It’s mid-March and the annual bird migration has begun. Around here, the robins returned in February, and I thought I saw a turkey vulture. As the weeks go by, I will hear plenty of different types of birdsong in the woods, letting me know the seasonal residents have returned and are ready to breed.

But this migration took on new meaning yesterday. Here’s why…

After feeding the cows, I happened to catch a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked up and I saw about a dozen barn swallows flying overhead. At first, I was excited because I thought it was “our” barn swallows returning for the summer. But they just kept flying and I realized, “Oh my gosh. They’re still migrating. They are headed somewhere farther north than our farm.”

All of a sudden it hit me and I was awestruck: Those birds are exhausted and hungry and anxious to be home. They had already travelled thousands of miles to get to where I was standing and they had farther to go. I was watching the wonder of nature play out before my very eyes.

I spent some time pondering why this sighting caused such awe in me. I’ve watched geese migrate. I’ve watched Turkey vultures meander south. I’ve seen the swallows gathering to head south in the fall.

But I’ve never before seen a flock of migrating birds near the end of their journey. It gives me chills even thinking about it now because this wonder of nature goes on around us all the time. This migration has been going on long before we were here and I hope and pray it goes on after we’re gone.

Seeing that those birds working so hard to fulfill their destiny despite everything makes me that much more committed to doing what I can do to help by fighting light pollution, planting native plants, and choosing organic (because pesticide use kills off the insects the birds like the barn swallows eat)…just to name a few.

And seeing that wonder reminds me once again just how much beauty there is to be seen all around us if we slow down and pay attention.

May you also witness a wonder today.

That’s all for now.

Barn swallow photo by Mike Kit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/barn-swallow-on-wooden-stick-17326952/

Jimmy Carter’s passing has me remembering my environmental awakening in the 1970s—and the disillusionment that has been holding me back…until now.

The Lightbulb Award

The country was in an oil crisis and the President asked people to save energy. Turning off lights was one thing we could easily do.

I was too young to understand the situation, but I did understand turning off lights. And I already had an inkling that we were messing with our planet. Hence my childhood environmental awakening.

From somewhere I got the idea to make a lightbulb award. The idea was to give the award to a family member when they turned off the lights when leaving a room.

So, I made an award, either drawing it or using construction paper, I don’t recall, and I put string on it so it could be hung on a doorknob or hook. I was proud of that award! I thought it was awesome!

I told my family about the award and how they could win it. Then I waited for my family to turn off lights so they could hang the award on their bedroom door.

And I waited.

After a few days of being the only one who turned off lights and therefore the only one who had the award displayed on her bedroom door, I gave up. In other words, I was the only one who gave a &^%.

That was disheartening for a child. I remember my disappointment as if it just happened yesterday, not 50 years ago.

Here I am all these decades later and I still have a lingering sense of isolation, of being someone who is alone in her passion for this planet.

On the other hand, I know that’s not true. So many people are speaking out and encouraging us to do the right thing, from fighting light pollution to planting native plants. I read their books. I know they care. And I do what I can do.

But it’s hard to shake those childhood experiences. I feel isolated still.

Not Any More

But that was then. And now I say no more. I have decided that this year, 2025, I will shake off that disappointment and seek out people who are like me, people who care and who want to make small steps to bring about big change. I have a list of people to reach out to. I will ask them to connect me with others who think like me. I will start attending county and city meetings to speak out.

It’s empowering to make this commitment to myself, to say no, the message I internalized in the 1970s was a false message and to act counter to it.

Looking back on it now, I think I had two kinds of awakenings as a child. The first was to learn that there were steps I could take to make a difference in the world. The second was that most people don’t give a rat’s ass, not even my own family.

And this is the year I prove to myself that my second “awakening” was wrong. Those who care are out there. I will find them. Are you one of them? Let me know. Let’s do this.

And that’s it for now.

Image by upklyak on Freepik

Tag: light pollution

Why the Sight of These Swallows Filled Me With Awe

Jimmy Carter and My Environmental Awakening—and Disillusionment

The Lightbulb Award

Not Any More