The Duck Pond

Come with me, my friend, I have somewhere I want to show you. It’s a place where I love to sit and think, to lie on the ground in the warm sun, to study, to play, to observe nature, and to talk with God. It’s a place where it’s hard to be angry, and where there are plenty of animals to keep me company.

Do you see all the bright yellow dandelions dotting our path? I guess they forgot it is fall. Look at the flaming blue sky, with those lovely wisps of clouds. Feel the soft crunch of crisp, brown, maple leaves under our feet, and the loud snap of the stubborn oak leaves being trodden on. Here, let's pick these old dandelions and blow their seeds to the wind, it’s so much fun! And look at that Red-Headed Woodpecker in the Oak tree. I don’t think he likes us, he certainly doesn’t sound very happy! And oh, how I love cold breezes blowing on my face. They smell so fresh. See that Junco flitting across our path? It is so cute!

Now, we are almost there. See that pond? That is our destination. Ah, it looks like the ducks have left the water for a few minutes to feast on tiny acorns. They won't forsake the water for more than five minutes, though. Oh, no. They are too devout swimmers for that. Even now they are filing back into the water. Look! About one-third of the pond is iced over. Oh, this is hilarious! Two of the ducks are going ice-skating!  Not intentionally, of course. And they don’t seem to be enjoying themselves too much, either. Poor things!

Finally, all the ducks are reunited in the water. They quack out their joy. Here, sit down on the grass, and lets watch them, for they have started diving, and it will be lots of fun.

Thank you for coming with me to my Duck Pond, and letting me share what I enjoy so much. And thank you to Jesus, who has made all these things for our  pleasure.

The Crimson Thorns

        It is a wet, foggy morning in late November. The smell of freshness and rain is everywhere, and a gentle morning breeze blows. I can hear a variety of sounds, from the leaves which are softly falling, to a bird’s faint chirping and the crows loud cawing. Turning towards a tree bare of leaves, I notice clear drops of water hanging like crystals at the end of each twig.

            I stoop to investigate a small thorny plant growing nearby. It is a blackberry plant, and has a crimson stem. Adding still more to its beauty, the leaves are framed with the same color as the stem. With a little amazement I notice that a mixture of groundcover and plantain grows underneath the slightly tall plant. Plantain is round-leafed, with no thorns. As I look, it dawns on me that here is an obvious lesson. The thorns are trials. They are stained with crimson-blood. They are thorny. They hurt. That is not all, though. Underneath are comforting, soft and beautiful blessings. “All things work together for good to those who love God; to those who are called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28 

The Wood Stork

It was a rather cold and rainy day for a vacation at the beach, but my family and I were making the most of it that we possibly could.  As we walked along in the park grounds just behind De Soto beach, one of us noticed a strange and most interesting looking bird. Its bald, almost ugly, head sat on top of a body covered in silky white feathers. Out from underneath those feathers stuck two long, spindly legs, designating it as a stork. As my brother Dublin and I took turns taking pictures of this Wood Stork, it slowly flapped its huge wings and flew away. Though we did not realize it at the time of the sighting, a ranger later informed us that we had seen a very rare and endangered bird.

            Despite its bald head, sparsely feathered neck, and large curved bill (which all makes for a shocking appearance), the Wood Stork can be very graceful when gliding, and sometimes soars on thermals for up to 80 miles going from nesting to feeding areas. They have a wingspan of 5 to 5 1\2 feet, and are 45 inches tall.

            Wood Storks are the only true storks in the United States. Yet, even these beautiful rarities were allowed to go to waste for many years. Due to increasing pollution and habitat destruction, their numbers decreased from 18,000 birds in the 1970’s to 10,000 in the 1980’s. There are only about 4,000-5,000 Wood Storks in southern Florida right now, and historically there were up to 20,000! They were placed on the endangered list in 1984.

            These birds are quite vulnerable when it comes to habitat loss because of their fishing methods. They need shallow water, salt or fresh, to catch their meals in. They stick their open bill in the water, and wait patiently for an unsuspecting fish to touch their bill. When this touch is felt, they snap their bill shut, in about one-fifth of a second. And there’s dinner! However, it’s not always that easy. The hunting grounds of the Wood Stork are drained away into the ocean, due to human water management. Then, where are they supposed to find food? And if there isn’t a large enough supply of food to feed everyone through the breeding season, they won’t breed. A pair of Wood Storks and their young eat over 400 pounds of food during the breeding season. Can you see why the numbers decrease so rapidly?

            The Wood Stork’s featherless head has earned him a number of nicknames; Flinthead, Ironhead, Gourdhead, Spanish Buzzard… uncomplimentary, perhaps? Some other names for him include Wood Ibis and Preacher, perhaps because of his dignified air.

            These big birds choose to breed in cypress, and sometimes mangrove, swamps, preferably on or near the coast. They nest in huge colonies, which can number up to 10,000 birds. However, since there has recently been such a loss of habitat and decline in numbers, the numbers are probably not quite so striking anymore. They lay two or three white eggs on a stick platform in the cypress trees, and there are usually several nests in each tree. Usually only two young survive from each nest.      

            They have no muscles attached to their voice box, and so they are usually very quiet, but occasionally they will make a dull croak or a snake-like hiss. The young make lots of clattering with their bills.

            From reading through these facts, you can see what fascinating birds Wood Storks are. I am so glad God made so many interesting creatures, even though sometimes we can’t see the beauty in their featherless heads!

