June is when school lets out, when the Seniors graduate, and when the osprey chicks fledge. The beginning of summer, a new season. Fledging and graduating are not that different. So here are a  story, poem and song for the recent graduates, heading off on their new adventures. The ospreys are not interested in poetry. They just inspire us through their wonderful approach to life's events and their regal beauty. Here's to happy adventures for both the human graduates and the fledging ospreys. May all enjoy a fruitful, restful summer  before they  embark upon a successful  new life's journey. 

The young osprey loved his nest. When the wind was cold, he could nestle up against his siblings, his father brought fish every day for his mother to feed them all, and his father and mother kept all intruders away. He was warm, well-fed, loved and safe. What more could a little bird want?
The little birds grew. They learned to feed themselves from the fish their father brought. They developed wings and began to flap them. Soon the nest was very crowded.  The chick developed feathers. This made him itch but he loved flapping his wings and pretending to fly. One day his wings lifted him off from the nest and he hovered for a few seconds. He was excited. Soon he would be able to fly. Then he could go wherever he wanted. He would not be stuck on this nest. 
But wait, he asked himself. Didn’t he love this nest? Wasn’t this where he wanted to live? Well, yes, and no. He decided he would learn to fly and would leave to visit other places and make friends. But then he would always return by nighttime for his father and mother to take care of him. 
But that’s not the osprey way. One day, the osprey chick was fully feathered. He was fledged and ready to leave the nest. He perched on the very edge of the nest and flapped his wings. His body lifted up into the air. This time, he used his wings to steer and flew a few feet away where he landed on the crane upon which the nest was perched. The fledgling was so proud. He was a real osprey now, ready to go out into the world.
Every day, the fledgling practiced flying short distances. His two siblings watched from the nest. They were younger and were just learning to hover. Then one day, the fledgling heard an osprey call from the North shore. He flew in that direction. There he saw other ospreys his age flying in the sky. What fun! All day, he flew with them. When he got hungry, he tried diving for a fish. But he was not successful. So he bade his new friends good-by and flew back home where he found a fish waiting for him. 
The fledgling continued to meet his friends every day. Some days, he flew with his father and learned from him how to catch a fish. Then came the great day when he caught his own fish! Now he stayed away from the nest for a day or two. It was fun flying with his friends and being on his  own. But there were days when his friends weren’t around and he was lonesome. Other days were cold and windy or he couldn’t find a fish and he was hungry. Then he flew back to the nest. Sometimes his parents were there; sometimes they weren’t. The other two chicks had left the nest too, so there was no reason for the parents to always be on the nest. Sometimes the osprey was so lonely, he would call and call in a loud, demanding voice. Eventually, his mother or father would come with a fish.
One day, the fledgling felt something new. A restlessness, a desire to fly, not just in the sky over his own Bay, but somewhere else. He wanted to travel, to explore, to see the world. So he spent one last night on the nest and the next day, he lifted off and headed out over the Bay. But first he circled around the land over his nest. He met his mother and she flew with him for a bit. Then he turned and headed Southwest, while she returned to the nest. He flew and flew. He didn’t really know where he was going but he knew the general direction to head. His body and brain would direct him. He flew around, first South then East then South again, stopping at night near water so he could catch a fish. Finally one day, he knew which way to go and he headed straight down the coast to his Winter home. He knew he would spend the next year and a half down there learning to be an osprey. Then he would fly back to the nest But his parents would not welcome him. He would find  a mate, build a nest with her, and create a new home. For that is the osprey way.
Best wishes for you on your own journey South, learning to be a responsible, productive adult and eventually finding your own home. We look forward to hearing about your flight into manhood. And will watch for you as we watch for the ospreys. If ever in doubt, take a look at  the ospreys to observe their ability to deal with whatever comes their way with aplomb and equanimity. 

​MW
 

Walk into garden
Find raspberry blossoms chomped.
How did deer get in?

What is a Tree?

What is a tree?
To some, a mere commodity
To be bought for one’s own use
To increase the value
Of the property.
 
To others an inspiration
To sit beneath and compose
Lyrics to a song, a melody,
Paean of praise
Or an essay in prose.
 
And to others still, 
A fellow living being
To let live and grow
To leaf out, flower, 
 Spread its seed, as it willl.
​
​-MW

Trees: A Photo Essay
all photos by Mary unless otherwise specified

A tree is a living thing, just as you and I. It is born, grows, lives and dies. And struggles to survive, through any obstacles in its path. And sometimes humans let the trees grow wild, untouched, to fulfill their destiny. 

 The Earth is large and there is room for all of us. Even in the city, there are parks where trees can grow more or less untouched by humans, providing shelter for the wildlife. 

