Cicadas

Parents (or heck, adults who want a fun project on their desk while working from home) this is something fun and safe you can do with your iPhone.

Dog day cicada freshly emerged from its  exoskeleton. The wings and body will get darker as it dries out.

Dog day cicada freshly emerged from its exoskeleton. The wings and body will get darker as it dries out.

I got a bit obsessed with insects this past summer. Not traveling and moving to a home with a backyard gave me the opportunity to really study and observe things I’ve always wondered about, like cicadas. The older I get, the more I groove on cicadas, they are a sense memory of childhood as summer was marked by their sounds. Where I grew up in Indiana and where I lived we primarily had scissor-grinder cicadas, Linnea’s cicada and some of the periodic species like 13 year cicada. But in Minnesota we mostly we have the dog day cicada—although last summer for the first time ever I did hear a scissor-grinder cicada singing in my front yard. My new neighbors already think I’m a little eccentric but thought it over the top when I leapt up with my phone to record the sound of a new Minnesota cicada. They asked, “Wait what? You can ID bug calls too?”

Cicada nymph found on a neighborhood bike rid

Cicada nymph found on a neighborhood bike rid

This summer I found a number of dog day cicadas emerging around my new place. Some were found gardening, others in the grass. Goodspeed was working in our garden, digging out some rocks and brought one over, “Look at these crazy insects I keep finding!” I knew immediately they were cicada nymphs and told him to put them back, that they were after tree roots, not any of the perennials.” I later read that dog day cicadas have a preference for pine trees. The neighbor has a large white pine and I’m sure its shallow root system makes it way to the backyard and that’s what the nymphs were after.

True to their name, when the hottest part of summer hit, the cicadas began to sing and I found their shells on hostas, the front yard maple tree, in the grass or the driveway. I’ve had an aversion to the nymphs ever since I was a kid. I think it’s because as kids we loved stepping on empty cicada shells for the satisfying crunch sound. One day I watched a girl crunch one shell with her bare foot and then squish a freshly emerged cicada with her other bare foot. I still can hear her wails of disgust and rage ringing in my ears 40 years later. Also, they look gross and like they can bite you. But at this stage of their life, they are finished eating and don’t really bite. If you pick them up and let them crawl on you, you will feel the grip of their feet—which makes sense. They are looking for something to grip while they go through the vulnerable process of emerging from their shell.

I picked up a few and used the time lapse feature on my iPhone to get this video.

You can make one of these too!

1. Find a cicada freshly emerged from the ground, this can happen at any time of day. When you find one, you have 15 to 30 minutes before the process gets going.

2. Find a good rough stick for the nymph to crawl on and get comfortable. Place the stick in a vase or glass that will keep the stick steady.

3. Find a way to aim your smartphone at it for awhile. Thanks to the pandemic and working from home all the time, I have a selfie stick that also works as a tripod and has a ring light. This is perfect for holding the phone steady and giving enough light to really see the process well. Pro tip, if you tap and hold your finger on your iPhone screen it will not only lock the focus, but the exposure as well. And then I hit start on the time lapse button and an hour later I have a green cicada and a really cool video.

4. Now, if you are worried about the cicada flying all over your house when it comes out—no need. As long as it’s light green, it’s not going to fly. It can crawl. Once the cicada is out for about five minutes, I either set the stick with the cicada on it outside the front door, or let it crawl onto the trunk of the maple tree to let it finish and then be on its way.

I love how time lapse on smart phones gives the opportunity to observe nature and share it with the world. If you choose to share this on Instagram, people will think you’re the next Attenborough!

Here’s my selfie stick/ring light set up. I got this because it makes you look awake at video meetings and is perfect for making time lapse videos of insects. I think I got this on Amazon for about $18, it even has a grip that will hold most models of smartphones.

Here’s my selfie stick/ring light set up. I got this because it makes you look awake at video meetings and is perfect for making time lapse videos of insects. I think I got this on Amazon for about $18, it even has a grip that will hold most models of smartphones.

