Every minute cherished

Enjoying the summer. All the beauty, the colors, the joy we all get from being outdoors on gorgeous sunny days are being absorbed and put away, to be remembered when the snow and zero degree weather makes its entrance.
This is the summer I proposed to my girlfriend.
The experience was nerve racking for me.  I had planned on doing it while on a hike.  I was not sure where, but the date had to be May 13th - and no, not because it was Mother's Day.  This Mother's Day just happened to fall on the date where three years ago Heather came down the escalator at the airport and her hand clicked into my own, fitting better than a puzzle piece.  We packed the dogs, I packed the ring in my cargo shorts and off we went to a new trail.  The whole time I wondered if the trail would be fine and hoped it wouldn't rain.  Just a few yards into the trail we began hearing thunder.  It didn't start to sprinkle until further down our walk, but that didn't stop us.  The rain was actually cooling on the warm day.  The whole time we walked along, I kept an eye out for the perfect spot.  We walked through swampy areas, on boardwalks, admiring the ferns and watching the dogs enjoy themselves taking in all the nature smells.  We had reached the end of the trail and it opened up to an area where the creek broke off into different tributaries.  The view was beautiful and silent, making us feel like we were the only ones on Earth.  I knew this should be the spot.  Heather started to turn around to head back onto the trail and I fumbled around a bench with the dog to stall when all of a sudden I heard loud croaking squawk.  We look up to see a Great Blue Heron fly over us.  Being that the Great Blue is my favorite bird, and one I recently had tattooed on my calf, we stood there in awe at its beauty.  I second later we hear more squawking and are shocked to see SIX more fly in a criss-cross-like pattern over our heads.  With our mouths hanging open at seeing this incredible site, I realize this is a sign.  If there was ever a time to do it, it definitely should be NOW!  As the last of the herons fly away, I tell Heather that I found something and I wanted her to look at it.  She was still in awe over seeing such a display of herons and confused that I was not in the same state of awe, when she took in the seriousness of my tone as I handed her the stone.  The rock was a stone I found, its shape that of a heart.  My nervous words to her spilled out, telling her since the first day her hand went into mine, how perfect it felt... and that I wanted to hold her hand forever.  As she turned the over, she saw that I had written "Will you Marry Me?" on the back, and I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me.  Thankfully she said yes!

The stone and the ring.  The ring is based on the Gimmel rings from long ago.

The Great Blue Heron.  Not one of the ones we saw that day, but one that happened to stand still long enough for me to snap a picture of it.

The heron's likeness tattooed on my leg by Nora at Jade Lotus.  For me they symbolize peace, strength and patience - all of which I have finally found.

The best decisions are always the hardest to make

There are times in our lives where we hit a crossroads.  Turn right and the outcome can be vastly different than if you had turned left.  Before making that choice, I try to look ahead at the possible outcomes of each decision.  I weigh the pros and cons to each consequence and choose from there, closing my eyes and hoping for the best.  On Saturday, March 31, 2012, I came upon that crossroad.

On my way to work that early Saturday morning, I came across a young doe lying down in the middle of the northbound lane.  The sun was barely up and even in the dim dawn light, I saw the dark crimson dripping from her nose.   I briefly thought, well, maybe she was just stunned and would get up and go once I drove by her.  As I approached in my truck, she barely moved, and it was then I realized that I had to stop and do something.   I pulled over in the shoulder and put my hazard lights on and, knowing my gas tank was almost on E, I turned off my car.  I got out and slowly approached her.  Her eyes were shut.  My presence was hardly noticed.  I even tried to nudge her a bit to see if she could get up.  I knew it was not good when a wild animal will not even appear to want to flee.  The poor thing was most likely in shock.  I made a few phone calls and was told the game warden would be out soon.

As the light of day began to shine down, I stayed with her, directing traffic around her and quietly letting her know it would be ok.  But would it?  In a previous post I made about the injured coyote, I cheered at the strength and the will to live that creature had.  He still had a chance.  This doe, on the other hand, did not appear to have that gleam of life in her, that will that would have allowed her to get up and disappear into the nearby woods.  As someone who has worked in the animal health field for so long, I knew what possible internal injuries she may have had that the naked eye could not see.

At one point I thought she was going to rally and get up to move off of the road.

When she did get up, it was only to relieve herself, which further enforced my fears.  There she stood while cars slowly passed us, most people stopping to pity a fellow living thing.  Most were grown men, who probably hunted, and who respected wildlife in their own way.  They felt the loss of this wood spirit as they drove on down the road, watching us as we got smaller in their rear view mirror.

