Saturday, January 27, 2018

IN THE COMPANY OF STARS



I’m star struck.

Twice.

First, I’m hanging out with Hedwig. Really. 

Well, I’m hanging out with one of the snowy owls used to portray Harry Potter’s companion owl. She wasn’t in the films. She did the promotional circuit for the immensely famous books about deliciously magical people.

And so I consider this a magical moment and even though there are more than 12 other magnificent raptors on perches in this small room (more later) I can’t stop staring at Hedwig. I remember reading when Hagrid gave her to Harry. And when she flew to France to deliver Hermione’s birthday present. Potter fans can be reminded of all things Hedwig here.  

Jonathon Woods uses an audience volunteer to feed the eagle
Star struck No. 2:  I’m hanging with Jonathon and Susan Woods, who are here with their birds, in this small room at the South Padre Island (Texas) Birding and Nature Center.  I paid $5 to voluntarily wedge myself into this small room packed with about 100 people because I am such a fan of The Raptor Project. It’s the same wild bird presentation Allen and I scrambled to see at the New York State Fair for years. In fact, 18 years. 

They aren’t at the fair anymore, they said. Been gone four or five years. Politics. Shame. Because the Woods are living encyclopedias of birds of prey. They manage to rehabilitate injured birds and set them free or, if the disability is too great, take them on this road show.  To educate people like me. And I love it.

These birds are not stuffed, just flexing
So this sardine-packed room has about 12 magnificent raptors in it and we are close enough to all of them to see their eyes blink. There’s a vulture, a caracara (known locally as a Mexican Bald Eagle) a real bald eagle, a golden eagle, many falcons and big and little owls.

And of course, there’s Hedwig. She sits through the 45 minute show watching us as intently as we watch her.  Whenever Jonathon is near her, he tussles her feathers, kisses her head. She coos. 

She’s his companion.

So you see, it IS Hedwig.


Tuesday, January 23, 2018

A SEA TURTLE SUPERSTAR

Donna

I know the day’s supposed to be about the turtles.

In fact, that’s why I am here, at the edge of the Gulf of Mexico, at the south end of South Padre Island, huddled with hundreds of others behind yellow police tape, just waiting for the release of the rescued turtles.

(To find out why they need to be released, watch this video.)

But what captures my attention and soon my heart is Donna. She’s a Jennifer Aniston look-alike (well, nearly) and she’s kneeling in the sand a few people up from me. I learn, because of her sheer excitement, that Donna is a rescuer.

She found one of these cold-stunned turtles while she and her boyfriend were exploring Boca Chica, an expanse of beach not to far from here and right next to Mexico. It’s a stretch of land destined to become very, very famous because Elon Musk is building his Space X launch pad there.

But for now, it’s still wild, and it attracts adventurers like Donna and her boyfriend, who were walking down the beach toward the border with Mexico, to the place with the Rio Grand spills into the Gulf of Mexico. They moved along the sand,  huddled against the wind and the chill, looking for beautiful seashells as they go.

 What they saw instead was a lifeless, 100-pound lump of giant sea turtle stranded on the sand, not moving. She touched its head and its eyelids fluttered, so she knew it was alive. But not for long. They needed to help.

So she and her boyfriend hefted the giant up the beach and into the backseat of her car. Then drove about 45 miles to the Sea Turtle Rescue on South Padre Island, where volunteers warmed it up and, a few days later, released it back into the Gulf. (Yay!)

So now Donna is part of the family, part of the turtle safety net. She comes to all the turtle releases. She's giddy with renewed joy each time. Ands glows with excitement as volunteers carry the turtles back to the sea. For me, it’s fun to see. For her, it’s a homecoming.


Saturday, January 20, 2018

PAYING HOMAGE TO SATURDAY

My little winter escape on South Padre Island, Texas

During the winter, I live in a quiet campground (just 16 trailers) usually populated by others like me, happily retired seniors who walk their dogs three times a day and mingle in the middle to chat.

