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Teddy

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Most of us have been sequestered during the last couple of weeks, preoccupied with the health and well-being of our loved ones and ourselves. Some have been busy providing health care and other critical services.

Thanks to wet weather,  Teddy and I have stayed close to home on our walks.  It’s been an opportunity to appreciate spring in the neighborhood. Waving at neighbors and greeting them (from 6′ away) is one way to hold on to a feeling of connection.

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Despite the human state of anxiety, the natural world has moved forward and suddenly it is spring.

Teddy stopped to examine pee mail the other day and I noticed tiny red maple leaf buds beginning to stretch and uncurl, ready to meet their season in the sun. Other trees are heavy with so many blossoms there is enough left over to carpet the ground.

Small white daisies adorn  neighbor’s lawns, and daffodils are already nearly done blooming.

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I noticed a robin, just one, sitting and singing from the most prominent peak of each house on the block. One robin for each house. I admire the robins for their equitable distribution of territory.

 

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Peace that comes from getting close to nature can be as simple as stepping outside and paying attention. I hope you are clinging to good things, the people and things that keep you grounded while we wait for this strange time to pass, and it will pass. Be well.

 

False Spring

I’ve been sick and tired of the cold, gray, wet world we’ve been living in for weeks. Then, as though to answer a prayer, the sun came out to play for an entire day recently!

By early afternoon, I only needed a light jacket to be outside. The streets had filled with children riding bikes and scooters, tossing balls, and celebrating the arrival of sunshine.

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Grownups were walking dogs, and greeting each other on the street. There is a particularly friendly ambiance in the air when an unexpected sunny day follows weeks of cold rain.

Teddy and I eagerly left the house planning a long walk around Gettman Trail, but we were barely out the door when he began favoring his right front paw. For his sake, I opted for the shorter walk around Shaad Park. His limp  disappeared by the time we got to the park making me wonder if the little dog had a reason to fake it.

The last time we visited Shaad Park it was a cold and foggy morning (Cancelled Flights). Teddy and I were alone on the hill that day. there were no hikers and no children using the playground.

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This sunny day was different. Grandparents sat on a bench near the playground watching children use the slide and play in the sand.

With the fog gone, we found brilliant views waiting for us on top of the hill. Teddy and I stood by ourselves soaking up warm sunshine and fresh air, feasting our eyes on the  valley and the hills surrounding it.

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Blue Jays, perky little wrens, and Robins flew noisily from one large old oak to another. They were far too busy to pose for me. The ground was wet and sponge-like from recent rains. Muddy water threatened to fill my shoes but I took the soggy path anyway.

I knew it wouldn’t last of course. It’s not really spring just yet. That sunny day was just a short reprieve from the monotony of winter, but it did remind me to be patient.

In only weeks, the birds will begin the busy nesting season, daffodils will push through moist warming soil, and lipstick-red tulips will brazenly declare true spring. Thanks to a little taste of sunshine the other day, I’m willing to wait.

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There’s almost always a delightful collection of Tonka Trucks in the sand pit. They are only temporarily abandoned. The owners had been called home the afternoon I was there.

Cancelled Flights

 

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My little red dog was happy to inspect gopher holes and follow his nose at Schaad Park the other day. On the other end of the leash, I was disappointed that a cold, thick fog had erased the view from the top of the hill.

Schaad Park, on Eagle Street in Newberg, has a small playground with a sandy play area where neighborhood children often leave their Tonka trucks overnight. An impressive thirty-foot slide on the playground is said to be the longest in Oregon.

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Despite the discouraging fog that morning, I decided to climb the hill and walk the mile-long Schaad Park Loop, up the zig-zag path to the top of the hill, around the perimeter of the winter-yellowed grass and craggy trees that make up a slice of precious Oak Savannah.

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From the hilltop, the valley below had disappeared in the fog; the community, the hospital in the distance, and the green hills beyond. All of it temporarily erased. Sounds were muffled by the fog so that Teddy and I faced the quiet morning alone and in silence.