One older gentleman stopped in the northbound lane and helped me direct traffic.  We chatted for a bit, and he spoke softly to the yearling, gently touching her as she stood there.  When the game warden came, I was relieved and saddened, as he stepped out of his truck with a type of shotgun, waving us back and looking to make sure there were no other approaching vehicles.
I watched as what I knew what would happen did.  At the sound of the first shot, she went down, what life there was in her eyes disappeared.  I turned away, tears streaming down my face.  Bruce, the older gentleman, grabbed a hold of me and let me cry it all out as I heard two more shots meant to make sure she was out of pain. 
After they got her in the game warden's truck, I asked if there was anything else he needed.  He apologized, saying he thought I knew what would happen.  I told him I knew, but seeing it is different from just knowing.  Bruce asked if I would be ok.  I reassured him I would be and I made my way back to my truck and cried my way to work.
I knew this choice was one I had to make.  I couldn't leave her laying there, only to get run over again, or get up and end up drowning in the nearby swamp.  Limiting her suffering was the least I could do.  I wondered numerous times if I had my gun, would I have it in me to end her suffering?  I think that question is still unanswered.
Now every time I head home from work, I drive over the spot where it all happened.   One afternoon, the rains washed the blood from the road.  The next day's light brought the sun's rays onto the land, revealing the rusty stain, like an echo, bouncing off the walls of memory.

Are missed opportunities really all that bad?

Here I am, enjoying a surprisingly mild Vermont winter, observing the first signs of spring. The birds come to our feeders and it is always a pleasure to see the birds come back, some showing off their colorful plumage.  I would love to eventually have a picture of every breed of bird I see that visit us throughout the year, so patiently, I sometimes wait by a window to snap the perfect picture.

There are times when I do get a decent pic of a curious and shy Blue Jay looking for his meal of peanuts.

Other times the Blue Jay is a bit too shy and all I get are bird feet.

 Then there is the flashy red male Cardinal perched on the bird feeder... only to catch a glimpse of him in flight.  His feet, like the wheels of a plane, prepare to retract into the feathery undercarriage of his body.

And here again, with his feet and tail end in the most interesting position, another missed opportunity.

Change of species here to capture a pretty cool moment.  "Squirrel with Goddess Figure" is what I will call this one.

Even though most of my bird shots that one day were of bird feet, I did find it to be quite a unique view as they begin their ascent into the heavens.  It was never my initial intention to capture these beings in motion like this, but I saw their potential, their connection to something we all deal with at some time or another.  The feet photos can be seen as a loss, a missed opportunity, a frustration at not getting something just right.  What I see from this is opportunity.  A potential.  Observing something from a different angle and maybe getting something more out of it.   Many times in our lives we tend to focus on the negative, that missed moment, the what ifs.  It drains us, like a leech, sucking any chance to take care of ourselves and to live life to our utmost potential.
Missed opportunities are just that - missed.  They are in the past.  Time to look ahead.  So as Mother Nature continues to tease us with her mood swings, I look forward to catching more critters - and their feet- on camera as the years go by.

The scales of life

I am a veterinary technician.  It is what I went to school for, and even though in the last 17 years I had other side careers in between, teching is what I always did.  Working in this field all of these years, I have seen many things - from helping to bring puppies into this world, to helping old friends pass on to the next.  The latter never gets easier and there are always some that I secretly have a spot for in my heart.  I do believe in humane euthanasia.  When an animal is sick beyond any reasonable help, when quality of life is close to zero, when you see the pain in their eyes or when the light they used to house there dims, you know it is time.
A recent encounter made me look a little deeper into all of this.  While driving home from an outing in Burlington, we spotted what looked like what I thought was a dog running towards us along the opposite edge of road.  As the distance between us and the critter closed a bit, we realized it was a coyote, and a pretty decently sized one.  We also noticed it had a noticeable left front leg limp.  My first response, after being awestruck by such a magnificent looking animal, was to take out my phone and take it's picture.

My second response was how could we help it?  Logically, we could not just take a leash and lure it into our car and get it some medical attention... although the thought did briefly enter our minds.  I did not know of any wildlife rescues who would come way out where we live for a coyote.  Plus, the fact that the coyote was running on three legs, would make it impossible for anyone to catch up with it.  Being it was the weekend,  I called Vermont Wildlife and left a message, and asked for other ideas on Facebook.  Some suggested doing what we had done, but not much else.  We just hoped the creature did not get hit by a car, or suffer much.  Thoughts of hunters shooting it and putting out of it's misery made me shudder, because aside from it's bum leg, it looked like a healthy and strong animal.  I am not sure how a pack animal can survive on its own, but shouldn't it be left up to coyote?  If nothing else could be done to help it, shouldn't we see if nature will wrap her arms around him and either help him find his way in the world, or return him to the earth?  
As a technician, I wish we could have helped... as a human, I wished we could have helped... but I feel that death is not the answer we need to give to a being still so filled with life.
I have had the pleasure of having creatures come into my life who were so close to death.  My first was Misty, a 6 month old chihuahua with horrendous demodex mange.  Her owners could not afford the money or time to treat, so were going to put her to sleep.  An intervention occurred and we acquired her, and I fell in puppy love with her.  After many baths and months of medication, she was all healed.

