Lessons From Wyoming

Or, Four Things I Learned Today

 

1. How to nest search.

In a nutshell: walk through the wild, look for bird nests. Record on nest card. Simple. (More on this later).

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Female yellow warbler on nest, Magee Marsh, Ohio (an excellent place for warblers in the spring). 

 

2. That I will always want to spend more money than I currently (or will ever) have on books, and that going into a bookstore “just to look” is never a good idea.

I don’t go into bookstores for the same reason I don’t buy Oreos, bags of Pirate’s Booty, containers of ice cream, or jars of Nutella: because I’ll eat it all at once and get sick (or because I’ll spend lots of money and expand my mind and entertain myself quietly and learn something interesting. Which isn’t exactly like eating an entire jar of Nutella in one sitting, but the two activities do tend to be tied together. Reading books, I find, is typically closely tied to consuming Nutella on Maria cookies– try it– and drinking copious amounts of tea, and then holding it as long as possible because I don’t want to stop reading long enough to pee. Perhaps the only good thing about driving across Texas twice with someone who doesn’t like stop was that it trained me to hold it for extended periods of time).

Okay, this one I knew before, but I was wandering around downtown Jackson this evening and found a really neat bookstore, Valley Bookstore, and ended up wandering in and making a short-list of about 30 different books I wanted to come back and buy once I get paid.

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3. I also found out that many people are into birds, including Mike, who helped me select a good trail/topo map of the area at Teton Mountaineeringwho also told me I need to go to Bird Club meetings, first Sunday of the month at the Visitor Center parking lot, and the man working at the Thomas Mangelsen gallery, who told me about how the crows that nest in his backyard occasionally leave food bits in his bird bath, including cookies, dead bird nestlings, and the head of a lovebird (probably someone’s pet who got loose and got eaten). His neighbor puts out bread, which attracts the crows to their yards. Last summer he had a cedar waxwing nest in the bush just outside his door, but he didn’t take any pictures because he didn’t want to tip off the crows as to the location of the nest. We chatted a while, if you couldn’t tell.

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And when not eating other birds, crows also will eat gummy bears.

 

4. That I should get a mountain bike.

And that I actually kinda want to use it on a mountain. Biking on inclines isn’t exactly my thing (I grew up biking on the Ohio and Erie Canal Towpath, where elevation gain is described as “minimal.” I love mountains, but they are primarily for climbing up using either two or four limbs, not two wheels. However, the hills are calling, and I think my leg muscles might be able to answer. Or at least they’re seriously considering it.

I also learned that there is a trail called Putt-Putt that’s easy but “you’ll be feeling it after,” according to the guy at Sports Authority who told me where to go to buy a bike (not Sports Authority, though the bike he recommended will be going on sale soon but I didn’t hear it from him).

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Yeah, this one’s not my picture either. It’s from the Bridger-Teton National Forest website

From Trails.com:

“Imagine combining a roller-coaster ride and a bobsled run—the result would be the Putt-Putt loop.”

Um yeah, maybe I’ll stick to the paved multi-purpose trail for a little while…

Bird Banding with the Teton Science Schools

So here I am in the Tetons, about to start a three month stint working for the Conservation Research Center of the Teton Science Schools (TSS). I am working with the bird banding crew, and our job is to catch birds at five different sites; three around the town of Jackson, Wyoming, and two in the Grand Teton National Park.

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Our sites are in both developed and undeveloped areas (the ones in downtown Jackson are interesting, as we sometimes get homeless people hanging out in our net lanes). One goal of the project is to see how songbirds respond to different levels of development, by comparing our data from site in the park (which are undeveloped) and those in downtown Jackson (located in the middle of housing developments and surrounded by busy roads). There have been 21 years of banding going on through the TSS, and it’s exciting to be contributing to such long-term research.

I’m still learning about our particular project, but if you follow the link above it will take you to the CRC website, which has a nice little description of our research. I will also be sharing more as the season goes on, so stay tuned!