A Spring Mornings Frolic

It was a bright, sunny morning in April. The sky was a crystal blue and the budding trees bordered it with a living green. My brother, my dad, and I marched happily along between two waving green fields, the soft spring grass underneath us muffling the sound of our steps. Buttercups shouted that smiles are necessary. Birds twittered and laughter prevailed. Joy was everywhere.

We turned off the grassy path that borders our property, onto our neighbors gravel drive, and tramped through a wet, sweet smelling, marsh of a cow pasture. I held my breath as we picked our way over strong smelling cow manure, and watched timidly as a huge, red, bull stared at us.

Now a bright yellow patch of sun-fallen-to-earth claimed everyone’s attention. We had reached our destination. Quick as a wink my brother and I were deep inside the maze of wild yellow turnip flowers; but it did not take long for our gusto to wear down a bit. We had discovered that charging headlong through the tangled mass of green and yellow was no easy task. As we slowed down we were better able to appreciate the intricate design of what surrounded us. A brown spider was beautiful against the bright green of the ground cover. His web was sparkling with morning jewels of dew. The far off pond reflected the glory of the sky. The “Peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philippians 4:7) was everywhere. 

Who Am I

        See if you can guess what animal these paragraphs speaks of.

       

Hi! Welcome to the woods, and welcome to my rock den. Actually, this is not my main den, only one of my several auxiliary, or shelter, dens. My three kittens, which were born in Mid-June, are in the main den. Now that they are two months old they are beginning to eat solid foods. So here I am trying to catch them a Mouse or Rabbit, or whatever will come in my reach.

I am about three feet long, and two feet high. I am usually yellow brown, with a short, heavily spotted, coat. I have short tufts on my pointed, upright ears, and my tail is short with a black tip. My family lives in Southern Canada, Central and Western USA, and throughout Northern Mexico.

 Well, I guess I better keep on a-huntin’. Can you guess who I am?

Our Friend, the Elk

Excitement ran high in our household as we prepared our camping gear, bedding, clothes, and all the rest. We were going camping at the Buffalo River! We were going to spend time with some very dear friends on this camping trip. We talked of the fun we would have, the things we would do, and how good it would be to spend three days with friends. After we successfully stuffed everything into our minivan, we finally drove away. And the fun began.

A few hours later we met our friends and crossed Bull Shoals Lake (in Arkansas) on a ferry. Shortly afterwards we stopped for a delicious picnic overlooking the lake.

As we drove along the dirt road near the river bed, we noticed that there was not even a puddle in it! Our plan was to canoe to our campsite, but it would take a lot of pushing and pulling to make any headway on that river! Obviously we had to be content with the regular campground. (We later learned that stretches of the Buffalo River go underground in the driest part of the year. However there was some slow-flowing water behind our camp.)

We arrived at our campsite shortly before sundown and set up camp before it got dark. As we were putting up the tents, someone noticed that there was an Elk roaming around our neighbor’s camp. All of the children ran over to see him, and we chuckled with glee as he smelled the dishes, startled the horses, and finally, surprised the lady of the camp by rounding a corner and staring at her from a few feet away. It was a young Elk, probably a yearling, or Spike. He hung out around the campground all that evening. After a wonderful evening around the campfire and an after-dark walk to the river, we retired to our tents.

          We awoke that morning ready for fun, and we got lots of it as the day progressed! Early that morning, before breakfast, and while the fog was still rising from the water, some of us went down into the woods behind our camp a little ways. There we found my Dad, who is an avid photographer, getting some close-up pictures of the Elk we had seen the previous night. As long as we didn’t surround him or get to close, he didn’t really mind our presence. After tarrying at the waters edge for a little while, we went back up to our much desired breakfast.

          We enjoyed a nice Sabbath hike that morning, and greatly enjoyed the view from a cliff called the “Narrows”. This massive rock is rightly named, for it is extremely narrow! It rose up straight from the river on one side, and our trail hugged it on the other. Our band of exploring boys found a way to safely climb on top of this cliff, and most of us followed. It was indeed very, very, skinny. One section, I noticed, was only about three feet wide and a sheer drop on both sides. Needless to say we didn’t go there. Still, it was only a few feet wide where we were standing. From our lofty perch we could see two majestic cave openings. A Bald Eagle flew over our heads in the clear blue sky.

           We returned to camp and partook of a delicious lunch. My Brother Dublin discovered the Elk behind our camp. He was laying down chewing his cud. Apparently he liked our company. Dublin sat down near him and slowly got closer and closer to him until he was only a few inches away. The Elk didn’t seem to mind at all. Soon he was scratching him under the chin and behind the ears and he acted like he was enjoying it. One by one we all took turns rubbing, scratching and loving on him until everyone had gotten a turn, and then we did it all over again. While my Mom and I were petting him he laid his head in her lap and fell asleep. The crickets and cicadas were singing, and the younger children played in the sand. He stayed in that comfortable position for quite a while, and we all sat around and visited while he enjoyed our human company. After some time he slowly unfolded himself and walked a few feet into the woods, where he started eating. Needless to say, he got more portraits taken in that short amount of time than many people do in their whole lives!

          We wonder if perhaps this Elk was hand raised, or at least had some association with people before we saw him. We may never know, but we are glad we were able to have such a wonderful time with him!

          Our Heavenly Father loves to make us happy, and he will give you special experiences in nature if you let him. This is exactly the type of experience we can have in heaven every day if we follow Jesus.

Welcome!

Welcome to my blog! I will mainly be posting stories that I have written about my nature experiences, and occasionally some photos. My two brothers and I are home-schooled, and I plan to post articles that I write for school.
Happy Holidays!

Emerald