Misty as a young pup.

Then there was the stray kitten brought into the ER by a good samaritan late one evening.  The kitten's left leg was almost completely severed, but he still purred and cuddled as if nothing was wrong.  Being he had no owner, and a severe injury, he was going to be euthanized... until my co-workers and I convinced ourselves otherwise and went into giving this little 5-6 week old kitten a chance - even though it was against work policy to do so.  After finishing off the amputation and closing him up, only antibiotics and time would tell if he would make it.  After a small infection scare and longer antibiotics, his wounds healed and he made his way into my heart.   Five years later, he is a tough, fast, mouse catching, dog ambushing, three-legged cat.

Nibo at home post-op.

Nibo and I,  a couple of years after the amputation.

And more recently, we found a couple of pups at a rescue.  One of which was missing her right eye.  We are not sure how she lost it, or why she was at a kill shelter in North Carolina, but we are happy she is home with us. 

Ahnah at obedience graduation.

The creatures that are alive and in this world deserve a chance.  If their will, bodies and souls are strong enough, why not give them that opportunity?  The human race should never dismiss them as being just a "mangy dog", a "worthless cat", or a "bothersome coyote".  We should walk their steps, see through their eyes, feel their pain... then we can really call ourselves human(e).

"The measure of a society can be how well its people treat its animals." ~Mohandas Gandhi

The intricate and delicate thing that is life

Saturday was a bone chilling day. Windy with temperatures in the single digits, which meant it actually felt colder than it read.  Whatever heat the lake was holding onto, evaporated into the crisp air.  As I sat there gaming my brains out on Batman: Arkham City, I heard a thud come from the vicinity of the picture window.  With it being a sunny and crisp day, the chances of birds hitting the window are higher than normal, so I ran to the window to make sure there weren't any casualties.  Scanning the snow covered ground, I spot a little sparrow on it's back, shaking it's head free from the snow.  I quickly grab the first boots I see, which are my girlfriend's hefty Sorel snow boots, and I stumble out in my sweat pants and t-shirt to perform a search and rescue.  I pick up the stunned bird in my hands, shielding it from the wind, and check to see if it is still alive.  Eyes, slowly blinking and gaining focus, start to look around, but the sparrow is still on it's side, immobilized by it's accident. I pet it's feathers and brush off the snow from it's beak while it's eyes continue to focus. Standing out there, wind at my back, I realize how cold it really is out here and I start to blow warm air on the bird.  Fingers tingling from the cold, I brush the last few noticeable snowflakes from it's wings before blowing more warm air on it's body.  Sitting the bird up in my palms, I notice it try to grasp hold of my finger with it's left foot.  The right foot still is not getting the messages from it's brain yet to do the same.  I start to walk towards the sliding glass door, and am quickly reminded of our 3 cats and 2 dogs, who would love to have a little poultry snack, and instead walked towards the lilac bush.  The warm air I supplied, appeared to awaken my little feathered friend, causing it's eyes to regain focus and awareness of it's surroundings.  It's right leg received the delayed messages and began to grasp my fingers.  Once it was able to hold on with a good grip, I gently encouraged it into the lilac bush, and I watched it until it fluttered to the higher branches, but not before I ran in to get my camera and take a picture of it before it was gone for good.

Standing out there in the arctic-like elements, I am at awe at how these little feathered beings survive with what their bodies provide them. They must eat and keep moving to survive this type of cold, but how well would someone of my species handle the cold with just what our bodies supply us with?  Just the short amount of time I was outside, my fingers were starting to hurt from the cold and my face and ears felt like they were going to slide off my skull.  The heartiness and the natural survival abilities of the non-human animal kingdom amaze me.  There is so much we don't know about them, what they feel, what they think, because deep in the recesses of our minds, we all know they do - and maybe we can all learn from them.

Resurrected

I used to have a little online journal thing going on Livejournal. Time passed and I no longer had the time to continue that medium, plus I started to lose interest and become discouraged when it became a festering pool for spammers to post weird things. A couple of years later, as my girlfriend is beginning to, and enjoy, blogging, I find myself wanting a place to put down my thoughts, aside for my own personal therapy in my written journal.
A little note about myself... I grew up in Brooklyn, NY. Enjoyed city life and the urban jungle, but I have always longed for the beauty and wilderness that only mother nature can provide.  As I age, I tend to appreciate and become more aware of my natural surroundings - and am continuously in awe of every detail life decides to present to me.  Having finally moved to a state I had only dreamed of moving to since I visited back in the late 80's, early 90's while on a school trip, I look forward to exploring Vermont and all she has to offer.
As 2012 starts gearing up to be another great year, I look forward to putting my thoughts down, sharing some of my life's experiences and taking photos along the way.