There are a few bird watching spots that I have enjoyed revisiting over the years. They give me comfort, like an old friend with whom you connect so solidly that there's no need for re-establishing your relationship, you simply pick up right where you left off. There are a handful of places near our home here in southeastern Ohio where I find myself returning, seeking birds. But the feeling of being at home with the universe, the cosmos, life in general, or just with myself is still present at these places, even when the birds seem to be elsewhere. These are my soul spots.
And so it was on my recent trip to one of my soul spots at The Wilds. Not many birds, and those that were there were uncooperative subjects for digiscoping. Still, it felt great to be there. Smelling the ozone on the wind. Hearing the tinkling songs of the distant horned larks. Watching the sun retreat into its home beyond the western horizon.
I found myself staring at this solitary tree off to the north, making its way in the world, despite the long odds.
Sometimes it's perfectly fine when the birds don't cooperate.
When Stars Go Blue
by Ryan Adams