Lessons from the birds and the streams and the forest

I had an up close interaction with a Brown-headed Nuthatch today that left me with a sense of awe and recalibrated my perspective.

I went for a hike this morning at a preserve in the suburbs.  The day was absolutely gorgeous, sunny and in the 60s with just a light breeze.  I started at a lesser used trailhead and didn't even encounter another hiker until I had been walking for about 30 minutes.  When I got close to the popular waterfall and trailhead section, I just passed on by without stopping and found quiet once again as I reached the other extreme end of the park.  

It was in one of these quieter parts of the park with the trail to myself that I came across this little nuthatch.  He foraged for food in a dead tree not more than about five feet from where I stood.  He was completely uninterested in or perhaps oblivious to my presence.

What surprised me the most was how tiny this bird was.  I suppose when I observe them from a distance with my long lens, my sense of scale is off.  But up close its tiny size couldn't be mistaken.  To think such a small bird sings a tune that can be heard through the forest!  I often listen for its unique squeaky exclamations when I hike or explore botanical gardens.  Now I will be able to imagine its tiny size among the towering trees.

I spent almost four hours in the park.  I hiked over five miles among rocks and roots, crossing back and forth across the stream, testing my balance on rocks to avoid getting wet each time I crossed.  I discovered waterfalls I hadn't visited before and trails I had never taken.  

I left my camera behind on this hike and I didn't take many photos or videos with my phone like I so often do.  I wanted to be present.  I spent a lot of time listening to the birds and trying to identify them by their songs and chatter.  I sat down and even laid down on large flat rocks, sometimes in the middle of the stream to more deeply connect myself to this Earth.

I found myself recording voice notes of my thoughts with the sounds of the birds and water in the background.  I had never done that before but I am enjoying playing them back and hope they will be an inspiration for some poetry.

And about 2.5 hours into the hike, a thought crossed my mind that made me stop in my tracks.  A move to LA would mean giving up spaces like this.  Any neighborhood I was looking at was a long ways from some real green space.  Any attempts to connect with nature would be difficult without hours of time getting out of the city.  And maybe that is the most important reason why I probably won't apply for that job.  

I felt lighter after that realization.  All my other pros and cons that have been running through my head this past week hadn't hit at any core of who I am so weren't particularly persuasive either way.  This need to connect with nature is essential to my being.

So although my legs may be sore and I'm still trying to rehydrate from the hike, this immersion into the noisy quiet of the forests and the streams was exactly what I needed.  I think the birds help me drown out all the distractions and listen to the depths of my inner self.  And they remind me that the most important moment is always the present one.