Change Your Trail to Change Your Attitude

 

I’m not a psychologist. 

I don’t even play one on TV. 

But I know when I’ve fallen into a rut.

I find myself in the same routine, doing the same things each day at the same old job.  Energy ebbs.  Enthusiasm wanes.  Things don’t look so rosy anymore.  I believe all of us sink into these valleys once in a while.  It’s perfectly normal.

Many times the change is so subtle I don’t even realize it’s happened.  For me, the giveaway is that I don’t want to hike on weekends.  Getting up early is a chore.  And I can visualize the entire hike before I roll out of bed.  I feel uninspired about the endeavor.

That’s when I know it’s time to shake things up!  But we’re not talking about a red convertible and vivacious blonde.  I’m talking about a “road trip.”  Not in the traditional sense, what I mean is I need to hike somewhere new.  Somewhere I haven’t visited in a while.  The terrain is different.  The trails are different.  The animals are new and unexpected.

Such places are not far.  I just pick an area that I have not visited in the past six months. 

When you explore new territory your senses are keen.  The unfamiliar trail forces you to pay attention.  No getting lost in the problems you brought home from the office.  No time to dwell on finances, relationships, or unfulfilled desires.  Instead you stride with mindfulness, soaking in the novelty of the place.

Pescadero

In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.
 – Abraham Lincoln

 

Last week I realized I had fallen into one of these ruts.  So I spent an extra hour to drive to the Pacific Coast.  I hiked through a marshland that connects to a rustic, pristine beach.  A large creek flows through the marsh and forms large pools of freshwater and brackish water.  As a result, you can see a variety of creatures.  The sand on the beach and around the brackish pools make it an animal tracker’s paradise.

 

 

 

 

Aquatic Birds

 

Pescadero is known for its Aquatic birds and shorebirds.  I saw many I recognized.  But it was not until I returned home that I was able to positively identify this young Bufflehead.  It was hard to keep track of them as they dove to feed and reappeared seemingly at random.

 

 

Rapturous Raptors

As I hiked inland, I looked back toward the ocean.  A large raptor caught my eye.  It hovered in the offshore breeze high above the marsh.  It’s rapid wingbeats held it aloft as it searched for prey below.  The bird’s behavior reminded me of a kestrel.  But its size and color were wrong.  For one thing, the bird was a stunning snow white with black patches on its shoulders and inner-wings.  And it was larger than any kestrel I’d ever seen.  It was also in the wrong place.  It hovered more than 60 feet in the air.  Much higher than the kestrels I’ve seen.

 

 

When it swooped low over the marsh my fickle memory returned.  The bird was a White-tailed kite!  These birds are famous for their aerial courtship.  The male catches prey and offers it on the wing to the female.  The female rendezvous with the male in midair, rolling upside-down to accept the prey.  The exchange is like a trapeze artist grasping the arms of her tumbling partner.  I have never seen it, but I’ve heard it’s spectacular.

I watched, delighted, as the kite patrolled the marsh’s low grasslands.  It was hunting small mammals.  I’ve seen a kite plunge from the sky to drop on an unsuspecting pocket gopher.  I was hoping for a repeat performance.

As I followed the progress of the kite, my eyes alighted on another raptor.  I startled involuntarily.  It was so close!

 

 

 

The Northern Harrier surveyed the marsh from a fallen tree trunk, about 30 yards from me.  In an earlier post, I explained how to identify a Harrier by checking out its butt.  I usually see them at a distance, gliding low and slow over grasslands.  Their unsteady wingtips have a “dipped in ink” appearance.  But it’s their bright white rump patch that gives the Harrier away.

I crept toward the Harrier hoping for a better view.  I stayed low to the ground, using the grass and my earth-tone clothing to disguise my approach.  But was any self-respecting wild animal going to let a city kid sneak up undetected?  The harrier caught sight of me soon enough.  But there was a water channel between us.  So it did not seem overly concerned by my approach.

 

 

I Need a Drink

As the Harrier and I regarded one another, a sudden disturbance caught my eye.  Further down the opposite side of the creek two black-tailed deer emerged from the tall grass.  They plunged diagonally down the far bank and crossed the stream, heading straight for me.

I realized that neither animal was aware of me in the tall grass.  I dropped to all fours from a crouch.  The animals kept on coming!  I lost sight of them and began tracking their progress by sound.  Then, silence… 

I waited for what seemed like an eternity.  Were they right on top of me?  I could stand it no longer and gradually lifted my head.  I found they had crossed the trail and descended to the sheltered bank of a small pond.  There they stood maybe 30 feet from me, drinking contentedly.  I was eager for a picture and crept toward them on all fours.  I could only wonder what the Harrier was thinking.  It regarded me silently as I crawled toward the deer.  I thought of the movie, The Gods Must Be Crazy, where wild animals bear witness to the bizarre bumbling of the humans around them.

I tensed as one of the deer sniffed the air.  But I realized with excitement that I was downwind of them.  They couldn’t smell me!  The same offshore breeze that kept the Kite afloat also carried away my scent.  I snapped a few pictures as I watched. 

 

 

 

I had seen deer tracks on the beach before.  They always puzzled me.  There was no food or water to lure them to the ocean’s edge.  And the tracks were strange.  The deer appeared to be playing or “dancing”.  They were stotting and there were sudden changes of direction.  The tracks had a playful quality that made me wonder what the deer were up to.

This was the first time I had seen the deer themselves.  After studying their tracks so many times it was nice to have “faces” to match to them. 

 

Harrier Close

I doubled-back toward the Harrier to take more pictures.  After all, how many chances would I get to be this close to such a marvelous bird?

 

 

 

 

 

Change it Up

I enjoyed the remainder of my hike.  And it did the trick!  I immersed myself in a new place and focused on my surroundings.  I hauled my apathy and anxieties into the marsh and emerged with a healthier aspect.  So change your weekend hiking place if you feel yourself falling into a rut.  It will change your outlook for the entire week!

Have you had similar experiences?  Tell me about them using the comments below.

 

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