Author: Michelle

Hello friends,

It’s been a while. A whole month! All is well here, albeit full-on. I’ve been working Saturdays, which cuts into my whole getting-out-into-nature vibe. The photos above were taken right at sunset last Friday night. This is a screech owl – so tiny (this one was about 7 inches tall) and so perfect. She was just waking up, still a little snoozy. As the minutes passed she became more active, standing on the edge of her home before flying off into the darkness. Before you start worrying about me being alone in the dark in a national park – I brought Chris along as my security detail.

Pokey moved to Boston last weekend. We will miss him, but Sam is over-the-moon to have him back, so I am happy.

Tomorrow is Winter Solstice. I’m glad. These short, dark days take a toll on me. Just knowing that each day after tomorrow will be that little bit longer does my little heart good.

My last post was about strength. Gaining strength in my body and mind. I’m proud that each day since that post I have focused on nourishing my body and strengthening my core muscles. I’ve gone to bed each night with no regrets in regards to how I took care of my body that day. I’ve become really interested in a type of movement called “animal flow” – this is the video that first piqued my interest in animal flow. In early January I will doing this 10-day beginners animal flow challenge.

I’m not sure if I’m going to do a “24 for 2024” list for the new year. I really enjoyed my “23 for 2023” list – I think I chose well, and got nearly all of them done. I’m just feeling really tired at the moment. I’m getting over a cold, working 50 hours a week, dealing with problematic dynamics in the workplace, scaffolding my child’s first few months in a new city/state/job/apartment with three phone calls a day plus multiple texts, and working on my New Zealand immigration paperwork, which has mainly involved chasing down my suddenly elusive doctors to provide proof that I’m not actively dying from cancer and/or being a danger to myself and others (as everyone taking anti-anxiety meds is likely to be, apparently). It’s all a bit much, frankly.

If I sound frazzled, I am. But at the same time, I’m feeling calm, if that’s possible. And I’m grateful for so much. For one thing, I’m grateful to live in a world that has screech owls. And actually, that one thing is enough for me tonight.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

It’s 1:19 in the afternoon as I write this, and already the sun has begun its descent in the western sky. Sunset isn’t for another four and a half hours, but I can feel the darkness waiting impatiently in the wings. Shadows are long and the light has that “golden hour” quality that I appreciate much more at about, say, 6 or 7pm. It’s a beautiful day and I wish I could appreciate that beauty more, live in the moment more, without wanting more. 

Last weekend I had a very quick trip to the east coast. Flew into Providence on Saturday. Drove back to Ohio from Boston on Sunday. That will be my final trip anywhere in 2023 and I am relieved to just stay put for a while. The first photo above was taken at the first Pennsylvania rest stop on I-90 after crossing over from New York. That blue strip on the horizon is Lake Erie. The I-90 route back to Ohio is a new one for me, and I was surprised by just how many miles of vineyards there were in upstate New York. The fall colors were still so stunning. 

A loved one of mine just lost one of their loved ones this weekend. It was unexpected and it has haunted me all day.  Lately I have been talking with my friends about staying physically strong for the long haul – because we don’t want to be that frail-looking 80-year-old in the grocery store. What we don’t think about is the fact that we might not make 80. Or 70. Or tomorrow. I’m realizing that I might need to shift my goal from the long-term to the here and now. Living each day so that I am stronger (mentally and physically) when my head hits the pillow at the end of the day than when I woke up that morning. I might not necessarily feel the difference, of course, as the change will be incremental – but I’ll be able to look back at the day and see what I’ve done, in concrete ways, to gain that strength.

There are still six weeks left in 2023, but in the spirit of the here and now, I am claiming a new one-word-theme right now, before 2024 begins. It might just be the theme for the rest of my life: STRONG. It’s a combination of aspiration and affirmation. I’m not a weak person. I’ve come through a lot in life. But I feel like I suffer internally more than I should – that life takes more of a toll on me than it should. I’m tender-hearted and I care WAY too much about things I shouldn’t care that much about. So, I’m seeking more mental resilience and strength and a large dash of “don’t give a fuck”. Physically, I know exactly what to do to become stronger, and I have much of that in place already, but I need to take it up a notch, become more accountable to myself, and put myself higher up on my list of priorities (and realize that putting myself at number one on the list does not make me selfish, a bad mother, a bad worker, or a bad partner).

