November 7, 2024
Yesterday, in a state of post-election grief, I went to the woods to find comfort, solace, and healing—as well as pictures! It’s my happy place, a place of refuge in both good times and bad.
But yesterday it wasn’t just any woods, it was the Kensington woods in Milford, Michigan, where the songbirds are acclimated to people and expectantly perch in the trees along the trail hoping you will extend your arm and present them with a handful of birdseed. I knew the assignment and had come prepared. My pockets were bulging with sunflower seeds, raw peanuts, and dried mealworms—plus a red Tootsie Pop from one of the grandkids in case I got hungry. The tootsie pop, however, was not in the same pocket as the bird food!
Every time I stopped to take a picture, the songbirds would start flitting nearby expecting to be fed. At one of those stops, a chickadee landed on the far end of my telephoto lens and stared back at me waiting for his handout! (Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a picture!)
It was impossible for me to resist and I always reached into my pocket for more seeds. In order to get a picture or a video of the birds in my hand, though, I had to sling my ‘real’ camera, with its long 600mm lens and attached monopod over my shoulder, and pull out my cell phone. While I stood there with one hand outstretched with seed and the other trying to take a picture, I felt the occasional bounce of a little chickadee or a tufted titmouse landing on my monopod that was extended behind me like some sort of backwards fishing pole. I had to smile, knowing they were there waiting for me to feed them and trusting that I wouldn’t cause any harm.
As I stood there feeding the ‘littles’ (chickadees, titmice, and nuthatches), two very tall sandhill cranes came sauntering down the trail in my direction. They were in no apparent hurry, and probably knew that I wasn’t either. I expect they knew that a handout was a possibility, just like it was for the ‘littles’. It’s not particularly advisable to feed them, however, or the chipmunks for that matter. They can get a little too pushy if you don’t hand over the goods! For better or worse, virtually all the critters at Kensington know that humans come bearing gifts.
The trail I was on at Kensington skirts a small lake called Wildwing. In the middle of that small lake were hundreds of migrating birds swimming about. They were not very close to shore and it was nearly impossible to get a decent picture, but with my 600mm lens, I was able to see American Wigeons, Ring-necked ducks, Red Heads, Buffleheads, Gadwalls, and a large contingent of mallards. It was a birding bonanza!
Along that very same trail, I was surprised to find a large flock of Rusty Blackbirds busily surveying the open ground for food and I quickly pointed my camera in their direction. It’s amazing how beautiful their feathers are when you can see them up close. Rusty Blackbirds get their name from the rusty coloration at the edge of their feather edges that shows up during the winter months.
The trail around Kensington’s Wildwing Lake is 1.75 miles long and, without the need to obsessively take pictures like I do, the average person could walk it in 40 minutes or less; maybe a little more if they stopped to feed the birds several times. I spent five blissful hours!
For me, a walk in the woods is therapeutic. Taking pictures is therapeutic. Both are wonderful antidotes to the fear and anxiety that has consumed so many of us over the last several years. The walks in the woods and the picture-taking got me through COVID and hopefully they will get me through the next four years!