Cicada I found on my car tire in the summer of 2019. Their wings are quite beautiful when they first emerge.

Cicada I found on my car tire in the summer of 2019. Their wings are quite beautiful when they first emerge.

Cicadas are incredible creatures: a tremendous source of food for other insects, birds and mammals (even humans), you can ID them by song and there’s a rich variety in their song. The adults lay eggs on tree branches and the young hatch and fall to the ground, burrowing in to feed on the sap of tree roots. Different species stay underground for different periods. I’ve read the dog day cicadas take three years to develop into a winged adult—and then live about a week in that form. Some species can be underground for over a decade, think the 13 year cicada or the 17 year cicada.

It also works for me as a metaphor. The above cicada on my car tire was found the morning after I’d made a giant life altering decision. I had things to do and was irritated this was on my back tire, but at the same time I was struck by the vibrant hue of the green wings, the beauty sucked me in. I sat watching it and contemplating the life of a cicada. Here was something that was burrowed under the soil for many years, in the dark, perfectly content to suck the sap of a root of a tree, living in their self construct burrow. Over time, they get coated in anal fluid. Then one day, that’s not the life they need and they have to come up through the soil, to open air, the unknown and then go through what looks like a very uncomfortable process and live what life they have left to live. And they do it in a completely new way. There’s can be a lot to learn from a cicada.

April 2020 Transforming A Yard For Birding

Let me tell you, moving during a pandemic…don’t really recommend it. But in April I moved right in between the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul to a town called Falcon Heights. Some would call it a suburb, I call it convenient. And before any wiseacre asks are there any falcons in Falcon Heights, it is robust with merlins. So much so that in April not only did I show merlins to friends who visited the yard, one night a male and female came screaming in, locked talons and crash landed on my next door neighbor’s roof. After that they copulated loudly with abandon.

So yeah, there are falcons in Falcon Heights.

There were bird feeders in the yard but they were tucked back in a corner, surrounded by bushy native plants and not as easily viewable as I’d like unless you were standing in one particular spot in the kitchen. That was something that always baffled me when I ran a bird store. Why bother with the expense of a bird feeder and seed if you don’t have it placed somewhere that you can easily view it? The birds really don’t need your seed. You’re essentially providing fast food for the birds, they can’t survive on it alone, it can help but they have their eyes on lots of food out there.

So poles were moved, feeders were added, squirrel baffles adjusted and appropriate seed purchased. Before long the birds took note. After adjust the feeders it took about a week for the birds to be on board. It took even longer for the woodpeckers to get the idea. But I knew from experience that chickadees will check out a new feeder first. Once they start, the others followed. And so it began.

Fly thru feeder is fifteen feet away from a tree trunk or branches. Coupled with a baffle, the squirrels stay out of it. Small suet cage was attractive to small woodpeckers.

Fly thru feeder is fifteen feet away from a tree trunk or branches. Coupled with a baffle, the squirrels stay out of it. Small suet cage was attractive to small woodpeckers.

Northern flicker tries braving the suet cage. After this comedy show, I decided it was time for a bigger suet feeder.

Northern flicker tries braving the suet cage. After this comedy show, I decided it was time for a bigger suet feeder.

I love an old woodpile—so much bird potential (and native bees). Some of these were turned into feeders.

I love an old woodpile—so much bird potential (and native bees). Some of these were turned into feeders.

The yard came with a good base layer of native plants for Minnesota: chokecherry, pin cherry, wild American plum just to name a few. When spring really began to pop there was also brown-eyed Susan, rose hips, Joe Pye weed, butterfly weed and a host of others. I even tried my hand at planting a few natives and discover that I can actually grow cardinal flower without killing it and that it’s true, hummingbirds really like it.