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I wouldn’t want that foggy gray silence all the time, but it was eerily beautiful for a morning walk.

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Scrub jays usually hang out on the hill but that morning not a single one could be heard screeching or seen darting through the trees. There was no bird noise at all.

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One small bird sat quietly in a bush not far from us. She took note of me and Teddy, turning her head to look at us, but refusing to be startled out of her perch.

 

A small flock of Juncos, usually such noisy little chirpers, sat quietly together in a large bush.

Yesterday, as the sun was shining, we returned to the top of the hill.  Scrub Jays flew and screeched noisily while Robins and Juncos flitted about and darted from tree to tree.

The fog was gone, regularly scheduled flights had resumed.

Happy 2020 to You!

 

 

 

Close Call

Teddy and I walked the Gettman Loop by the golf course a few days ago. There was a large stand of  blackberry bushes covered in juicy, ripe berries at the beginning of the path.
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Teddy
After enjoying a few of the sweet berries, we walked along the golf course until the trail dipped sharply. Suddenly, we were in the middle of a forest surrounded by tall trees, ferns, and thick underbrush. Not quite full light yet, the heavy canopy made the forest feel like dusk.
As we walked, the only signs of life were the soft sound of my sneakers on the dirt, small birds calling, and occasional rustling in the bushes. Half-way through the forest trail, Teddy stopped abruptly, stayed cautiously behind my legs and stared intently into the brush. When I tugged on his leash, he refused to move past whatever was lurking a mere three feet ahead. I trusted the dog sensed something, but I couldn’t see what it was.
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I remembered a cougar recently being reported near the Tryon Creek Natural area in Portland. If a cougar visited near my friend Suzy’s home in Oregon City (Suzy’s Gardens)  last year, only blocks from a busy business area, why wouldn’t a cougar  be here, in the dark early dawn of the forest?
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Photo: Shutterstock
I imagined myself fighting off a cougar while Teddy ran for his life and I felt no confidence at all about the outcome. I reached for the pepper spray in my jacket pocket. Not much bigger than a tube of lipstick, my weapon seemed more likely to convince an angry cougar that he wanted me dead!
There we stood, me and Teddy, alone in the dim early morning light on the far side of the golf course where not a soul would hear me scream… because no one else was foolish enough to be in the forest before dawn while hungry killers with huge incisors and sharp claws confidently prowled the underbrush.
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Shutterstock
Should I boldly march forward or retreat? Was I doomed either way? As I weighed my options, a pair of chipmunks tumbled out from the underbrush onto the path in front of us. I jumped and yelped loudly. You might say I screamed. Either way, the terrified little creatures fled back to where they had come.
Obviously Teddy let his imagination get the best of him.

Cedar Creek Trail

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The lazy, drone of bullfrogs follows Teddy and I up and down the Cedar Creek Trail during our early morning walks. Bullfrogs, merciless hunters of our native wildlife, are with us to stay, so I allow myself to enjoy their tuneless call.unnamed-6

Several weeks ago, my dog Teddy and I stumbled upon the Cedar Creek Trail behind the YMCA in Sherwood. Stepping into such a peaceful world so near the busy highway was a delightful surprise.

The paved trail is surrounded by lush greenery; lovely suburban homes sit on one side and natural wetlands and wildlife haven stretch the length of the other side. In quiet places along the creek, red wing blackbirds sing from the top of old snags, and impressive stands of tall fir trees create a forest habitat where chipmunks play amidst fallen logs on the forest floor.

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In the busy days since recently moving from Milwaukie to Newberg, I’ve missed the small daily adventure of immersing myself in the sight and smell of the outdoors and quietly observing the ordinary lives of suburban wildlife. Fortunately, I’m learning that this area has many opportunities for outdoor exploration.

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Our first morning on the Cedar Creek trail I kept expecting the path to end around the next corner, but it continued through several neighborhoods with side trails giving access to the main trail. I followed the path as it snaked alongside the natural habitat, stopping to listen to birdsong, smell the fresh air, and pay attention to occasional rustling in the brush.

