Great-Horned Owls--and Others--in the 'Burbs

I thought it was thrilling on Monday night to hear, through an open window, a Great-Horned Owl somewhere near our house as I got into bed.  Imagine my excitement last night, when, sitting in the family room working at the computer, I heard, through windows closed against the 28 degree F chill, not one, but two owls hooting their hoarse calls over one another.  I opened a kitchen window and stood giggling with delight every time they repeated their calls for over fifteen minutes.

It's not the first time I've heard a Great-Horned Owl.  That was several years ago.  I awoke from a deep sleep in my parents condo guest room in Pittsfield, MA, in the Berkshire mountains.  We were there on one of our summer visits.  I lay in bed, wide-eyed, straining to hear every note.  Yet, one expects to hear wild creatures of the night in the mountains.  Here in the suburbs, the presence of wildness is less predictable, more of surprising when it occurs.

Over the last several years, the number of species--both avian and mammal--frequenting our suburban Detroit neighborhood has grown.  If you've never been to this area, you may not realize that there is little organic about its layout.  Major streets, for the most part, go North-South or East-West, spaced one mile apart.  Mostly flat, the edges of the mile-squares they create are trimmed with commercial spaces, professional offices, and other non-residential structures, while the insides of each mile are filled with private housing--subdivisions the locals call them.  Lower and moderately-priced housing is typical of most American suburbs.  The lots are one quarter- to one third-acre.  The houses range from 1000-3000 square feet, including basements.  The older subdivisions tend to have more, and more mature, trees than the newer ones.  We live in a square mile that was developed in the early 1960s.

Then there are tracts of land, somewhat hillier and more woodsy, where wealthier folks dwell.  Their properties and houses are less regular, more amply apportioned and separated from their neighbors by patches of woods that were not disturbed when their houses were built.  And many of these property-owners, lately, have been selling parts of their lots for use by people who want to build a new house, or developing part of their own land to sell off.  My theory is that, as the habitats birds and mammals have lived in for decades are cut up, cleared out, and built on, they are moving, however reluctantly, to nearby subdivisions that have settled down since the last time they traversed these lands.  Brush that didn't exist before has established itself.  Trees that were newly planted saplings in the early '60s, when these lands were developed, tower, fully grown now.  So the kind of subdivision where I live is the next best thing to where they have been hanging out for the last several decades.  The birds have it easy.  They can fly across automobile-laden roads.  If those on foot make it across two to four lanes of two-way, 40-45 MPH traffic, they add to the growing impression I have that we are living in a mini-wildlife preserve.

During the spring migration last May, I was so impressed by the number of new species I saw on my property that I made a list of all the birds and mammals I had seen in this vicinity--within a mile or two of my house, on my property, or in the skies over my property.  By the end of the summer, I had listed over 50 species of birds (several nesting here), four species of squirrels, and several other mammals, including fox and coyote.  I suppose, after all, this is their land, and we are mere tenants.  When their digs are flooded with and destroyed by development, they retreat to "higher" ground. (I flatter myself!)  And with the exception of the woodchucks who feasted on my cucumber, nasturtium, and carrot leaves last summer, I welcome them with pleasure.

Little Things 2: The plainest day

Overcast.  Intermittent rain.  I missed my window to go outside and harvest the last of my herbs. The light is already dimming.

My son reads his homework on the futon.  The dishes are all washed.  Julia arrives home with a treat in her bag for all of us:  pre-season (packaged) egg nog--organic, naturally, because if you're going to splurge, you want the cleanest, the purest, sweets.  My son smacks his lips with wide eyes.

In just a few minutes, we will meet with another possible caterer for our son's bar mitzvah in February.  This is the third option we've explored.  It's not easy having a bar mitzvah while one of us is unemployed and the other is underemployed.

Nothing is easy.  Yet everything is good when I pay attention.  Everything is just fine.  We have nothing to complain about.  Oh, yes, aches and pains here and there.  Nothing serious.

Just a great deal to be grateful for, even on a cloudy day with winter on its way.

Joan Baez Sparkles at the Michigan Theater

I was blessed to attend a concert given by Joan Baez at the Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor tonight.  Wow!  Her violin-like voice has matured into a rich, earthy cello.  She makes alterations to melodies to accommodate changes in her vocal ability, and never has she sounded so musical.  There is a mellowness to her performance, yet her energy is strong and keen.  I enjoyed thoroughly her channeling of Bob Dylan in the last several lines of  "Don't Think Twice It's All Right."  Her "Suzanne" was haunting.  She sang a song I did not recognize in support of Occupy Wall Street "and everywhere else," as she put it.  It charged us to think of the common people, the lowly of birth, the working people.  (If anyone knows which song I'm referring to, please leave a comment.)  Her rendition of "Jerusalem" moved me to tears.  I, too, long for the day when "the children of Abraham will put down their swords" and live in peace.

I was struck by Joan's repeated compliments to the audience.  The first comment went something like, "You are  great audience.  Some nights I really have to work. Other nights I get to play.  Tonight I get to play."  Apparently, she doesn't always get an audience that has been appreciating her for over 50 years.  The house was filled to the brim with folks who were probably teenagers anytime between 1960 and 1975.  (My!  Do I look that old?)

At nearly 71 (her birthday is in January), Joan appears healthy, sparkling brightly from the stage, and glowing with inner, as well as outer beauty.  It was a privilege to be in her audience.  She is one of the great singer-songwriter-activists of our generation!

Here are some websites about Joan Baez for those who'd like to learn more.  You can find lots of her music on YouTube.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_Baez
http://www.joanbaez.com/officialbio08.html (The photo above appears at this web location. I borrowed it and would gladly credit the photographer if I knew who took it.)