But I really fell in love with the woodpile. So much bird feeding potential and it makes a great backdrop for taking pictures of birds. Quite a few species lurk around woodpiles looking for insects living in them. But native sparrows love them too. And since I wasn’t traveling or meeting friends for drinks after working in the home office all day, I began timing the end of my work day to coincide with golden hour—that great evening light and set up my digiscoping equipment and an adult beverage and just enjoyed my backyard birds. I even purchased a bag of extra fine sunflower chips and would scatter them far and wide for the native sparrows to pick out in the woodpile.

When I ran a bird store, I sold logs with holes for suet anywhere from $15.99 to $69.99. Not kidding, I sold a $70 holey log. This was a branch from the wood pile with holes drilled by an obliging young man…for free.

When I ran a bird store, I sold logs with holes for suet anywhere from $15.99 to $69.99. Not kidding, I sold a $70 holey log. This was a branch from the wood pile with holes drilled by an obliging young man…for free.

White-throated sparrow foraging around the woodpile.

White-throated sparrow foraging around the woodpile.

This hollow log gets everything from catbirds to cardinals to shrews to rabbits.

This hollow log gets everything from catbirds to cardinals to shrews to rabbits.

I love a chonky fox sparrow. They are my favorite MInnesota sparrow.

Dark-eyed juncos love some fine chips.

Dark-eyed juncos love some fine chips.

It was gratifying to know that I still “have it” when it comes to bird feeding. There was a planter tray that had been used as a birdbath. I took some pieces of limestone from the crumbling limestone patio and added to that to bird bath, the birds were in like a shot. I don’t know why, but birds seem to find baths faster with rocks. They love shallow water and I’m not sure if wet rocks are easier for them to see, but it makes a difference.

It’s not all drinking and birds. I do wander the neighborhoods quite a bit. I can’t stay idle and generally try to hit my 10,000 steps a day. If I ever get to lead bird walks again, I want to be ready. One day taking one of my many pandemic walks in the neighborhood a van swerved next to me and the driver asked, “Do you want to see a baby owl?”

I didn’t have binoculars on and the woman didn’t look like anyone I’d met in the neighborhood yet. “How did you know I was a birder,” I asked.

She looked confused and said, “I didn’t. I just assumed everyone wants to see a baby owl.”

Well, she’s not wrong in my case.

Turns out her friend lived in the neighborhood and had been posting the owls on her Facebook page. She was so excited that she wanted to share it with the world.

A brancher great horned owl.

A brancher great horned owl.

I saw the owls and marveled at how I’d missed the poop on the street. I cut myself some slack since I was relatively new to the hood. I went home to get my scope and came back for photos. I enjoyed watching the rest of their development over the months. This has turned out to be an owly neighborhood. They are hooting like crazy this November which I can only assume is early flirting and they are setting up territory nearby again.

There are worse places to land during a pandemic when a travel writer can’t fly. And it’s been a pleasure getting to know my yard birds again. I have always loved me some brown birds and the sparrow action in April did not disappoint. I did eventually get some colorful birds…but that’s a May story.

Lincoln’s sparrow pass through in April and October.

Lincoln’s sparrow pass through in April and October.

Song sparrow.

Song sparrow.

Naked Thanksgiving

I am probably one of the most prepared people for Thanksgiving during Covid.

I moved to Minnesota in the mid 90s with a very quiet man named Bill (or Non Birding Bill as many long time readers remember). Our first few holidays were torture for me. I was used to Thanksgiving and Christmas being large, noisy affairs with family members working hard to stake a claim over hosting and loud squabbles over political candidates or personal grievances. Holidays were loud, generally involved laughter, and occasional fights over politics and food. 

We weathered our first Thanksgiving after being taken in by a local actor and his roommate who served us copious amounts of scotch. By the time Christmas arrived it was just the two of us and too quiet. I was crying, the company of a taciturn man was not what the holidays were supposed to be for me. We were too poor and at the time both worked retail so traveling out of state to see our respective families was not an option.

