Chasing down the predator

I followed a furious blast of robin-noise this morning, and caught sight of three robins chasing a sparrow hawk. The hawk silently darted on arrow-wings around the corner of the house and swiftly was out of sight, the robins following behind. Chicks are fledging now, and will soon be making their first forays out of the nest. These babies are vulnerable. The parents know it, and so do the predators. Hence, the angry, noisy parents.

Then I got to thinking; three robins? Robins nest in pairs, and are territorial. What bird was the third? Sure enough, I googled it, and I found out that robin parents will collaborate to chase a predator out of territory. Makes perfect sense to me.

I noted also that predators, though noisy at other times, (the sweet whistle of the sparrow hawk and the raucous calls of the magpie come to mind) are deadly silent when on the hunt.

The lessons for us in all this? Feel free to call on your neighbour to repel a common threat. Watch out when predators go quiet.

Birdwatching

In the absence of a full-blown holiday, I must take my breaks where I can. I had a few moments on my deck today, watching the birds. The song birds were silent as the crows, magpies, and one unidentified grey-back among with the 'pies were busy furrowing out insects and grubs from the lawn. The crow up in his tree was the bird equivalent of deep-throat. His call is so deep and out of the ordinary, I do hope he either grows out of his juvenile awkwardness, or his flock accepts him anyways.

Back to the grey-back, I looked him up. He's a Northern Flicker. I've seen flocks of him before around this time; migrating is my guess. The field guide confirmed he is the only woodpecker that feeds from the ground.

While I was digging around, I found all the bird calls I've wondered about this summer, but failed to glimpse. I have confirmed my childhood memories. I hear mom's voice, "That's a Chipping Sparrow" and, delighted, "A Vireo!". The Chipping Sparrow, my mother would say, you would hear on the hottest days. The hotter the day, the faster the sparrow would buzz. This summer I could pinpoint the tree the fella was singing his territory song, but I could never get a clear look at him. Next summer I will take a look for a spot of red on his head.

The Vireo has a singsong call, distinctive and beautiful. My daughter would be pleased to know that it thrives where trees are not sprayed for pesticide. It lives off the bugs in the trees. We haven't sprayed the trees in our townhome complex for many years.

You can hear the calls of all three birds at the links I provided.

Birds are like people, too

I learn a lot from watching birds. When I was a child, I was taught to recognize the call and the flash of wing from my "Field Guide to Western Birds". The exercise taught me a new way of looking. As a result a trip through a field, forest path, or city street is rich with activity that many others miss.

I have vivid memories of bird dramas through the years. Like the morning a pack of summer birds caught an owl far from her roosting spot. They harrassed her down the street from tree to tree as if she were a hoodlum caught in the act. It was if the whole bird community conspired to squawk their disdain. First in line to harrass the poor owl were the crows, cautiously followed by the magpies. Next were the blue jays, robins, and far in the rear, the sparrows jeered.

Not too close, though. A sparrow has to be careful.

Now, closer to home, I have a chance to get to know my bird neighbours in their daily habits. The crows and the magpies, as annoying as they can be during the day with their raucus calls, are quiet while on the hunt. I've decided the endless calls in the morning are their hungry young. I suspect the crow and magpie parents do their chief hunting in the morning, quietly, snatching the young of their weaker neighbours, to feed their own.

Hunger is a hard taskmaster.

Chickadees, those tiny balls of fluff at the bottom of the food chain, never fail to inspire me. Their cheerful call can be heard through the dead of winter. They are survivors, they are flexible communicators, and they are optimists. Urban legend taught me that chickadees congregate in the winter night in the hollow of a tree for warmth, allowing their body temperature to drop near freezing, then erupting in a mass shiver. I've found out since that this may not be true. One article insists that chickadees are loners. These tiny bundles rather each find their own cranny to wedge themselves in for the night. From a bird feeder they will take away seeds to hide in their own hidden cache. For all their resourcefulness, a hard winter will take casualties. It makes me pause on a hard winter day as I gaze out my double glazed window.

I've also learned another hard fact about small birds...and bees, for that matter. The smaller you are, the higher your metabolic rate. Chickadees, hummingbirds, and bees must be on a constant search for food to keep their little engines running. As a consequence also, all three are highly territorial.

Hunger is a hard taskmaster.

So what does this all have to do with people? Well, people aren't all alike, either. Their habits and choices cannot be explained away in a short, brute list of motivations. My observations as a child that distinguished, say, mother from woman, matured as I got older, and is fine tuned even further as I watch people in place. What pushes people; what pushes me to react one way or another is not always simple. Understanding these nuances can keep me from making brute assumptions, and perhaps I can choose new ways to respond to new situations.

Pearl Grey

I found out a girlfriend is facing a very tough road. It's not path I would wish on anyone. For now we have each other at least, for a little comfort and commiseration. I mentioned my new theory about life, that it is meant to have dark and bright moments; that's the beauty of it. As an artist, I've learned that the brights are brighter because we have the shadows to highlight how beautiful the good bits can be.