I hope you are doing well this weekend, friends. Here in the States this week brings Thanksgiving, which will be a quiet affair with just Chris and Pokey and me.

I am thankful for you.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

We turned the clocks back last night. I woke up this morning with a case of the Sunday scaries. Which isn’t fair. Sunday scaries aren’t supposed to show up until about 3pm. I instinctively knew what to do, though. I opened up the Libby app on my phone and checked out some Mary Oliver digital books from the library. Then around 9:00 I drove to Beaver Marsh, one of the most visited and most beautiful parts of the Cuyahoga Valley National Park.

The last time I was at Beaver Marsh was mid-August, I think. Wood ducks were everywhere. Red-winged blackbirds seemed to cling to every reed. Green herons, bullfrogs, muskrats abounded. Everything was green; water lilies were threatening to cover the entire marsh; turtles lined up on fallen logs to sun themselves.

Beaver Marsh on November 5 was a colder, quieter place. There were a dozen or so Canada geese, some mallard couples, one blue heron who decided to stay behind while the others migrated south. It felt a little empty and sad, but then I decided to pay attention to the beauty that was still there. Berries of all kinds were left on branches and vines. The colors were brilliant.

Later I went to the gym to do some strength training, took a nap, and raked the rest of the leaves in our yard with Chris. I read my Mary Oliver. The scaries went away, as they always do.

Nature. Movement. Poetry. Rinse and repeat.

I hope you have a wonderful week, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

In the last three weeks, I have been to Boston twice – first apartment-hunting, then moving. Sam is now in a cute apartment close to work and close to the subway. The entire affair was not without its dramas — Boston is a crazy, competitive, expensive real estate market; the apartment turned out to not be immediately habitable on move-in day; and there were a couple moments when I secretly had my doubts the whole thing would gel.

Driving from Boston back to Ohio last Wednesday I knew that, as tired as I was, I needed to get right back into my routines. Back to the gym. Back to eating right. This weekend included naps and walks and a trip to the library. I feel ready to face a full five-day work week. Actually, I’m looking forward to the routine of it all.

I’ve gone beyond my “23 for 2023” goal of reading 23 novels. I listened to two books on the long Ohio to New England drive and back, and for some reason they were both post-apocalyptic. The first, “The Girl With All the Gifts” by M.R. Carey was of the zombie apocalypse variety. I enjoyed it until I didn’t enjoy it anymore — I feel like it went on too long, and I really am not into zombie stories. It had a nice twist on the theme, I thought, but then it devolved to really just another running-from-zombies story. The book I listened to on the way home was “Station Eleven” by Emily St. John Mandel, which was of the pandemic apocalypse variety. I enjoyed it much more than “The Girl With All the Gifts.” It was surprising, really. From the title, I was expecting something completely different from what it turned out to be, which was a very character-driven story about how our lives touch the lives of others. I highly recommend it.

I still feel like I am recovering from all of the moving rigamarole. It was a lot. A whole lot. This post is just to let you know I’m still here (wasn’t that the purpose of my previous blog post?) Life has just been full-on. I’ll be back soon, I promise.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

I’m still here, dear friends, nearly six weeks after my last post. Life has been full-on. Long story short – Sam is now firmly tucked under my sister’s and niece’s wings and has finished week one of an exciting new job in Boston. I have been back home for about ten days and I’m still finding my footing in this empty nest. Well, not quite so empty as Pokey is still here with us (for now). I’ve been walking more, lifting weights at the gym again, trying out new recipes. One thing I haven’t done for the last month is pick up my big-girl camera. I decided not to bring it on the road trip out east, then kicked myself after seeing my sister’s amazing zinnia bed which seemed to attract every hummingbird within a one-mile radius. Since I’ve been back, other pursuits have taken up my free time.