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One of our volunteers, Anya, with the male sharp-shinned hawk.

We’re still in training at the moment, but official banding starts on Friday. I’m excited. Our first day is at one of our sites in the park, and Jenny, our boss, has said they typically see the most wildlife at that site, including moose, bison, bear (black and grizzly), and white-tailed deer. But don’t worry Mom, we were all issued bear spray yesterday and trained in its use. I’m hoping never to get close enough to spray down a grizzly, but it’s good to know the spray cannister works.

During our most recent practice banding session, we caught a couple of exciting birds (all birds are exciting, but these were especially so. They also might have been the only ones I remembered to take pictures of…):

First was this male Sharp-shinned Hawk

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And this older male Lazuli Bunting, who was absolutely gorgeous:

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(links in green will take you to more information about these species)

Can’t wait to see what else we catch in our nets this summer!

Don’t Say Don’t Go

Peace Boulder, I’m heading to Wyoming for the summer!

For those who don’t know, I’ll be spending the next few months working with the Teton Science Schools, mucking around in the forest playing with birds (more details on that later). Literally mucking, or so I hear from my boss, who told us to bring rubber boots. Good thing I brought mine from home. In the part of Ohio where I’m from, not having a pair of mud boots is unheard of. Mud season lasts a good long while, and if you want to go out in the woods (which I do quite frequently) you need a pair of boots. As a result, rubber boots, like a coat (because the weather will be changing in about 5 minutes), are one of the many things I can’t leave home without. The list also includes a journal and pen, binoculars, bird book, camera, and climbing gear. You never know when the muse will overtake you, a cool bird that needs iding and photographing will be spotted, or when you’ll find a rock that needs climbing.

The car is packed, I’ve got western bird calls on my iPod, a giant jug of Bhakti Chai and a baggie of pickles. Let’s hit the open road! Wyoming, here I come!

road in Colorado

 

 

I shall leave you with this song: I Can Breathe Again, by Baywood (which is also on the iPod, along with the bird calls).

 

Baywood – “I Can Breathe Again” from Consequence of Sound on Vimeo.

Lyrics (for those of you who don’t listen to the words, which I’m suprised to find is a large number of my acquaintances. I guess I’m just a wordy person, I listen to the lyrics):

VERSE 1:

One of these slow weeks when, you don’t know where the time will go
I could just give in and send my self back to this world
Don’t say don’t go
Don’t say don’t you go

CHORUS:

I lost myself to the snow and then
I found my way back home again
But I can only stay for awhile
Hey hey hey hey!

Now that I’m on my own I can
Finally I can breathe again
So I can only stay for awhile
Hey hey!

VERSE 2:

Step after step I jump in and step off the beaten path
As the long journey begins I walk the wild at last
Don’t say don’t go
Don’t say don’t you go

CHORUS:

I lost myself to the snow and then
I found my way back home again
But I can only stay for awhile
Hey hey hey hey!
Now that I’m on my own I can
Finally I can breathe again
So I can only stay for awhile
Hey hey!

In addition to having some fantastic facial hair, Baywood also have an amusing bio, which can be perused on the Kick Kick Snare webpage here:

Baywood Bio on Kick Kick Snare

Lost in the pines

Written in Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, July 2012

Wyoming rainbow

The lodgepole pines grow incredibly dense, packed in just inches away from each other.

They make a solid, living wall of green and needles. I wonder what it would be like to slip between the trunks and lose yourself. You wouldn’t have to go very far to be lost from sight.

How far would you have to go to find yourself again?

Arches

storm sky in arches

We are driving through Arches National Park, and it’s raining. There are big flashes of lightning here and there, but I can’t hear if there is any thunder. The car windows are rolled up against the rain. The gray clouds and sky make a different backdrop, one I like better than the normal clear blue skies. There is more emotion, more drama. This is what this place stirs in me, varied emotion, varied feelings, the gray mottled churning of the sky.