My girlfriend laughed and reminded me that God might be listening. He might just help us get our wish. I quickly wished rather for the beauty of "pearl grey" in her life. She agreed, saying that one of her goals is to face her situation with "equanimity". What a fine word.

The beauty of monochrome brought to mind an image I saw out the greyhound window as hubby and I travelled back from Calgary. It was twilight, and the dimming light shaded the snowy fields with the same blue as the sky. I watched this deep blue form from ground to horizon, all the same, except for a faint line of shadow of trees. Beautiful. This picture is the closest that google granted me.

I am borrowing the picture from myspace.com/cynthiacv

Just today I got an excited call from my granddaughter and daughter about a sighting of an impressive grey bird that flocked in to our neighbourhood. While I was slaving away at work, they were taking a much-needed break at home. My daughter described a large flock of birds, brown, with bits of yellow and their heads tipped with red. "They have a nice call too, mom." I answered reflexively, "Cedar Waxwings. They come here for the Mountain Ash berries." There are very few birds who stay behind for the winter, and fewer still who travel in large flocks. I would say the birds are more a beautiful washed grey than a brown. They are another example of the beauty of monochrome.

http://blog.earth-touch.com/index.php/archive/tags/forest

Cedar Waxwings congregate to tough out our winters together. Chicadees, too, stay our winter in little flocks, calling out in their ever cheerful way where food might be found.

You can listen to the Cedar Waxwing's call here, and one of the Chicadee's calls here. As an aside, Chicadees have some of the most sophisticated calls in the natural world.

You might wonder why a bird would choose to stay for our winters instead of migrating south like so many others. For one thing, they have fewer predators to worry about. They also don't have to expend a great amount of energy on the trip. Instead, they focus on getting through the winter together, hunting out the best places to visit for their energy needs. It seems to me that a bird choosing to tough it out here would also by necessity be a community. And be as cheerful as it could be under the circumstances.

We need each other to cheer ourselves up, to keep going, to make it through. I had another incident today that made me wonder if our cruel weather is responsible for making Canadians so polite. I'll talk about that next.

My feeding station is not just for the birds

I have a new visitor to our bird-feeder. In other circumstances, I might even think he is cute and cuddly. He has a thick coat, brindle-striped in greys and browns. And he's made a beeline path in the snow to a little nest right under the bird-feeder. His only redeeming quality is that he scoots when I say scat. Guilty conscience, I would say.

Our famous Canadian cold is finally scheduled to arrive, so made sure the feeder is full.

I wonder if a few strategically placed moth-balls might convince him to nest somewhere else. Where does one buy moth-balls these days?

Sparrows have worries too

Watching the sparrows out my window, I learn something of a sparrow's worries. I've given them a gift, a steady supply of seed to help them through the winter. But they approach the feeder cautiously. Over the past month, they have quietly made their way to the feeder, and quietly left. They don't approach it directly, either. First, they land in the upper branches of my cedar, then in the cool, green dark, they hop ever closer to the goal. Even as they eat they are cautious, taking a quick look around before they crack a seed.

Why such caution? Because others are watching as well. We now have cat-visitors to my yard. More than once I've caught a strange cat sitting in our basement wheel well, intent on that feeder, so temptingly close above.

"What is the price of five sparrows? A couple pennies? Yet God does not forget a single one of them". - Luke 12:6.

I am sure God is not tracking them with the same intensity as a cat. And with another motive altogether. Why does God care about the sparrow?

Note also, the sparrow does not throw caution to the wind, even if God is watching.

It just makes the world a little less cruel...

The chicadees were waiting for me this morning. They were close enough for me to see their plump grey forms hopping up the bush. It pays to be reliable, especially when little creatures are depending on you.

I got a follow-up e-mail from someone else interested in Homeless Connect, and she twigged me to a YouTube clip on the San Franciso campaign. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1-K0-GC7jM It looks as wonderful as it sounds. The line that really stood out for me on the video was from a volunteer who said, "It just makes the world a little less cruel." Another volunteer noted that these are the same people we pass on the street every day without acknowledging, yet in the connect atmosphere they are "just like everyone else." Isn't that what it is all about, to bring humanity in to every interaction?

On a separate note, I just finished another delightful novel from Alexander McCall Smith. He's the only author whose books I can't wait to come to paperback. I'm beginning to collect an impressive series of hard bound books about the "No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency", set in Botswana. But this man does a lot more than write delightful detective novels. He is also an expert in the field of bioethics, serving on many national and international bodies. A BBC biography writes of McCall Smith, "If his day job presents its own philosophical complexities and dilemmas, McCall Smith's writing offers an escape to a place that celebrates moral certainty, warmth and compassion. The author considers it "legitimate to write about virtue" and The Detective Agency series, in particular, shows "qualities that are found all over Botswana. People don't go in for distance and insincerity"."