Bill decided that  we should look into creating our own traditions. We dubbed it, “Naked Thanksgiving.” Being in our twenties, being naked and under a blanket made sense. But as the years went by, nudity became optional—especially while basting and we mostly wore pajamas all day. 

We would wake up to no alarm or if we felt really salty, we’d set the alarm for the sheer pleasure of turning off and going back to sleep. When we finally woke up, we ate pumpkin cream pie for breakfast and savored a glass of scotch. By the time pie comes around at a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, you are too stuffed to truly enjoy it. Pie for breakfast isn’t too different from eating a pastry for breakfast and pumpkin is a fruit, right? 

From there I would get to work on making our meal for later in the day. In my family Thanksgiving involves many carbs around a turkey: stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, dinner rolls, homemade cranberry relish, gravy, and a relish tray full of olives, pickles, carrots, and celery. Since it was the two of us, I only made our personal favorites. Turkey, stuffing, sliced cranberry jelly from a can, and gravy. And for the relish tray, I opted for a gin martini with extra olives. It goes perfectly with a turkey dinner. 

We would rent or download our favorite movies for the day that varied from watching odd things remembered from childhood like The Goodies or marathons of Bond Movies. We’d usually engage in other adult activities while the meal was cooking because…no one wants to that after eating a massive turkey dinner. It was the perfect day and is to this day my favorite holidays. I spent the day relaxed and full of gratitude while I watched friends and family fret and stress over their holiday visits.

Over the years friends and coworkers would lament about a stressful trip to visit family and complained about having to dress up or deal with uncomfortable conversations. I would reply, “I’m having Naked Thanksgiving where we eat pie for breakfast, watch tv all day and only eat the food we want, clothing optional. We might be really hedonistic and eat the cranberry sauce directly from the can.”

“I’m coming over,” they’d say.

My standard answer was, “Your first time, you have to be naked.”

No one ever came over. 

That relationship ended, but Naked Thanksgiving still sticks with me. I work for the National Park Service and one of our mottos is that we honor our history and traditions, but we are not bound by them. Holiday traditions are amazing family chains, but reinventing a holiday, even if it’s only temporary, still has value. 

If you are feeling pressure from family to have a large gathering and your gut is telling you to stay home, consider a Naked Thanksgiving. In fact, tell relatives who are pressuring you to “not live in fear” that you agree and you’re only going to participate in the gathering if nudity on board. I guarantee that they will request you to stay home. 

And then have your own personal Naked Thanksgiving. You don’t have to do it my way, maybe at your Naked Thanksgiving you’ll wear a tutu, or that extravagant feather robe you impulse purchased from a Facebook ad. Or maybe you’ll wear that ridiculous dress you bought and haven’t used all year because Covid. You don’t even have to have turkey, you could eat a mushroom lasagna if that is your favorite thing to eat. You could get take out pho. You can watch an Amen marathon or find a way to watch the only acceptable Anne of Green Gables with Megan Follows. You can also choose to drink bourbon and watch a bird feeder out the kitchen window, or drink tea and play mindless solitaire all day. You can spend it alone or with a friend from your pandemic pod. You can tell your kids to watch all the Disney while you spend four hours in a hot soaking tub. The point is, create your own scaled down Thanksgiving, be entrepreneurial. It’s what the American Spirit is all about.

Be grateful and if you need to, FaceTime over coffee or a beer with your family. 

It’s been a rough 2020 and creating your new Holiday can and will be rewarding. It can also be a one time lark that will make for an insane and hilarious story when we finally get vaccinated and share a meal in person again. 

We will be the insane grandparents/aunts and uncles reminiscing about our archaic past to future generations, “Remember that year during the pandemic when we all went a little mad over the holidays and ate Instant Pot turkey and cranberry jelly from a can while using ‘the social medias’ to communicate to family in our boxer shorts? Your generation doesn’t know hardship like mine does.”