This winter, though, two youngsters live among us, a 30-something burly construction worker and his wife, who work nearby on a natural gas pipeline. They work Monday through Friday. And they play on Saturday. They play hard, with loud music, loud car vacuums, loud whatnot. 

They create an energy to Saturday I’d long forgotten about, an energy that sets it apart from the work week. Because Monday through Friday is quiet and regimented. It’s a work week. Its form and function destine it to work.

But Saturday is Fun Day. Anything can happen because it’s off the clock. They tinker with their trucks, tend their dogs, vacuum the trailer, sip beers and listen to music.  Loud music. Sometimes head-banging music. But never for long.  (Who knew there's a funky rock version of "Margaritaville"? Heard it today. Hmmmm.)

I’ll not complain.  It’s OK for them to thump my world a little bit on Saturday because heck, I’m retired. Every day is my Saturday, so I have seven to their one. They can have their one however they want it, I say, listening to a rambling wild guitar riff I don’t actually like much at all. 

And because that riff is never ending, maybe I’ll go walk the beach. 

Thursday, January 18, 2018

NEVER UNDERESTIMATE MILLENNIALS


They look like such ordinary kids. 20-somethings (well, one has tipped into his 30s). Out to tour the country (theirs and ours) before adulting (I’m getting used to this word.).

Nice kids from Canada. Friendly. They are camped next to us on South Padre Island, Texas, and plan to head home soon to Victoria (on Vancouver Island)  after spending nearly a year on the road. 


We invite them to dinner. Because they are so nice. And maybe, I think, a few new adults in their life might make the segue to adulting transparent. 

Oh. So. Naive.

Meet Justin and Tenile. He is from Yellowknife, Northwest Territory, and she is from South Africa. While she was in film editing school then running her own film editing business, he was driving the ice roads up North,  lumberjacking the jungles of Central America and volunteering to fight fires in Canada.  My head is spinning. Really? 

They met, married and partnered in her business, which they now do daily from their trailer, while on the road, exploring their country and ours.

They took to traveling because their life changed. They lost their home (literally … the owner plans to tear it down). So instead of trying to find another place to set down roots, they bought a trailer and started the traveling gig.

And now they are heading home because their life has changed again. They’ll soon be parents and they prefer Canada’s free health care system over the bloated one we have here.

Phew. Amazing. Wow.

OK. These not-so-ordinary kids don’t need lessons in adulting. They got it.

Friday, January 5, 2018

A CREATIVE SPACE FOR CREATIVE PEOPLE

I’m cold (35 degrees). 

And I’m in Texas. Near the Mexican border. We come here in winter to get away from winter.

I stop complaining when I think about my grandson Porter, who is living in his truck up north in Austin  (24 degrees).  He won’t be in that truck long. He has the promise of living in a little house, called the Pink House (he says he’ll find a more appropriate name),  in a most unique community.

He lives in Earphoria, a commune-type hostel for musicians (Porter plays guitar) and music lovers. It gives musicians (and music lovers) from all over the world an inexpensive place to stay with their music. 

We visited at Christmas (feeling blessed) and walked around the acre of living space with Porter as  guide. There’s the community kitchen, the laundry spot, an airstream, a few other trailers, the chicken coop, the green house, and, of course, the pink house.

We also visited the music house, a fully functioning recording studio with instruments inside.  All the living spaces radiate from that music house. As do the people who live there.

I’ve posted pictures below. It’s cold here and it’s cold there and I love that Porter has the promise of the Pink House. And gets to keep his music with him.
The entrance to a special hostel in Austin
The pink house way at the back will be Porter's
A close up of the pink house


One of the hostel living spaces

Porter and his girlfriend Kiley built this patio



A living space


A living space


Communal kitchen

Chicken coop


Greenhouse

Inside the music house

Recording studio



Storage

Cords


The main house

The laundry

Outdoor art

Rain gear

Music corner inside the main house