Legitimate to write about virtue. What a delightful turn of phrase. Is it not also legitimate to campaign for virtue and decency, even in a jaded world?

___________________

Update from Elise, on Facebook: "Anyways, I heard really good things from my co-workers about that event (Homeless Connect). They all thought it was very successful. The event expected 1000 people but over 1500 showed up! "

An in-line experience

I thought I'd start with some of my own experiences to show what I mean about dehumanizing intake. Perhaps this incident hit home so hard because it was a pharmacy. Though my days may be over for applying for social assistance and helping my children and mentally ill relatives, there will be many, many pharmacy counters in my future. It's mundane, it's routine, and everyone lives through it.

This incident happened several years ago at a Superstore pharmacy, about the same time they came out with that two-station system; receiving and shipping. I started out poorly. I went to the wrong counter. When I got to the the receiving end the clerk helpfully advised that it would be a half-hour wait to pick up my order. I thought, fine, I am in a store, I will do my shopping and come back in thirty minutes. This surely would be a plus, as I don't have to stand around waiting for my order.

When I came back thirty minutes later, there was a line of frustrated customers. After watching the line for a few minutes, I understood why. None of the orders were ready. The pharmacy, besides putting in the entry and exit stations, had instituted a new system. Each order had it's own little basket. So far so good. Those baskets could be in any of a dozen locations. Very, very, bad.

As the clerk received each person in line, she bustled around in the back, checking each of the dozen locations in turn. It was worst for the woman directly in front of me. The clerk came back to the woman in front of me a couple times and told me she could not find the order. Finally she told the woman they were out of stock of the particular medication and she would have to come back.

After seeing what happened to that poor woman, I decided to take a stand. I had my turn with the counter clerk and told her I was cancelling my order, could I please have my prescription back. Her eyes went wide and she disappeared in the back .... for twenty minutes.

She came back with my order. The pharmacist, on hearing my request to cancel, rushed my order instead. They were nearly out of stock of my medication, so they only filled the prescription partially. I would have to come back for the rest.

I was angry. Not only was I required to wait much longer than promised, but my specific request to cancel the order was ignored. I assumed they preferred the days' profit over a small embarrassment. I left and never returned. They can keep the partial order on file forever for all I care.

What were some of the mistakes in this encounter, and how could the pharmacy have improved them? I've ordered the pharmacy errors from most important to least important.

• There was no respect for the customer by the pharmacist. My specific request was bypassed for the sake of interests (profit) that were not my own. I never got to see the pharmacist face-to-face to tell him so myself. He never found out that he permanently lost a regular customer because of his neglect. His vision was appallingly short-sighted. In his interest on not losing a single sale, he permanently lost a customer.
• The counter clerk was neither empowered to make changes or properly oriented to the new system. She was confused, rushed, and utterly intimidated.
• The process sucked. The two counter system is appropriately efficient, and the individual baskets work well. However, there were too many stations where the orders could stack up. There should have been only three. Receiving, filling, and completed. Maybe four. There always seems to be a stack of orders that are picked up days later.
• The intake clerk really did not know how long orders would take. She gave the same answer to all, "thirty minutes". This may be petty, but I hate being misinformed.
• There was no accommodation for newbies. Could they have taken my order at the shipping counter and advised me "for next time"? Perhaps not, but I thought I would mention it. As small as the incident seems, a petitioner is always in the vulnerable position. Don't make us feel any more stupid than we already feel.

Well, that's that. Wouldn't it be great if we had "mystery shopper" questionnaires and customer service cards at places like this? Those of us who speak up would have a place to protest. Rather than resort to sharing our experience by word of mouth and blog.

My list for the holidays. The white-tail deer don't count as birds, but it was pretty cool to see them in the Kootenays and Montana. On the trip I saw the following birds to add to my lifetime list:

• Starlings
• Canada Geese
• Mallards
• Red-Tailed Hawks

All but the hawks are all flocking to fly south for the fall. The hawks waited patiently on fence-posts for unwary gophers. I won't count the terns and gulls yet because I'm not sure which ones I saw.

Being Heard - Listening

Blogs are great for preaching...but is anyone listening? I yearn to have genuine, heart to heart connections with people. To be heard, and to listen. This feeling can't be unique. Why don't we all do it? I suspect fear of exposure is part of it. To be really understood means also exposing the ugly bits. Most people hide the ugly bits.

I've started making lists again. Calories, water intake, exercise. 5555 steps. 2638 calories. BP 111/76 (not bad!) Waist 46 (very bad).

I saw a nuthatch scrabbling down the bark of our tree. Upside down, of course. Now I can add him to my (new) lifetime list. Here are all the birds I have spotted or heard around the house.

http://www.treknature.com/gallery/North_America/United_States/photo51956.htm

Gulls
Sparrows
Magpies
Ravens
Cedar Waxwings
Chickadee
Nuthatch