.

So tonight I have a start on a plant that has caught my interest but one that I have not really researched in depth. Partly because I seem to be at the Easternmost extent of its range. I found tonight’s feature image growing beneath yellow birch and a magnolia on an almost vertical Northeastern slope. The research so far suggested that it likes stream banks and rich soil.

The medical uses I’ve found are that it’s anti-inflammatory, anti-microbial and promotes sweating. ( I also found it listed as “sweatroot” ) The internet also says that it is seldom used. That could be because it’s also described as not tasting very well or because there’s so many better options. So I’m going to do more research on this one and give you a part 2 in the spring when this little Phlox ( yes, I found another name ) comes into a beautiful bloom.

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