Monsoon in Raptorville with owl and hawks

When it's monsoon season in raptorville, and the temperature is below 100, I go for an evening walk. First, a visit with the young great horned owl who watched my every move

 .

until potential dinner flew close by and turned the owl's head

As the sky began to darken, nighthawks flew above me, in numbers I've never seen before, all heading in the same direction, like the bats that fly out from under the bridge each night. There were bats flying also, but they fluttered like errant bits of confetti.

A Cooper's hawk arrived. I focused on it, but from behind me I heard a man's voice calling in a loud whisper, "Miss, oh, Miss, look here." He was pointing to a second hawk in a different tree. 

He introduced me to his dog, Gracie, her back end wagging while her front end was poised to escape. The man directed me not to make eye contact with her if I wanted her to approach me. "She's my rescue. I don't know what happened to her before I got her, but it wasn't good."

I was hoping to see Coyote, as I often do 

Coyote drawing Beth Surdut www.bethsurdut.com

but instead, I hooked up with  Maxfield Parrish, who'd come to  paint the sky.

 I walked home, watching the rain walk over the mountains.

Nature is Never Boring

The Art Of Paying Attention by Beth Surdut: Illustrated Wildlife Radio Encounters on NPR

I’m a wildlife illustrator, essayist, and storyteller in the Southwest United States. I research the behavior of each creature, write about our true encounters, interview experts, collect sounds, draw each critter, and then go to the local NPR station to record with an Emmy award-winning producer. My multi-platform series, The Art of Paying Attention, airs and is posted on azpm.org, the NPR affiliate Arizona Public Media.

When Rachel Carson wanted people to pay attention to the effects of environmental pollution, she personalized the far-reaching effects of pesticides by asking readers of her New Yorker pieces to look out their windows. And they did. Not only did people see the corpses of poisoned squirrels, they took action. Whether motivated to protect the human species or every little life in the larger ecosystem, the results raised enough awareness to make changes.
Like Carson, I know from experience that if you pay attention long enough, you can see the whole world in your yard. And once you start looking, it is hard to stop. From my perspective, paying attention brings care, care brings love; and that love engenders protection.
With this series, I am extending an invitation to observe, with unbounded curiosity, the wild life that flies, crawls, and skitters along with us in our changing environment.
In this time of environmental doomsayers–and we do need to hear the bad news– the enormity of destruction can render some of hopeless. I offer a joyous and, I hope, action-inducing alternative to those of us who are motivated by wonder rather than by fear and guilt. By being aware of what is around us, each of us can care for our little patch, and together form a quilt of protection. And have a great time doing so.

More info: bethsurdut.com

http://www.boredpanda.com/the-art-of-paying-attention-illustrated-wildlife-radio-encounters-by-beth-surdut/

Telling Tales in New Mexico

Critter Tales:
Yours, Mine, and Ours
Feb 18, 2009
9:30 AM - noon

There's nothing as fun as winding people up and watching them go, so I'm facilitating this workshop at the Georgia O'Keeffe museum. Come join a round robin of your nature stories, where I bet we'll learn more about the humans telling the tales than then critters we talk about.
Here’s a great opportunity to foster concise storytelling. Bring your wild critter stories—off the top of your head is just fine—and share them with neighbors who have lived in New Mexico forever or for just a little while.
Professional writer and artist Beth Surdut, aka Gator Girl, will assist you in telling a good tale for radio—short and sometimes not so sweet. Participants will write their stories, read them aloud, and hone them for radio. Education Annex, 123 Grant Avenue. $35; Members $26 (25% discount).Reservations required by February 16: 505.946.1039.
For a few bites of the wild life, meander through my blog. Drawing Raven explains why I've come here. In Gator Girl , terror masquerades as aplomb, and join me in Raptor Rapture-- an owl prowl and oh my, what big teeth you have. There are gators and mermaids swimming through my stories here and at http://www.bethsurdut.com/

Raptor Rapture

Big gator. Bigger than my boat, and definitely faster. Like a nightmare troll stretching across the narrow entrance of the estuary, he watches as I edge past in a rented tub-toy masquerading as a kayak. God he has a lot of teeth.

Almost three years I've been paddling, skimming, slogging, punting my way along the Myakka- the wild and scenic place that never disappoints and keeps me on the right side of sanity.

Almost sunset--two wood storks pose in tandem like a lyre of grace amidst four deer grazing in a lush green patch. An ungainly gallinule lofts from one shore to the other, reflected in the dark mirror of water before landing heavily in a bank of grass so dry it crackles.

I paddle up to where I think the bird might be, and find myself looking at three bulging pairs of eyes in gator babies so cute you might almost forget that Big Momma Gator might be close by...but truth is, I have an arrangement with these creatures of wing and hoof, carapace and prehistoric hide--they own the joint and as long as I behave myself, I get to experience the wonder of natural Florida.

I spent three nights wandering around Myakka park looking for owls. Didn't see a one in the wild, or on the birdwalk, or up in the moonlit canopy, or down by the gully, though the Owl Prowl instructor brought four raptors for a teaching purposes. "Might sound like a dove," the ranger said.

Dusk in my backyard in the city-- For the second night in a row I hear"Hoooo-hooo. Hooo-hooo-hooo." I stand under the live oaks draped with thick Spanish moss, what we call Pele's Hair in Hawaii, and I carefully mimic the call. There it is, a great winged creature flying across the twilight, a barred owl. Must've heard me asking for him.

For more art and the adventures of Gator Girl, see The Subtlety of Gators posted Oct 2007.