I believe this is a wren with his/her head turned up looking into the
bushes by the Russian River. I haven\’t been able to identify which species it is
I packed my lunch and headed out to the mail center to send off my packages and cards. I talked to \”J\” who takes care of my mail. When I told him I was headed out to Armstrong Woods to have a picnic and take photos in the redwood grove, he mentioned hearing that the park was closed. I\’ve never heard of the park closed, with COVID these days, who knows?
\”J\” also told me about a great sandwich they make at Big Bottom Market, in Guerneville, the deli made famous by Oprah who declared their biscuits to be the best in the world. \”J\” said \”you\’ve gotta try the cuban sandwich, lighter than the usual cuban, and really good.\” So now, I have something to treat myself to when I am not carrying my lunch.
Turns out, big white block barriers and a closed to traffic sign greeted me several feet from the forest closing down Armstrong Woods, so I detoured my way to the Russian River.
Parking the car, in the lot, I headed down to the river. Only one other car was next to mine, no one else was at the park. Usually, this would spook me and I would never venture out alone on trails not close to town. Not anymore. After Scott transitioned, my unfounded fears have evaporated replaced by courage to venture in places I normally would not alone, a sense of owning my space (in other words, a don\’t fuck with me attitude), and a healthy dose of adventuresome spirit along with a tendency to drive a bit more aggressively are traits being integrated into my unwanted solo life.
At the edge, the green river lapped at the crushed grey rocks. The wind with some life left from last night lifted the green feathery leaves on top of the redwoods towering overhead. I watched the sunshine play on the soft current. The one car bridge was quiet except for a passing truck.
I stayed for a few minutes near the bridge, listening to the birds. A butterfly hopped the sky close to me and turned back towards the redwood grove. I followed until she disappeared into the forest. A small bird squeaked in the bushes near the water, I took a few photos choosing the one above since it showed the pattern on the wing feathers. I believe it\’s a wren. I am still waiting for my field guide, so I can ID the birds better.
On the way home, I stopped at a couple of parks in the suburbs to finish the rest of my lunch I started to eat at the river. The parks with empty playgrounds and ball parks felt so melancholy, I ended my trip short and headed back home.
At the river, with the birds and butterflies, my spirit felt so good, so free, so willing to follow the animals wherever they lead me.