This place is not as simple as a cloudless bright blue sky.

Neither am I.

clouds in arches

 

 

Happy Mother’s Day Mom!

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This one is for you, my Mother Dearest,

A mother of three, whom we all both love and fearest!

Today’s a day of thanks for my lovely Mom,

Like every mother, she’s def da bomb!

She cooks, she cleans, she sweeps, she sews,

And whenever I am bad, she somehow always knows!

She’s a band director, the finest teacher of music,

Somehow listening to 5th grade clarinets doesn’t make her lose it!

She teaches kids who aren’t her own

How to play the tuba, flute, or saxophone.

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Bravely leading her students around the subway system of New York City, and somehow ending up in Brooklyn.

I don’t know how she does it, her patience is legendary

Except for when it comes to bad tuning, then she gets scary.

She marches, she copies, she fixes, she files,

And she does it all with (mostly) real smiles.

I’ve always admired your passion and drive,

To be like you is for what I strive.

You’re the bestest Mom I’ve ever had,

Without you my life would sure be sad.

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You meeting Dad sure was fateful,

You gave me life, for which I’m grateful.

I love you mom, I hope you know that,

I may journey far, but home is where the heart’s at.

I love you deep, I’ll love you long,

I love you sure, I love you strong.

So Happy Mother’s Day Mommy Dearest,

To my heart you will always be nearest.

With lots of love from your most favorite eldest daughter, who didn’t know that there was a MCB Clarinet website, and that both our pictures are on it. Interesting things can be found when one searches for your name on Google. 

And Happy Mother’s Day also to my mother’s mother, my grandma Elvera, whom I love dearly and who prints out all my blog posts and puts them in a three-ring binder. Everything I write, I write for you.  

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Love you much!

Happy Birthday Dad!

For my Dad, one of the many Mike Smiths that exist in the world, but definitely the most important (at least in my life). You’ve taught me just about everything important in life, like how to eat pizza, play euchre and softball, how to stack firewood and how to go on long walks in the woods. You’ve taught me how to “walk it off,” to be a team player, how to be committed and a hard worker, how to laugh at corny jokes. You taught me to take advantage of opportunities, and how to be a good person. You taught me to appreciate the “classical” music of Tom Petty, Bob Seger, Eric Clapton, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, and the rest. 

Four years ago I graduated college on your birthday, something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to top as a birthday present. You paid for four years of education at a private, liberal-arts college, and I wrote you this poem. I don’t know if I’ll ever really be able to tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and how much I love you. 

Thanks Dad, for everything. 

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And thanks for letting me wear your woolen winter hat all the time. Glad that phase didn’t last too long.

In honor of your birthday Dad I wrote for you this po-em

For though I may be far away, today I wish I was ho-me.

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Learning from the best.

The world is great, but can’t compare

To you, my Father Extraordinaire.

You taught me how to drive a car,

Which let me leave and go quite far.

That same skill though is what brings me back

‘Cause throughout the world, my family is what I lack.

Awkward Family Photos

This is how the Smith family celebrates Easter.

It’s from you I think that I’m low key,

One of the things I like the most ’bout me.

From you I got my temperament,

Way of looking at the world unbent.

 

Watching TV with Dad

Like father, like daughter.

Because of you Dad, for my best I strive,

And without you Dad, I’d not be alive.

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Dads make the best jungle gyms.

You’re my mountain, my sturdy base,

As necessary as the nose upon my face.

Your beard might now be a little more gray,

But to me you’re always going to be more than just okay!

 

Lauren and Dad at Andy's wedding

If you can’t tell Dad, I think you’re the best

A man above all others, better than the rest!

 

Yellowstone National Par

Good to see that our family portraits have gotten substantially less awkward.

I love you Dad!

Happy Birthday!

The eyes of this place

Canyonlands National Park

 

“To stare directly into the eyes of a place like this, to not look away, is nearly unbearable.”

