“Attention is an act of resistance. The attention I give to my creativity is an act of resistance to a hurried culture.” -Rebecca Solnit

Hey Friends,

Our last catch up was a bit heavy with talk of the wildfires burning across our region. While the grief I feel is still very much raw and real, I’ve managed to find time to explore, connect, and be creative in ways that help me feel a little more hopeful and better able to show up to continue fighting the good fight, so to speak. While attacks on our public lands and wild neighbors continue to come at us left and right, I am constantly reminded that doing what we can locally- even simply taking time to tend to our own relationship with the more than human world- is the best way to create impactful and lasting positive change on both small and big scales.

In the last newsletter I talked about sit spots and how such a simple practice can lead to profound connection. (you can read the previous issue here)

So in an effort to take my own advice, we drove up to the northern coast to do a sit spot in a place with less smoke and more shorebirds. We spent hours loafing among the Sitka spruce at the edge of the bay watching a parade of birds get up to their daily activities, quieting our minds and filling our hearts with the small dramas playing out all around us. We even got to eat some of the early-ripened Mountain Huckleberries that grew in thick stands between the spruce trees.

As the day went on we saw an Elegant Tern, juvenile and adult Caspian Terns, as well as a Common Tern, which I believe are the smallest of all the Terns found here. Terns are so very neat with their pointed wings, black caps, and bright orange bills. They stand out against the large flocks of gulls they often associate with.

While wandering the shoreline we watched flocks of Semi-palmated Plovers, Black Plovers, and little Least Sandpipers scouring the sand for food, the latter of which were hardly bigger than a songbird.

Dozens of Brown Pelicans slept, sunned their massive outstretched wings, and occasionally dove for fish. If any bird seems to defy the laws of physics entirely, it’s pelicans. Their giant heads and wobbly flight as they take off from the sand is a wonder to witness.

Out in the distance a Black Turnstone paused to preen itself and Bald Eagles (spoiler alert: the next painting on deck) perched high in the trees snacking on their fresh fish lunches.

I even had a little time to mess around with some plein air painting, a hobby I always want to make more time for, and of course Charlie stepped directly on my palette during the one moment he was left unsupervised. He walked around for the rest of the day with blue and yellow legs (the picture doesn’t do the damage justice). At 17 years old he can no longer zoom across the beach the way his younger self loved to do, but he still always seems to enjoy being there even when we just sit down and take it all in.