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Along the trail I heard the buzz-trill of busy Towhees calling and flitting about in the low branches. I’ve never seen so many Towhees in such close proximity, though it is the busy nesting season. The songs of many birds fill the air and every few feet a robin hops about carrying a worm or grub. We would marvel at the beauty of the robin if we didn’t see them so often.

The creek flows evenly and gently in some places then stalls for a while, flattening out and providing quiet habitat for water birds and other creatures before turning into a gurgling, free-flowing body of water.

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Three tiny bunnies hopped about on the trail ahead of me one morning, then they dashed toward the brush when they saw me. One bunny allowed me to stand only a few feet from him while he held still and silent, hoping he had become invisible. In silhouette he looked like a little piece of yard art. As soon as I tried to get his picture he made a dash for the underbrush.

Two weeks ago, I watched a pair of quail moving in and out of the bushes and, a week later, saw the older birds with several recently hatched babies.

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Towhee 

I have yet to see a dog loose in the protected habitat, though there are plenty of dog walkers on the trail in the morning. Joggers, and dog walkers, birdwatchers, and day dreamers all seem to understand the importance of leaving the habitat to the wild creatures.

I’m just beginning to learn about the Cedar Creek Trail and other remarkable ways that the community has integrated wetland and natural habitat in the middle of human habitation. It’s a unique and extraordinary sign of a healthy community.

 

A Game of Cat & Mouse (and Dog)

Sometimes an insignificant event turns into a memory you can pull out and enjoy all over again.

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Only a few feet in front of me, a black and white cat tore across the street carrying something in its mouth. The hot July day had cooled after dark. Jasper and I could enjoy a quiet evening walk.  The sweet old dog didn’t pay any attention to the cat and probably wouldn’t have even if he hadn’t been blind.

I recognized the cat. She usually hung out on the porch of a house on Cardinal Street.

Once she reached the front lawn of her own yard the cat dropped a mouse on the grass. Then she settled down in front of her still-living prize and contemplated the many ways she would enjoy toying with the tiny thing. The porch light spilled on to the lawn, illuminating the scene.

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The mouse spent a few seconds quivering and gathering his senses. Perhaps he had been snatched so suddenly, and carried so swiftly through the neighborhood, he didn’t yet realize what had happened. Perhaps he was simply surprised to still be alive. The cat, cool and calm, narrowed her calculating feline eyes and watched

Tentatively, the mouse moved a few inches to one side. The cat calmly stretched her paw out and batted the mouse back. Then she relaxed again and waited for the unlucky rodent to play some more. She was in no hurry.

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Again, the mouse moved, this time in the opposite direction, and this time more quickly.

Kitty just slapped him back to center stage. The mouse was confused and disoriented.  He began frantically attempting to escape. Time after time the cat batted him back, sometimes rolling the mouse over in the grass, then sitting back to continue watching her little toy. It seemed the game would continue for some time.

I had just about decided to intervene. After all, this well-fed cat was cruelly entertaining herself. Suddenly a front door across the street opened. Yellow light spilled out the door and a small schnauzer followed. The dog spotted the cat and immediately tore across the street. For a minute it was a Tom and Jerry cartoon with the cat holding the mouse at bay and the dog in hot pursuit of the cat.

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Then kitty turned from her prey and raced to the porch of her home with the dog following. Before the dog could reach her the cat turned, humped her back, and hissed menacingly.

The schnauzer, who must have been familiar with sharp kitty claws, skid to a stop just out of the cat’s reach. He suddenly lost interest in sport, turned, and headed back to his home where a woman was still holding the door open for him. Only seconds had passed since she had let him outside.

The cat seemed to have forgotten her tiny plaything. She calmly lay down on the door mat and folded ladylike paws in front of her as if to say, “Nothing to see here.”

The mouse had disappeared.  He was headed home with quite a story to tell.