Tag: thoughts

nature, pileated woodpecker, writing

tat-tat-tat-tat

etikser

I lifted my eyes toward the treetops, and took in the jagged black and white underwings of a large bird. It flew below the canopy, but high among the branches, then landed halfway up a tree trunk and started drumming. It was about 50 feet from me, and I was happy to stand there for awhile to admire. Look up, listen, watch, marvel. Pileated woodpeckers are so impressive.

The sound of the woods is always wonderful. Quiet and still and noisy at the same time. There are crows cawing, some little bird sounds…the tweets and the chee-eeps. And often woodpecker sounds. The familiar drumming gives your eyes a direction to search, but the pileated woodpecker is still hard to spot. Some say it’s shy. This time, though, I could see it. I could watch that incredible crested head nodding to pick at the bark.

After a minute or so, the surrounding noise of the woods tugged my attention, and I recognized there was a second woodpecker. Louder, closer, somewhere behind me. I wondered, almost subconsciously, if the two were communicating with each other. My curiosity got the best of me, and I turned.

Ah-hah!

Another one. It was standing upright as woodpeckers do, easily balanced on the side of a tree, not far at all from me. [the one in the photo]

What magnificent creatures.

Photographed March 5, 2020

life, nature, photography

wood planks

etikser

photographed february 2, 2020

I saw these wood planks there in November, just past the edge of the path, in the leaves. I stopped and puzzled over them. They seemed out of place but purposeful. Real hikers and runners (that’s not me, unfortunately, as I’m more of a slow walker) plan ahead. This muddy spot was far sloppier than you can see from the picture. And I was grateful to whoever took the time to drag those boards into the woods.

november 2019

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© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.

All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

nature, winter

pin oaks

etikser

Limp lifeless dull rusty. Leftovers, more like tree clutter than adornment.

Nevertheless, on a February day, when the sky’s gray, and everything around you feels dreary and quiet, the wind picks up a bit, and there’s a soft rustle.

Something like a hiss.

Like frozen crystals brushing by in an icy snow, tick, tick, tick, tick.

Or maybe the scraping a towhee makes when it’s tossing sticks and leaves under brush on a summer’s hunt.

A little softer than the crunch of fancy tissue we bunch around a present for somebody’s birthday.

The pin oaks shiver with the breeze, then they whisper to the wind.

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photograph from january 18, 2020

life, non-fiction, personal writing

her smile

etikser

August 25, 2019

I was busy with myself, getting settled. Thinking about this and that. I don’t really like the hand-shaking. Seems unnecessary, but it’s what you do. So I turned to the left. To a young girl, around ten. A tender age. And a face looking up to me with sweetness and a ready smile. Then the mom. Like her daughter, a smile full of joy. A smile that went all the way to her eyes and to the far reaches of her face. Yes, some faces wear a smile end to end, and that was hers. No averted eyes, no reticence. A full smile, eyeball to eyeball. And her face was radiant, beautiful in the most natural way. She wore a black wrap on her head.

I turned back to myself. Who knows what I was thinking.

Time passed and it was time for our row to get up. The father, dark hair, maybe in his 40s. The girl. And then the mother, using a cane. Her pants, khaki slacks, the kind with a gathered waist, were easily three sizes too big. Like she’d lost 30 or 40 pounds. She didn’t look strong, as if walking was a struggle. There are times in life when reality smacks you in a flash, straight to your core. I don’t know what we’re supposed to feel, I’m not sure I could describe what I did feel. It felt numbing, and stunning, overwhelming, sad, desperate.

We made our way back. I think her face wasn’t smiling anymore. But it was beautiful in the most natural way.

life, nature, winter

dormant

etikser

Winter’s not the favorite, is it? It’s a cold, austere reality.

A lot of us, though, we need the winter months. Like bulbs, or trees, we need a bit of cold. We need a dormant period. We need the winter.

I do a lot of fall photos. The changing leaves and autumn colors make a lovely picture. But honestly, I don’t like fall.

9/11.

Other sorrows.

Fall leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Like I’m trying my best to hold on to summer, and that’s not working. Like I’m not ready. I’m stubborn and refusing. Refusing to turn my head. Refusing what lies ahead, I suppose. Like a little kid who’s stubborn and refusing to take medicine. Mouth shut tight. The head jerks left, then right.

That’s how I engage with fall.

But winter to me is fresh. It’s snowed in and pulling on a heavy blanket. It’s sloppy clothes and old movies. It’s night-time, and it’s dark, and it’s sledding down a hill with nothing but worn-out bell-bottom jeans and a floppy piece of card-board between your butt and that cold frozen ground.

It’s necessary.