I woke this morning to the sun rising
over the Short Hills Mountains.
It was very peaceful, listening to the chickadees, titmice, sparrows, robins, and
all the other birds sending out their voices. The birds start singing at dawn
to take advantage of less background noise and the greater air density that
lets their songs carry further. They sing to attract a female or reinforce
their claim to their chosen territory.
After several minutes, the “dawn chorus” worked
its magic and lured me out of bed. The skies had been gray and dreary for
several days, so if the sun had decided to show itself, that alone was
something to celebrate. So I got up and dressed, poured a cup of coffee, put on
my coat, and went out on the porch to greet the morning. Looking down through
the valley to the Short Hills in the distance is one of my favorite views.
View from the front porch of the Short Hills
My presence was soon noted by a
Red-bellied Woodpecker who swooped into a nearby tree, issuing a friendly churr, churr,as if to say — “Fine day, isn’t it?” This male
and his mate are nesting in a cavity in a sycamore tree out back, the same tree
they nested in last year. He will spend a large part of his day foraging and
drumming on a resonant tree to stay in contact with his mate, who is probably
sitting on eggs.
Male Red-bellied woodpecker visiting the suet feeder
South Buffalo Creek, with
its origin in Big
Camp Mountain
to the west, is murmuring in the background. Just a few days ago, after several
days of soaking rain, the creek was roaring out of the mountain with a
vengeance, but has since settled down to its normal flow for this time of year.
From our property, the creek runs east where it will merge with North Buffalo
Creek, flow into the Maury River in Rockbridge County, then on to the James
River, and finally, empty into the Chesapeake Bay.
South Buffalo Creek winding its way to the Maury River
I remembered another
morning when we were still building the house. We were having our coffee on the
back porch when I saw a bear cub backing down a tree, maybe 20 yards away. As
we watched, two more cubs backed down the tree. Realizing that momma bear was
close by, we called back the dogs, already halfway to the tree. The three cubs,
paying no attention to us, casually ambled across the creek and disappeared
into the woods. Momma, who had probably stashed her cubs in the tree while she
went hunting, called out to them and eventually her cubs were reunited with her.
It was then that the realization hit that we would be sharing our farm with the
wild creatures that called these mountains home long before humans began living
here.
We are surrounded on all
sides by mountain ridges, some as tall as 5,000 feet, so if anything symbolizes
this place, it is the mountains. Even though we have only lived here a little
over a year, we can’t imagine ourselves living anywhere else. The mountains are
our home.
“Wildness reminds us what it means to be human, what we are
connected to rather than what we are separate from.” ~ Terry Tempest Williams