I Guess I Am A Diamond Painting Artist Now?

Seriously. It’s official. I’m an artist. I’m part of an exhibit with MIA (aka Minneapolis Institute of Arts). I entered a Diamond Painting of one of my turkey vulture photos into their Foot In The Door Exhibit and made it in. The Foot in the Door Exhibit is basically a once every ten years event where anyone can enter art in it and MIA will put it on their walls. Normally it would be on their actual museum walls, but because of a the pandemic…it’s online.

I took a few screenshots of the exhibition with my pieces and pieces made by friends.

I took a few screenshots of the exhibition with my pieces and pieces made by friends.

Yet, It’s one of the few goals I actually got to keep this year and it was good for me to have something long term to work on. It makes it extra special to be in mixed media along with my friend Gayle Deutsch and artist Rob McBroom—the surrealist who always enters the Duck Stamp contest and never wins because…judges are too attached to art ducko: art that looks the same, almost like a photo (I’m not saying it isn’t a difficult or challenging technique, I’m just saying that it’s too wrapped up in only one style of art).

What is Diamond Painting? Well, if you follow me on the various social medias, you would have seen a few time lapses I made. It’s kind of a mix of cross stitch and paint by number with a little bit of a cryptogram thrown in. You get a canvas covered in sticky material. There are tiny little boxes with symbols in them. You have to match the corresponding color to its symbol by using a pen to set down little plastic diamonds. After many hours and tens of thousands of diamonds, you have your image. This image is a favorite of a turkey vulture photo that I took at Everglades National Park in Florida in 2016. It makes me chuckle that this pieces incorporates birds, digiscoping and a weird pop art. I am a little sad that people can’t see it in person, there’s so much texture to it and it’s shiny and sparkly as you move around it. However, I’ll take any win I can get this year and this is definitely a win for me.

Here’s a brief compilation of the time lapses I made this summer while working on the piece:

What the hell did I order? The title was “Jeff Goldblum Sunset.”

What the hell did I order? The title was “Jeff Goldblum Sunset.”

How does one get in to Diamond Painting…completely by folly and drunk ordering. When I got the package I had no idea what it was and I was so confused on what it could be. I put it on Facebook, “What the hell did I drunk order?”

My friend Gayle was quick to come out of the woodwork, “Um I linked to this two months ago. Did you click and buy it?

Clearly the answer was yes.

I tucked it away and thought maybe I’d find someone who wanted it since I had knitting and a supply of paint by numbers to work on. And then my mom got ill. Full disclosure: she is well today and just as sassy as ever. But at the time she was not and many things were very uncertain. And it’s very hard when your parents make decisions about their health that you do not agree with. My mom lives in Indiana and I live in Minnesota. I went down for visits, but most of my time was back up north. There was absolutely nothing I could do about the situation.

This is the chart that guides you on who to put down your various colored beads also called “drills.” The beads have a number on their bag. So the light green would be 3047 and it should be placed where you see an “X” on the sticky canvas.

This is the chart that guides you on who to put down your various colored beads also called “drills.” The beads have a number on their bag. So the light green would be 3047 and it should be placed where you see an “X” on the sticky canvas.

In a fit of cleaning and organizing I came across the mysterious Amazon package and took out the contents. None of it made sense to me so I did what any practical thinking adult would do—watch YouTube how to videos. I thought it looked insane and would take forever. Who has the time to do this? To get a fully informed opinion, I decided to try it. This was slow and painstaking, but oh…it sent me into a mediative state.

When Non Birding Bill came home that night and saw what I was doing, he said, “I’m not sure this is a good sign. This looks really insane.”

I agreed, yet persisted. Over several weeks.

An up close look at the stick canvas with the codes for the colors.

An up close look at the stick canvas with the codes for the colors.

