CLEVELAND METROPARKS

I have a sixteen year old daughter.  She is charming and funny and infuriating and sweet and diabolical and kind – often all at the same time.  I spend a lot of time thinking about her.  I think about how to relate to her.  I think about how to protect her.  I think about how to teach her.  It’s relatively easy to think about things I can do to help her grow into her best self.  What’s infinitely harder, is contemplating giving her space to make mistakes and learn from them on her own.  Stepping back and letting her succeed or fail without any intervention from me is agonizing.

Today, Chuck and I found a tiny fawn curled up in the grass.  Its mother was nowhere to be seen.  It looked so vulnerable there, alone.  But I know the mother was not far away.  I know she left her baby so it could grow stronger without the threat of predators that might be drawn to her scent.  I know she will come back to it.  It is not abandoned.  It is following the natural course of things.

I realized, if the doe can leave her weak little fawn for its own good, I can do the same for Grace.  I can give her time and space to get her feet under her.  It’s funny that something so instinctual for an animal mom is so difficult for a human one.  I’ll have to work harder at being a doe.

Click on any image below to launch the gallery and view all images full size.

Every spring, it seems like the woods are bare and brown one day and lush and green the next. But, in fact, the transformation is a slow evolution. If you’re in the woods every day, you see the barely perceptible green haze that shows up before the last frost. You see tiny buds appear and you watch them gradually unfold into leaves. You see slender green stalks sprout radiant spring flowers.

I was thinking, today, about how this annual change in the natural world is a reminder of the change that happens in all of us. Sometimes, it is sudden and shocking. But most often, it is so slow as to be almost imperceptible. I think we are all changing all the time. I am realizing that, if we don’t make deliberate, small choices to change in the ways we want, we give the reigns to chance. And, over months and years, we might slowly transform into someone we never wanted to be.

It sometimes seems daunting to think about changing oneself. Losing 20lbs might seem impossible. Running a marathon might seem out of reach. Learning a new language might seem undoable. But, if you focus, not on the big challenge, but on the tiny daily choices easily within reach, over time, you will make progress towards that distant goal. And one day, you will wake up and realize that it’s just within reach.

Click on any image below to launch the gallery and view all images full size.

Chuck and I hit the trail in the Rocky River Reservation around 7:30 am.  It was 55 degrees, the sky was perfectly blue.  The morning light was golden.  I headed for a marsh where I had seen wood ducks and a green heron just a day or two ago.  We started off at a quick clip so Chuck could stretch her legs, but we slowed our pace when we reached the marsh. We saw mama wood ducks with their fluffy fledgelings, but the light was behind them, so I couldn’t get a good shot.  They would have been just silhouettes against the bright morning light.

We walked to the far end of the water where the trail turns and the sun was behind me.  We watched the Canada geese honk and beat their wings.  We saw tree swallows popping in and out of a birdhouse feeding their young.  I was trying to just enjoy the morning, but I was impatient for a good photo.  Suddenly a muskrat ventured out of his nest and sat near us at the water’s edge.  I had been hoping to get a shot of a muskrat out of the water and I excitedly snapped a few shots before he heard us and slipped into the water.  The pics were no good.  They were out of focus.  Grrrr!

Chuck and I wandered back around the edge of the water.  I decided to put the camera aside for a minute and just appreciate the light dancing on the water, the symphony of bird calls, the “good mornings” of fellow early walkers passing by.  I found a spot where where the light on the water was beautiful and I had a clear view.  I stood still and just waited.  Before long, the wood duck and her brood swam near enough for me to see the fuzz on the ducklings backs.  I grabbed a few good snaps.

They drifted away and I saw a ripple on the water.  As I watched, a muskrat emerged and began tugging at a blade of grass.  Chuck and I watched him intently as he puttered around in the water and then emerged getting closer and closer. I crouched next to Chuck and got a couple decent photos.  The little guy kept moving ever nearer.  Finally, I gave up taking pictures and just held on to Chuck’s harness.  We both watched in wonder as the muskrat came out of the water and walked within two feet of us.  He grabbed a bunch of green leaves and moved, unhurriedly, back into the water.  It was kind of magical.

I realized that, as much as I love to get a great photo, I love my hikes and my time with my dog even more.  I don’t want to be frustrated or disappointed if I don’t get a great shot.  It’s not a contest.  I win just by getting up each morning and getting out there.  I guess life is much the same.  If you push too hard and pit yourself against some imagined idea of perfection, you will tie yourself in knots and your results won’t be the best they can be. On the other hand, if you just focus on enjoying what you are doing, you will get more joy out of life and your performance will probably be the better for it.

Click on any image below to launch the gallery and view all images full size.