I am prioritizing my health these days, focusing on diet and physical strength/flexibility/balance. I let stress have the upper hand for most of the spring and summer and slacked off on everything I know I should do for my health. I didn’t do horribly, just not well – and the bathroom scale told that sad tale with just three digits. I have an appointment with my primary care physician next week to discuss my latest bone density scans (they weren’t what I had hoped for, but could have been worse). I’m going to ask for a referral to a bone specialist, as I feel like both my PCP and my oncologist have the same, simplistic answer, “Do more weight bearing exercise, consume more calcium – oh, and here’s a drug.” Just from my own research I know that there’s more that can be done to prevent further bone loss and future fractures.

I feel like I don’t have much to say at the moment, but I wanted to get back in the saddle and not let too much time go by without letting you know I am fine and thinking of you all.

And now, I think I’ll take a nap.

Have a wonderful weekend, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Today I am sixty years and no days old. Yesterday I traveled two hours west and visited Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge (in Ottawa County, Ohio – not Canada!), Magee Marsh, and Howard Marsh. If you do the math you’ll realize I got up very early to have caught the sunrise when I arrived there! I made a playlist of songs-that-make-me-happy to listen to on the drive out, and downloaded a pre-curated Apple Music playlist of Broadway show tunes for the ride back. I thought a lot about the fact that if I’m lucky I have about 20 years or so left of this life, and the fact that ten years ago I fully expected not to see my 60th birthday. I thought about all the things I’ve done and places I’ve seen over the last ten years (started a new job; saw Sam through high school, college, and now young adulthood; went to London, the Cotswolds, Paris, Florence, New Zealand; survived cancer and a pandemic; started birdwatching and photography and blogging). My 50’s were incredibly full, with glorious highs and heartbreaking lows.

And now I’m in my 60’s. I know that I can only plan so much, that sometimes life does throw curveballs. I also know that we can create a life that makes us contented. We can seek out small daily joys, we can save and plan for travel and experiences, we can choose what we allow into our heads and souls and bodies, and how we spend our free time. I want my 60’s, and the rest of my life, to be more intentional. I want to never forget that each day is a gift, and I want to honor that gift, each and every day.

Thank you for being here, for being so kind in your feedback about this blog. Thank you also for all of the birthday greetings I’ve received from near and far.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

I’ve stayed close to home the last couple of weekends, photographing the birds in my backyard or in the park at the end of the street. I’m doing a big clean-out of our garage and basement, giving away some things, throwing other things out. It is very satisfying, but time consuming. I’ve had to prioritize it over spending an entire weekend morning at a park 45 minutes away. Next weekend I will make up for it, as I’ve prioritized Nature Time over everything else on my 3-day 60th birthday weekend.

Here are some simple joys from last week:

1. Feeding my crows. They still fly away when I approach, and I don’t know if they will ever warm up to me, but I get such satisfaction from walking down to the park each morning with my little baggie of treats (some combination of dog food and unsalted nuts – hazelnuts, almonds, peanuts).
2. I’m in the office 5 days a week now, and it is a (highly) air conditioned environment. That moment when I get into my sun-warmed car to drive home at lunchtime or the end of the day, when the heat penetrates deep into my bones, is the loveliest feeling.
3. Deadheading our daisies
4. Notes and early birthday presents from friends
5. Getting caught in the rain with Sam and Pokey on a walk today. We were drenched, and I wished I had not brought my iPhone with me because my joy was slightly marred by my fear that my phone would be ruined (it wasn’t).
6. Finding out that I reached the front of the line for a book I’ve been waiting several weeks for (I would tell you the title and author of the book, but it’s very much a guilty pleasure, lol).
7. Seeing the first leaves turn color.
8. Watching a movie in a theater again. Last week Chris and I saw Mission Impossible, and the week before we saw Oppenheimer. After all the restrictions of Covid, what a joyful experience it is being able to sit in front of that big screen again, having a common experience with many other people.
9. A new coworker I’ve been training has brought such a fabulous positive energy to our team. She’s been with us for four weeks now; she and I have worked side-by-side for many hours and now she’s nearly completely independent. Having a coworker who makes you laugh, who takes the job seriously but doesn’t take herself too seriously – what a joy it has been and continues to be.
10. There are several hawks living in our neighborhood and in the park. When I go to feed my crows in the morning there are usually one or two hawks hanging out on top of a utility pole or on the fence behind home base. They aren’t terribly skittish, and let me get quite close before flying away. I don’t think it will ever get old for me, seeing a large bird of prey. They are so beautiful.