Any free time I had, I worked on this over the next six weeks. I had ten minutes over coffee in the morning before going to work? I did it. NBB watching some weird move, I placed plastic beads on sticky canvas. Phone calls with relatives to catch up on Mom’s health? I put on more beads.

It soon became a challenge to keep the beads/drills corralled, spillage is inevitable. The bags weren’t really resealable. The beads are tiny and managed to find their way everywhere. One night, I took my bra off before bed and my chest was covered in them. I started using an old ice cube tray to keep colors separated. But even that had risks, like the day the tray accidentally flipped from the table on to the carpeting. I spent two hours painstakingly using a flashlight and tweezers to get as many as I could out of the carpet. When that spot was eventually vacuumed you could hear hundreds more get sucked up.

Fail.

Fail.

Fortunately, these companies give you far more beads than you will ever need. And with many you can reorder them if you have an absolute disaster. I have also seen things online where there are much better bead organizers and even specialized vacuums to help you with just such a tragedy. I haven’t ordered the special vacuum but I have ordered the bead organizer. It comes with its own suitcase…that matches my luggage.

I’m fine, really.

Jeff Goldblum gradually comes to life.

Jeff Goldblum gradually comes to life.

It took six weeks and 19,040 little plastic diamonds to put together Jeff Goldblum Sunset—that doesn’t include the many beads that were lost on my person, the carpet or eaten by my pet rabbit Dougal. But I stuck with it and the sense of accomplishment was well worth it. If I’ve learned anything with this craft it’s that yes, control is an illusion and I certainly can’t control many aspects of my life, but damn it, I can control over 19,000 beads to create an image. I can make them go where they are supposed to and even rearrange a few if the colors don’t look quite right.

The completed Diamond Painting of Jeff Goldblum Sunset

The completed Diamond Painting of Jeff Goldblum Sunset

I had no idea the amount of legend this first diamond painting had. When I moved this spring, I framed it and it was the first thing to go up in my home office along with a spotted owl painting that my mother did. Sometimes Jeff even shows up in the background of my live streams. When friends come over for a patio hangout they ask, “Can I see “Jeff?” It truly is a weird and wonderful thing and the texture and shininess always surprises people.

When MIA advertised their Foot in the Door exhibition I knew I wanted to do another one…because a pandemic will certainly fuck with your sense of control. But this time I wanted to do a custom piece of one of my own photos…enter in my favorite vulture photo. I love vultures, I also love the color of this piece and working these colors really help with my meditation. I sent my photo and desired dimensions to a company called Heartful Diamonds and their customer service was great. It takes a few weeks to get the actual kit but they do follow up in case your image doesn’t work in the dimensions you chose and they readily send out extra beads. If you want to attempt this, I’d highly recommend one of their pre made kits or attempting a custom one of your own.

Now…if you’re looking for weird, then check out the diamond painting kits on Etsy…be prepared, not all of them are safe for work and highly erotic.

And as I look down the barrel of a “Covid Winter” in Minnesota where patio hang outs aren’t going to be as readily of an option and the sun will be out for 7 hours a day, I have more on the way.


Skunks and Skulls March 2020

“I’d really love some quality time with a skunk,” I said to a person I’d been dating casually. (And they didn’t flee in horror.)

“Let’s go to my cabin,” he said.

I’m not sure if it was because Julie Zickefoose had shared a skunk on social media about the same time or if it simply dawned on me I hadn’t really watched a skunk the same way I watch other mammals, but I was really in the mood to see and maybe photograph a skunk.

I had just cancelled a flight to see friends who are more like family in Chicago, which was an uncharacteristically rash decision for me. I was worried I was being alarmist, but after reading tweets from an Italian doctor detailing how overwhelmed the hospitals were in Italy and that they were making decisions on who seemed the most likely to survive as opposed to treating everyone, it seemed irresponsible to travel on a plane. It looked like lockdown was a possibility for Minnesota as other cities were suddenly getting Covid cases in the United States.

