The Story in the Over/Understory

and the benefits of regularity

The observer is part of nature, and like the one in Heisenberg’s principle, affects the results of their observations.

This morning, on my second nature walk of the week at Timber Creek, I followed the calls of a bluejay and a red-bellied woodpecker harassing a red-shouldered hawk around the forest. On Monday, I caught a brief glimpse of the hawk as it flew over the creek, but today my ears were my only guide. (I had a little help from the Merlin app in identifying the hawk and woodpecker.)

This both gave me a sense of belonging, and a sense of being an outsider, as the birds may have been reacting to my presence, as well. The birds at the creek are on the skittish side. When I was in Virginia and South Carolina, the snowy egrets would let me come close:

A snowy egret and a tiny downy woodpecker on a wooden railing beside a green lagoon in South Carolina, on Kiawah Island.

The great blue heron who hunts at Timber Creek flies away at first sight, even if I’m far up on a ridge. And the green heron that I saw through my monocular this morning (a Nocs Zoom Tube) remained far from view of the naked eye. Some critters, like the skunks, and raccoons, I only see by their tracks:

Four raccoon paw prints and claw tip marks in sand, with sneaker and shoe treads all around.

The birds all know I’m there, even when I “fox-walk” as Tom Brown Jr taught, and tread very lightly. I wrote about missing a lot when I’m on my trail bike, and that’s to be expected; it’s for fun and exercise, not for sneaking up on animals to view. Though sometimes speed helps! I see a lot of deer as they bound away, and one made me crash to avoid its leap over the trail. And this weekend, at Tall Pines Preserve (a former golf course beloved by dog walkers) I nearly ran over a fat Dekay’s Brown Snake, who didn’t even see me fly by. I was able to walk up to them, thinking them dead, and they flickered out their tongue and quickly thrashed away into the understory before I could snap a picture.

I used to play with small Dekay’s snakes as a child, and this fourteen-incher was the largest specimen I’ve seen. The white diamond pattern on their back was striking. I kept thinking how close I came to killing it, and resolved to be more aware of the trail when I rode, even on pavement.

At Timber Creek, I am beginning to feel like a regular. I don’t know Jay or Red, but I’ve been privy to their conversation at the lunch counter. I’m guessing that Jay would prefer that Red order something other than the Blue Plate Special. While I don’t yet feel like Annie Dillard did at Tinker Creek, or Thoreau at Walden, it is a good feeling to be part of a place.

Do you have a place like this?