Project “Leaving Linus” update

My fledgling project to avoid mindlessly hanging out with Linus (the name I gave my computer, in case you missed that episode) when I’m not doing something actually meaningful has had some nice results. One is this photo … more on that in a minute. For now, on to the status update on Project "Leaving Linus."

Great blue herons

The first change is that avoiding this mindless thing has made me aware of how much time I typically spend at the computer when I have no particular goal. I also realize that deciding to hang out less with Linus has left me more open to things that happen to pass my way, things I might normally dismiss (“Maybe, if I have time” or “Nah, that’s not convenient” or “I’ll probably be too tired” or simply “I’m too lazy”). It turns out that some of those things truly interest me, if I can just get past my lethargy and sloth and actually consider them as genuine possibilities.

For instance, here are some things I did in the past week or so that I likely would have dismissed in favor of aimless time at home (which usually translates to time in front of the screen):

• At the tamest end of my adventurous continuum, on a couple of occasions, I simply packed up my reading and headed for a local coffee shop—for no reason other than to get out of the house, away from the computer, and into some of the reading I claim to want to do. Not exactly wild, but definitely atypical for me. So it is an adventure in the scheme of things. BTW, Stephen King’s new book about JFK’s assassination is pretty gripping!

• In a slightly more adventurous vein, I decided to go to a performance of the Interactive Theater Project at CU. The performance was about the distinction between old-fashioned and modern racism and about being an ally to other folks who are facing (often subtle) prejudice. Both of these topics interest me a lot. But this was an evening performance, and I had no one to go with. So usually, I would have stayed home instead… it’s easier, more familiar, less hassle strategically, less of a stretch psychologically. But I went anyway. What else was I going to do—hang with Linus? As is almost always true with ITP, I enjoyed the performance and the discussion afterward. Cool.

• Feeling my oats, I went to a movie at the Boedecker, the small theater at The Dairy, my first time there. The movie, “Tomboy,” was, as the title suggests, about a girl who violates traditional gender norms—a French film, with the slow-moving quality common to many French movies. It was an interesting portrayal of a complicated topic, with great acting by a couple of kids. This, too, I usually would not have bothered with, for no good reason. But I was really glad I went, although the audience’s understanding of the film was a bit “off,” IMHO. Still, I learned some stuff about how folks on the streets of Boulder think (or at least talk) about these things. Wow. Twice in one week!

• Then, as if Linus hadn’t already been abandoned enough, on Friday evening, I went to a talk and slide show at REI, “Wildlife in Winter.” It was informative and fun, with lots of great photos. The whole experience took me back to the days when I knew a lot about wildlife. Interestingly, I felt no urge to take notes. This is a new phenomenon that has just cropped up in the last couple of years. This was the third evening outing when I usually would have hunkered down at home. I could get used to this.

• To round out the week, I spent most of Saturday cruising around north Boulder County with a handful of volunteer naturalists and a gaggle of folks eager to learn about—and to spot—raptors. Most folks had sophisticated equipment: high-power binoculars, fancy cameras with long lenses, high-tech spotting scopes. I had my camera phone. Oh, yeah—and my trusty binoculars from trips to Alaska many years ago (like, 15?). My tools worked totally fine for my purposes. (Although I must admit to moments of envy when I would have loved to snap off a great photo.) I loved being outside all day, focusing on wildlife, and soaking up the fresh air, the sun, and (true to Boulder) the afternoon wind. 

Here’s my list of sightings for the day, from memory rather than recorded, so the accuracy is iffy:

o   First thing in the morning, before the official wildlife trip even began, I watched a cow licking her brand new calf, welcoming it to the world. I’m sure it was a new calf, because on my way back a short time later, a cute little wobble-legged calf was standing in front of mom at the same spot. The meadows are sprinkled with what we call “cow dots” now. It always seems too early to me. But I guess nature knows more about these things than I do. This means coyotes will be hanging around these meadows, too.

o    As the birding group gathered before we began our tour, a single bald eagle flew across the water right in front of us and scooped up a fish as if s/he had seen it all the way from the other side. Not a bad start to our outing!

o   Just as we started our drive, we saw a golden eagle perched in a tree right by the road, posing for photos. My camera phone was not up to this challenge (my first hint of the camera envy that would flicker through the day), but I have a picture in my mind’s eye. Then it took off, flying right above us, as cameras snapped all around me.

o   Along the way, we saw many red-tailed hawks, which are very common in these parts. I learned a lot about how varied these birds are—including the fact that even the red tail is optional. Who knew?

o   We spotted several American Kestrels, very small falcons that you can often see perched on a wire or a fence. This is one of my favorite birds—tiny, by raptor standards, with beautiful markings. I love it when they hover, which we didn’t see on this trip, but I also have a mental picture of that, from earlier encounters, and it serves very well.

o   As we were stopped to view a large heronry (a “rookery” for herons—lots of nests gathered in just a few trees), we also saw several great blue herons hanging out near a pond nearby. Again, I couldn’t capture the heronry with my mini-lens camera. But through a bit of desperate ingenuity, I managed to maneuver the lens of my phone over the eyepiece of someone’s spotting scope and captured the picture at the top of this blog. I’d love to say that I planned the artistic quality of this picture, but the truth is that I just didn’t get it lined up well. Oh, well. Artistry is always part serendipity, I hear.

o   And, to finish the day with a certain symmetry, we saw three coyotes—a single one early in the day and then a pair that we watched for quite a while, just as our trip wound down. They were “spotting,” too. They seemed especially interested in scenes similar to my early morning experience with the calf.

When I got home, somehow more tired than I should have been (too many wild adventures in one week, I reckon), Linus was there, apparently unperturbed by my absence. In fact, she seemed oblivious to the fact that she had been deserted so often.

Do you think this intense connection might be one-sided?