Lift-Off

Fully committed to moving on, this Common Yellowthroat is taking off! Light on his feet and fully outstretched, he's leaving nothing on the table.

Common Yellowthroat - Copyright 2025 JeanMaher.com

I love the photo of this songbird fully outstretched. I had no idea his legs were that long. If he was bigger, maybe he'd be a wading bird?

Speaking of letting go, I feel ready to let go of a habit of mine: needing to fill the air with chatter, when silence or a single word will do. I'm not very comfortable with what seems like unending silence stretching out in space in a conversation. Even when it looks like I am quiet, my mind is usually carrying on with a whole bunch of things, pushing me to fill the space with extraneous words that just don't need to be said. Kind of annoying. I'm now much more aware that I do it, which is progress.

I know that it's common to have a busy mind and not so common to be still. To me, a pause in a conversation feels like an eternity, especially when I think I need to respond right NOW. Closely related, is how I interrupt, jumping ahead and assuming where the conversation is going. I don't do it all the time, but enough that it makes me uncomfortable to admit it to myself.

It really isn't hard to stop speaking needlessly, but it certainly is a habit that I fully embraced for a long time, fearing I better have an answer immediately, or else (as if it would appear that I wasn't paying attention to the conversation I was having with someone)!

It just takes practice.

There's freedom to be gained in just letting conversations naturally flow. I recently read that words are like spells and should be used wisely, further incentive to use words carefully!

I like that I can leave behind those extra words that don't need to be said, like that bird is leaving behind whatever is on the branch. I can take a breath and pause, land listen. I'll take those extra few moments to think about what I want to say, and most importantly whether anything really needs to be said.

I'm just going for it, like the warbler in the photo.

Decisions, decisions!

Seeing Double - Copyright 2025 JeanMaher.com

The Sandhill Cranes are scanning their environment and staying close together. They sense that someone is watching, even though I slowly stopped and turned off the car and carefully opened the window. I extended the lens of my camera only slightly beyond the edge of the door, careful to move slowly. The pair paced along just beneath the crest of a hill, the grass an amazing shade of green.

These Sandhill Cranes made this patch of prairie their home this spring and summer. There are plenty of hills to hide behind and space to be alone.

New Life after the Burn - Copyright 2025 JeanMaher.com

Looking at the prairie now, it's hard to believe the prairie was burned to the ground just a few short months ago. It was a prescribed burn and is a good thing; it rejuvenates the land by clearing away straw and other dried materials from last fall that make it challenging for the plants. Prairie plants have very deep roots, well protected from fire. To look at the prairie now, the grasses and greenery are well over knee high.

I had trouble focusing my lens on their golden eyes, necessary for the best photo. Each photo I took was out of focus. Ugh.

Something was off. I tried focusing a little less tightly to their eyes, instead, focusing more on the grass in front of them. Got it! Suddenly the details of the cranes popped right out of the background. Perfect.

I'm still learning about this camera, and I'm not exactly sure how that worked. It helped that I kept experimenting while they hung out, not moving too far away. Perhaps they had their young (colts) nearby? I had seen them together a month ago.

Sandhill Crane and Colts - Copyright 2025 JeanMaher.com

I had a passing thought - the photo reminded me of watching a puppet show and hearing "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" song in my head. You know, you often don't see the entire puppet from head to toe.

They weren't alarmed by me, but looked left and right, swiveling their head with those beautiful golden eyes, back and forth, back and forth, before moving slowly along just below the grassy ridge line.

When I looked at this photo later, to brought something else to mind - how I make (or don't make) a decision. I find there are always options from which to choose. What if I choose wrong? I hate packing for a trip because of the options. I delay doing so until the very last minute, usually sacrificing some sleep in the process. And there's the weather to consider, what I'll be doing, how long I'll be gone. Whew. Or, closer to home, do I have coffee or tea in the morning? When going out for a hike, do I go to a familiar area or a new place? Does anyone else have any advice for me? Overthinking? Me? Yes - quite tiring, actually!

I'm learning to ask myself, does anyone really care what I decide? Of course not. Not really. They are not me. The more I make decisions for myself - that are right for me - I gain a little more confidence. I also remind myself that it is all practice. All of what I do. Treated that way, it takes the pressure off. Especially if I find out later, I might have made a better choice. What's that saying from Thomas Edison? "I've not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that it won't work." I'm no Thomas Edison, but there is always another opportunity for me to practice making decisions. Keep moving forward and see that when I'm in the flow, decisions DO come easier. :)

Go for It

Chipmunk - Copyright 2025 JeanMaher.com

I captured a chipmunk in action one day. She had her eye on a bird feeder near my garden and was very determined to reach it. She took a moment and jumped, grabbing the base of the feeder and swinging up onto the tray. She sat there, stuffing seeds into her cheeks as fast as she could.

Chowing Down - Copyright 2025 JeanMaher.com

The feeder is drained every day - it's a popular place. At any moment, the chipmunk could be dethroned from her perch by larger creatures hungry for a quick easy snack of seeds. On the larger size are deer, gray squirrels, black squirrels, turkeys, crows. Diminutive songbirds like this fly-up feeder, among them: indigo buntings, goldfinches, sapsuckers, blue jays, and house finches.

On alert - Copyright 2025 JeanMaher.com

As I thought about her making that leap onto the feeder, she had to commit. She had to let go of that pole and focus on that feeder tray - on what she wanted: a prepared meal.

Her actions remind me I am no different. If I focus on what I honestly want, experience is teaching me that things open up. Usually not in the way my logical mind has imagined it to happen, but if I trust what appears and follow the thread, things work out.

It's taken me a bit to move this along. Is it really OK to do what I want? Old beliefs are sticky.

Answering 'what do I want?' is my challenge. Today I want to 'get out there' in the world; to shrug off my tendency to hole up. I want to further my writing and photography, complete the next book while I share the book I published. I want to be my best self every day. I've believed for so long that it is a selfish thing - to do what I want. But I'm growing up a little and am letting that sink in. I can be a better person if I follow what comes naturally to me.

It's the idea of flow. I lose track of time when immersing myself in a walk, curating my photos, editing presentations for others, sharing my enthusiasm for Nature with kids and adults alike. It's fun and meaningful for me. And I'm a better person because of it for me, and hopefully, if I stay out of the way, I can be better for others, too.

Back to the chipmunk -- this little one was brave enough to make a grab for the feeder. I know she was keeping an eye on me, but she stayed with herself to take the opportunity that appeared.

I see you! Copyright 2025 JeanMaher.com

She looked at me and held her spot. She apparently did not see me as a threat as I held my spot.

I find it intriguing how Nature in all its forms keeps me in the present and out of my head, if only for a minute. I'm grateful for this small creature sharing this moment with me.