“Let’s go to my cabin,” he said. “It’s remote, we can avoid people. There should be good birds at the feeders.”

This is what we found when we arrived at the cabin:

Arriving at the cabin, the deer didn’t even leave as we unloaded luggage.

Arriving at the cabin, the deer didn’t even leave as we unloaded luggage.

Hey, y’all got any more of that millet?

Hey, y’all got any more of that millet?

When you see this it is time to move your bird feeders. A recipe for CWD.

Yep. Those are some amazing “birds” at the feeder. But the cabin isn’t far from Sax Zim Bog and the surrounding county has lots of bog habitat to explore, something I’ve never really had time to visit because I was always traveling. The surrounding fields were chock full of rough-legged hawks and purple finches were well in abundance. I did take a road trip up to the far northern reaches to look for my nemesis bird: the spruce grouse. I was assured by more than one bird guide that this was the spot they took clients to for practically guaranteed grouse.

Alas, my nemesis curse still stands as a northern goshawk was perched at the grouse spot. Don’t get me wrong, I love goshawks, but I’ve seen them, banded them, had one perched on my arm, had a female try to kneecap me…I just want to look at a spruce grouse. Just once.

That was not to be. So I threw out to the universe that I’d like to see a skunk, in daylight and maybe get some photos or videos of one. When we arrived at the cabin, a deer that had been hit by a car was in a ditch on the property. Some canids had already gorged on the carcass. I’m not sure if it had been coyotes or wolves, both are in the area in abundance. As we headed out for some birding one morning, I looked to my left at the carcass and saw a small, black ball on it. “Skunk,” I said, a little surprised that I had sort of willed one out of this air. It trundled away to some melted snow and lapped up water and then headed back to the feast to be found among deer skin and bones.

The skunk has a bit of a rosy glow to the patches on the fur, no doubt from working on the deer carcass.

The skunk has a bit of a rosy glow to the patches on the fur, no doubt from working on the deer carcass.

When I think of a picture that I’ve taken to represent 2020, this one immediately pops up in my mind.

When I think of a picture that I’ve taken to represent 2020, this one immediately pops up in my mind.

I stayed with the skunk for a long time as the snow gently fell around us. Snow mobiles cruised in the distance, but it was just us. I made sure to give the skunk all the space it needed so it could chow down in peace. And I thought about what was happening. I was supposed to toasting friends in fancy restaurants and instead I was on the side of a county road watching a skunk devour roadkill. And I was enjoying the moment.

I wondered how a lockdown would impair my life going forward. I was actively looking for a new place to live and all the things I’d loved about apartments in the Twin Cities: gyms, saunas, pools, community outdoor space was all being closed off. I was still dealing with divorce forms. Birding events that booked me for my storytelling and workshops were cancelling and that’s a chunk of my income…which I’m now a sole income earner. I was reassessing what I really wanted for my future. When would I be able to travel again? And dating? How the hell do you do that in a pandemic? How do you tell someone nicely, “You’re really a lot of fun, but I can’t see you anymore. It’s not you, it’s the pandemic.”

As I watched the skunk deal with the unanticipated feast of roadkill, I thought about how a pandemic could be a way to do have a sort of “do over.” In some ways, a divorce is a do over, but if a pandemic is going to make life stop, what could I do with that? I love all the travel that I do, but there’s so much in Minnesota that I don’t get to see. Maybe stopping and taking the time to enjoy the skunk and roadkill was what I needed to reassess?

One person I had dated always made plans last minute. 99% of the texts asking, “Want to grab a drink tonight” were answered with, “I’d love to, but I have plans.” They said that I needed to work on my spontaneity. I countered with, “I make plans so I can be spontaneous.” Maybe not knowing what’s going to happen more than two weeks out was a change I need?

Anyway, if you love of a skunk chewing on roadkill being a metaphor for 2020, here’s a video to meditate on.