.And to many others, a tree is a nuisance. A view blocker. A leaf dropper. A wrecker of concrete. These people are often adamant. They are convinced they are right. They see the tree as an object alone, one that  can easily be removed, just as one might move a lawn chair. For these people, even fences are more respected. They serve a purpose. These people don't see the purpose of the tree, don't see the shade it provides, the protection from the wind and storms, the provider of habitat and food for wildlife. They see only an obstacle in their way. "Cut it down" they demand. And too often, they get their own way. 

Fortunately, there are others who seek to live in and with Nature and build accordingly. They stand their ground, refusing to cut down their redwoods or deface them. And then those us us who walk those streets are rewarded with morning birdsong, cool shade, and a sense of peace. 

  A long time ago, people came to this continent. There were other animals already here, as well as flowering plants and trees. Then came the people wandering from afar. Or so it is said by  the scientists.  Others believe otherwise. Whatever the facts, these people wandered in and settled in small groups, The people ate what they found, both plant and animal, and they built lodging out of the plants they found. In this, they lived much as all animals, using what they needed to survive. And they lived this way for many years. They were different in one way from the others: they used fire. For warmth, for cooking, for managing their oak groves and grasslands. But this did not change the environment to any great degree.
Then one day, rather suddenly, a barrage of other people from other lands drove in on horses, and covered wagons and sailed in on ships from far away. These people brought animals with them, heavy animals that needed large grazing lands. The new people planted grains for these animals. The landscape was changed and the Native population of humans was decimated rather quickly through disease, loss of their land, and outright violence against them. 
A city rapidly grew up, at first chaotic, regularly ravaged by fires. But these humans were resourceful and ambitious. They quickly rebuilt their city, each time making improvements. Permanent buildings were built, sewers and water lines put in, and finally streets were paved. The wildlife moved out of the city into the nearby countryside. 
And so the area was on a quick rollercoaster ride of change. Over the years, the humans spread out into the countryside and new cities and suburbs sprang up. The once abundant wildlife grew scarcer. The air and water grew foul. But again, these humans were resourceful and knowledgeable. They learned. And took action. 
What did they learn? Through research and observation, they learned to scrub the water and air clean with fancy machines. But they still used gasoline and natural gas and oil. They learned to use windmills and sun for energy. But to do this, they needed land, which they took from the animals. They designed more energy-efficient automobiles and trucks, but they traveled more miles than before. They designated some land as protected so the plants and animals could thrive. But soon, people crowded in here too, talking loudly, leaving trash and demanding that dangerous trees be removed. 
Imagine two people standing on Twin Peaks, looking down at the city and across the Bay. What do they see? Below, a landscape of tall, gray or white concrete structures, the area void of trees. Automobiles, the sun glinting off their windshields. Bridges of steel spanning the water. Large ships traversing the Bay. On the other side, the shoreline is lined in concrete, paved roads and rail tracks at its edge. A few marshes remain. Where once there were thousands of pelicans, one flock flies by. On the hills, where  there were once large stands of tall redwoods, sit houses and a few leftover redwoods And a gash in the hill, a quarry now abandoned but its damage still evident. 
What do they hear?  One lone mockingbird on the hill where they stand. Car engines, sirens, a dull roar of traffic. 
One turns to the other. “This is progress. Look at how far we’ve come."
The other turns slowly and looks her companion in the eyes. “What is progress?” she asks. “What has been gained? Are the trees healthier? Are the animals better off? And we? Do we live better? In the past, if a dwelling burnt down, the inhabitants rebuilt their tule hut in one day. Earthquakes were of little concern, for there were no large buildings to fall. The people lived in peace and had plenty of food and water. They knew only their little world and did not worry about strife elsewhere.  Are we better off than they?”
Her companion was silent. For what could he say? 
                               
​                                          Progress. A word known only to humans. 

All writing by MW this month. Piccola and JM are recovering from dental surgery.
​ To be continued....

Many have written of the Ages of Man, from Shakespeare's soliloquy in As You Like It  to the psychologist Erik Erikson's 7 steps of human development. I have decided to render these into a river of life. As a river is born from a spring or glacier, just a trickle, that grows wider and deeper with time and faces periods of calm and turbulence, life  flows into a calmer, slower existence as it approaches the final All, the unknown, large deep expanse that water calls the Ocean and we call  Death. Take a ride down the river and enjoy the stops along the way.  The Ocean awaits some day.but not before you have partaken of the pleasures afforded by each stage of the journey along the River of Life.
Most of the images are of the Rhein River, taken from Flik via Weebly. (The photos are without names or titles, so I can't vouch for their accuracy or cite the source.Non are to to be reposted or altered.)