I hope your week is full of simple joys, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

My favorite part of nature is how it surprises me over and over again. In my previous blog post there is a photo of a red-tailed hawk on the ground. I was walking along thinking that it had been a relatively slow day, when all of a sudden I saw something large about two feet away from the trail. She was feeding on some tasty morsel and was completely unconcerned with my presence. I have never been so close to a hawk before and most likely never will again. I was in such awe to be near such a beautiful, wild thing.

Last week I came home from work for lunch one afternoon and found this hummingbird clearwing moth enjoying its own tasty morsels in my hummingbird garden (which I have rebranded as my pollinator garden because the hummingbirds aren’t interested). I immediately went inside to retrieve my camera, hoping it wouldn’t be gone when I got back. I was so lucky to be able to snap the photos above. I had heard of hummingbird clearwing moths before, and had seen photos others have taken of them in this area, but the utter surprise of seeing one in my own garden – it made my day/week. I was only able to see its wings by taking these photos – these moths hover over flowers in the same way that hummingbirds do (hence the name), beating their wings at a speed so fast that they are just a blur to the naked eye.

One of my “23 for 2023” projects is to compile a list of simple delights/joys. I know that Nature’s Surprises will be in the top ten. I’m still working on the others but they are coming to this space soon!

Have a wonderful week, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

From the poem “The Great Lover” by Rupert Brooke:

These I have loved:

White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,

Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust:

Wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust

Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;

Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;

And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;

And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny

hours,

Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;

Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon

Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss

Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is

Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen

Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;

The benison of of hot water; furs to touch;

The good smell of old clothes; and other such —

The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,

Hair’s fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers

About dead leaves and last year’s ferns…

I hope you are doing well, dear friends. I am hanging in there! Have a lovely week.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Last week was difficult. Work was overwhelming. I’m training a new worker in my department during one of our busy times, and I still really don’t know when I’m going to get my own work done. It seems mathematically impossible. On top of this, we had a plumbing crisis at home that needed professional assistance. That was the morning I did what I absolutely never want to do – I cried at work. Ugh. As someone who always wants to project a calm, professional image, crying in the workplace feels unprofessional and humiliating.

I spent this weekend clawing my way back from all that awfulness. Yesterday I did some garden therapy – I bought some edging and mulch at our local Ace Hardware and gave a makeover to a little garden patch by our front door. I pulled weeds in my hummingbird garden and between the stones of our patio.

Today I drove 45 minutes to a park that I also visited last weekend. It’s worth the drive – 500+ acres of wetland and wildlife preserve with an amazing variety of birds. Dozens of egrets. Sandpipers. Eagles. Great blue herons. Cormorants. In all, over 250 species have been observed there since the park opened in 1999. I spent about 3 hours there this morning and when I left to drive back home I felt…better. Not perfect, but better.

And better is better than worse. I’ll take it.

Before I go, I have to tell you about my crows. At the end of my street is a park with two baseball diamonds, an enormous play set for children, and a lovely nature trail. There is a gang of four crows (I know a group of crows is called a “murder” but I’m not a fan of that term) that hangs out by the baseball diamonds around 7:00 each morning. For the last week and a half I have been walking to the park every morning with a baggie of unsalted peanuts in the shell and hazelnuts. I make three small piles of nuts between 2nd and 3rd base, then I retreat and watch the crows eat from afar. This brings me great joy. 🙂

Have a wonderful week, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo