May 29 – Thankful for These Moments

Two of my goals this year are spending more time in nature and taking my camera along more to be intentional about observations as I work to improve my photography. Sunday at Hamburg State Park turned out to be a gorgeous day, and I wanted to take my camera back to the mill we’d toured the previous day to look around the dam outside and see what all was in the area of the bridge and the creek. We drove the short distance from our campsite to go exploring, but we decided to leave the dogs in their soft-sided kennel in the car with the windows cracked since the temperatures were cool. In areas like these, you never know what might be lurking under a log or near the water, so we left them in the truck to nap as we kept an eye on them from the bottom of the ramp near the water.

There are birdhouses all around Hamburg State Park, and as I checked information on my eBird account and Merlin app, I discovered that this was a birding hotspot. Just a few seconds of sound recording proved that there were many different species singing from the tops of the trees. Swallows, bluebirds, a variety of warblers, blue-gray gnatcatchers, and cardinals topped the lists in a few spots, along with vireos and wrens. I saw an Eastern Kingbird, too.

But swooping down first on one side of the dam and then the other was a Great Egret with a wide wingspan, its legs looking as skinny as those wire marshmallow roasters we hold over the fire, trailing in flight behind him.

I dashed across the road to get a glimpse from the bridge, clicking away all the while, as he led me straight to his friend – – a Great Blue Heron. They waded in the water on their thin backward-scissoring legs, scanning for birds, their necks craning up, down, and sideways with an odd humor, much like a dog that cocks his head back and forth when he strains to understand. Watching these birds was a highlight of my entire weekend!

I heard my husband calling my name, trying to get my attention from afar and be quiet all at the same time. He was standing frozen still, telling me to have my camera ready. I headed in his direction as he urged me to come quickly but approach slowly.

There. Do you see on that tree stump?

He pointed at the base of the stump just across the water, a few feet away.

I was looking for a bird.

I wasn’t expecting a snake.

But there it was, a venomous Cottonmouth, as big around as a giant summer sausage with its Zorro mask and owl eye patterns down its sides, looking a lot like an ellipsis inside parentheses to an English teacher. It had been approaching the top of the tree stump and turned around to seek shelter in the hole at the base when it saw my husband. It stopped briefly to flick its forked tongue at us for interrupting its plans, took us in for just a moment eye to eye, then continued on its way to shelter beneath the ground.

I felt blessed to have seen this snake in the wild (happy, of course, that it was on the other side of the water), and even more glad we’d left the dogs in the car. I was also counting my blessings that I could positively identify the snake. You see, a year ago, I joined two Georgia snake groups that are monitored by expert herpetologists who identify any snake posted on the page with a quick turnaround time. I’ve learned how to tell commonly mistaken species apart and gained an appreciation for the extensive role of snakes in our ecosystem. The groups are What Kind of Snake is This? Georgia and Georgia Snake Identification and Education, both on Facebook. As soon as I posted the photo and location, the response from the expert confirmed what I had learned from repeated similar sightings posted by others.

Venomous Cottonmouth, Agkistrodon piscivorus. Keep a safe distance to watch this one!

I’m grateful today for fascinating moments like these. I’m abundantly grateful for the men and women who fought bravely defending this nation and its places that I love and who ultimately gave their lives for the peace I enjoy today in these state parks full of quirky, underappreciated, and often misunderstood wildlife. I’m praying for the families whose hearts are heavy with remembering the joy their fallen loved ones brought, missing all the memories they sacrificed so that I could enjoy making these memories today. For us, this day is not about a day off from work grilling hot dogs in merriment, but one of taking time to realize that the rights and freedoms we have today have come only because those before us fought for them – and died for them.

And that is how we are keeping Memorial Day a sacred time of remembering and appreciating.

Hamburg Mill Dam
Barn Swallow
Day Lilies
Eastern Bluebird
Great Egret
Great Blue Heron and Great Egret
Great Blue Heron and Great Egret
My husband, standing across the creek from the Cottonmouth
Venomous Cottonmouth
Venomous Cottonmouth showing its forked tongue
A lovely sunset

May 27 – On Woodpeckers and Wieners

We arrived on site 29 at Hamburg State Park in Mitchell, Georgia in time for an all-beef hotdog on the electric grill last night, both looking forward to a long weekend of camping and spending time reflecting on those who made our freedom possible at the ultimate cost. As we drove here to this beautiful place to enjoy the peace, I couldn’t help wondering if those we are pausing to remember would be pleased if they were granted a visitor’s pass to come back and see how we’ve managed what they gave their own lives protecting.

I write this on the heels of a letter our district received from a concerned citizen about having school-related events in religious buildings. Because our auditorium is under construction, our small rural school district has had to reach out to churches for space this year; otherwise, students would not have had opportunities to celebrate their accomplishments with families there to share meals with them. The parent was upset because a Christian prayer was offered by a parent before a meal in a fellowship hall for a banquet that was not mandatory for students to attend.

Earlier this year, we had a county commissioner who wanted to go through every book on our library shelves because a child had checked out a book that had a character with two mothers – – our PUBLIC library shelves – – to remove a book not in keeping with his own opinions and values, for a book that was not mandatory for any child to read.

As I thought about choice and freedom as I grilled these wieners, I heard the familiar sound that told me my mother was nearby – – and sending a message, as she still does in relation to my thoughts.

A woodpecker.

Beating its head against a tree.

I looked up to see a Red-Bellied Woodpecker, thinking almost aloud, Thanks, Mom. Are you sure you didn’t mean to send a Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker instead?

And then these wieners began sizzling on the grill.

And somewhere in all of this head-banging and sizzling, it caused me to stop and wonder whether we can even handle the precious freedoms we have been given when we can’t all respect the freedoms of others. Some folks think that their freedoms include limiting the choices and freedoms that we all should have, and yet even hundreds of thousands of graves with American flags whipping in the breeze can’t even get our attention long enough to stop and consider the state of our nation.

So the woodpecker will forever chip away, and the wieners will continue sizzling, as Mom still prompts thinking from the other side, where all things in her world are now perfect.