Craig Childs, from the book  Soul of Nowhere

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Max and I spent quite some time here, photographing and getting to know this place, in Canyonlands National Park, Utah. We also sheltered from a few rather large thunderstorms here, and watched some fantastic lightning shows from the comfort and safety of this cave in the canyon wall.

Check out his much better photographs on his website: Max Seigal Photography

Horseshoe Bend, Arizona

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Max getting ready for sunset by gazing into the sky, in the wrong direction. The sun sets over the bend in the river, straight across from where we stood on the rim.

 

We spent about a day in Page, Arizona, saluting the day both at its end and beginning from the rim of Horseshoe Bend, a “horseshoe-shaped meander of the Colorado River.” We made the mile-long trek to the edge of the canyon rim, overlooking the water below by about 1,000 feet. There are no railings, so you are left with only your own common sense to protect you from going over the edge.

Horseshoe Bend, AZ

Pretending to be a photographer, and being very careful not to stumble and knock the tripod over the canyon rim.

 

 

It’s windy here on the rim of Horseshoe Canyon, and the wind blows sand in our faces, camera lenses, and down one thousand feet to the river below. I can see the wind ruffling the surface of the water. It’s not really cold, just when you’re sitting still the wind gets to you, blowing your warmth away across the desert. The sunset tonight was all a photographer could ask for, streaks of pink clouds, blues and purples, orange. I hear violet-green swallows flying below me along the canyon walls, and lower still I see a soaring raven, which from my perspective looks the size of an ant, an ant with a paraglider.

 

 

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Some of the people who joined us to watch the sunset. After I took this picture, more people arrived, until there were at least 100 total loitering on the canyon rim.

 

 

 

 

 

I’m sitting on the edge, much closer than Mom would be comfortable with, my left foot braced parallel a few inches from the edge, the rest of me a couple feet back, no danger of losing my balance. The wind isn’t that strong. As the sun goes down, the people leave with the light. I try to eavesdrop, but most of them speak different languages and I don’t know what they say. They don’t seem to be speaking of the view though, because those who really look don’t say anything.

 

 

Horseshoe Bend, AZ

The canyon walls glowed a beautiful orangish/red in the vanishing sunlight, a living color that to me is the essence of this place.

Owachomo Natural Bridge, Utah

Natural Bridges National Monument

I am sitting in Natural Bridges National Monument, at Owachomo Natural Bridge, the last of three natural bridges in the Monument. It is after dark, and I’m waiting for the stars and my friend Max, who is photographing the night sky. In the distance, from their pools in the narrow rock canyon, I hear frogs that sound like sheep and chickens. Bats fly about in quick loops, swerving through the dusk.

 

Natural Bridges National Monument

The stars above and around Owachomo were visible first. The view through the bridge was cloudy for quite some time, the clouds trapped by the rock ceiling. The wind plays with my hair, and gradually dances my body heat away across the desert, through the bridge, out to the stars. I brought a cushion to sit on, and my sleeping bag to wrap around my shoulders. I have a book to read while I wait for Max to finish his pictures, painting the arch with light so it shows up in his shot.

 

Every few minutes I turn my headlamp off, let my eyes adjust to the dark, and look all around to the expansive sky of stars. I’d sit here and just watch the night, but I know it doesn’t take very long for me to fall asleep, lulled by the dark, the wind, the reassuring stars all around. I don’t want to fall asleep, not yet, so I read to keep myself awake, engaged, present, and yet not, with my surroundings.

 

This is the perfect place to read this book, The Soul of Nowhere, by Craig Childs. It is about these places, and blends with them. It gives me another way to connect with this space around me, through the words of someone else who has absorbed this place and knows how to articulate what it means.

 

 

Natural Bridges National Monument

… I am hoping to become the same, a person who is changed by the land, who puts a pen to paper and tells what I have seen of this land.”

– Craig Childs, from The Soul of Nowhere