The Sit Spot: Embracing Nature

Recently, I finished up my final week of teaching at the Arkansas Audubon Society's youth ecology camps. For the first two weeks of the camp (Setting: Arkansas' Ouachita Mountains) I am a co-instructor for ornithology (birds...duh) one week and, this year, a co-instructor for aquatic biology the other week. This is the first-year camp for 11-12 year-olds; 50 per week. Also at this location are second-year campers (12 per week), who get invited back for a more rigorous ecology-based curriculum complete with a field trip to visit Red-cockaded Woodpeckers, snorkeling in cold Ouachita springs, gathering/comparing data from north and south facing slopes, and more! These are earlier in the summer season. The camp I just finished, was the AAS's Johnson Advanced Camp. This camp is set in the Ozarks, far north of the first two years' camp. It is also a smaller, elite group of 12 campers who get invited back for their third year. If the second year sounded rigorous, then the third year is downright crazy. At this camp, our days are jam-packed with tree transects (upland and lowland), hiking, bird walks (in the AM), herp walks (in the PM), a five hour wild cave tour, canoeing, camping, more hiking, botany, geology, and the list goes on. Because this is the last camp, we give it a hopeful, more hands-on, citizen science based flair so they can take the knowledge and tools home with them to continue on this great path that they've started. Showing these kids why we and science are so important to land stewardship and conservation is a blessing and provides me with lots of hope for the future of our world.

Just ONE of the enchanting scenes at the first-year camp in the Ouachitas.

In terms of our camp vs. the world, 100 campers per year (not counting those who get invited back) is like a grain of sand on a vast beach. Although, I really believe that 100 more aware people in this world CAN make a difference. That doesn't mean that all of our campers will go on to become ecologists, biologists, naturalists, etc; it just won't happen. But, it's more about awareness than anything and awareness of the natural world is something mostly of the past in our disconnected, "civilized", world. So making more people aware (and at a young age) is pretty important. Young people are who ultimately matter for both the near and far-flung future, but adults need not be lost either!

You can't tell me this isn't about as good as it gets: a COOL, crisp morning smack dab in the middle of an Arkansas summer. This complete with a Bald Eagle on the US's first national river on July 4th; how...American.

The outdoors can be a great place to find yourself...I know, I know cliché, blasé, etcetera (to throw in some French), but it's true! There have been plenty of tough spots in my life where being in nature has acted in a healing way, if not just to be around something else that's so alive! I mean, just look at the photos above, you can't tell me that doesn't stir something primitive deep inside you; some inner longing for natural beauty. Not only is nature healing when you need healing, but it's healing even on a good day; so, rejuvenating, if you will. Which is why, ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you the Sit Spot.  (Watch your enunciation on that one.) This is about one of the simplest ways to enter into nature and it takes little time. It's great for kids because it gets them out of the droll routine of society; ie. go to school, learn by the book, and take a test that determines your level of intelligence...HA! For adults, it's a great way to rejuvenate your busy brain. Let's face it, daily life wears us out mentally and physically. It is really nice to get back to the basics; being outdoors is a primal need and one that many of us reject.

For our campers, the basic "curriculum" we use for the sit spot is this:
1. Find a quiet place in your backyard, along your favorite trail, etc. Your everyday sit spot should be someplace close, quiet, and easy to get to.
2. Bring a journal. Writing about what you are seeing, hearing, feeling can be beneficial the deeper you get into this idea. Especially for someone with a more scientific mind, like myself, who may want to compare data later.
3. I recommend giving it AT LEAST 30 minutes, but you should fit it to your schedule. Most of us have lives after all.
4. More tips for sitting success: For best results, do this alone. If in a group, then spread out. Some people are loners while some can't be alone. Trust me on this one, it's best alone even if that's not what tickles your fancy.---Leave your worldly troubles behind to either pick up on the way out or to never think about again.---Bring binoculars if you wish. As a hardcore birder I typically leave these behind (*gasp*, they distract me).---Leave technology behind, at least for the sit spot.---Do it while you travel too! A change of scenery is never a bad thing.---Also, this is something cool to do as a family.---Give it a go at night sometime, but be careful.---Be aware of where you are sitting before you sit. You can find some interesting things on a sit spot that would rather your spot of sitting not be on the space they sit (read further).

Besides what I've already mentioned, what can a sit spot do for you? Well, first of all it reconnects us with nature, providing us with a personal connection. If you want to delve deeper into your time outdoors, then utilizing one location can really allow you to get to know the creatures around you and get into the inner workings of Mother Nature. One of my favorite benefits is the time for reflection, almost like meditation. This all may sound a little hippie-dippy (and for men, unmanly) but that's what our society has made of it. Looking back at great men like John Muir, Teddy Roosevelt, and many others who sought solace and reflection in nature, ask yourself: were they "hippy" and "feminine"? You might have even found yourself in a fist fight for thinking such a thing in their presence. It's never a bad thing to sharpen your mind and concentration, which a sit spot does.

The sit spot is what you make of it. A great camp boss once told me "the key to life is adaptability". Maybe think about that during your first sit spot. And by all means, find a nice Umbrella Magnolia like this one!

One of my favorite places for a sit spot is along a stream or river. Everything has to come to water at some point and some REALLY cool stuff can be observed when you slip in unnoticed. Of course, being near water in the summer can have its benefits. Recently I found my sit spot in a creek that was clearly spring-fed. Though temperatures were in the 90s, the stream was so cold for my time in it that I was still cool for quite a while on the hike afterwards. With (and without) campers, I have seen some cool critters on a stream-side sit spot. For example, Louisiana Waterthrushes bobbing their butts up and down an area searching for food and feeding young, the aforementioned Bald Eagle that sat pretty on a foggy Fourth of July morning several years ago, and my personal favorite, a family of mink that played across the river while I looked on in amazement.

One of the obliging mink doing some reflecting itself. (I usually leave the camera behind too).

My sit spots tend to be more on the hardcore side. I enjoy getting to know the life in a certain place through the birds. The longer you are a bird watcher, the more skills you gain in that department, like being able to identify birds by sound without having to see them. Many birders take it no further than this, but if you delve ever deeper, you can know what's going on in the entire forest by simply listening from one spot. On a recent sit spot, I was on a bluff overlooking the Little Red River. It was early morning when the birds should have been very alive, but all was silent down below and on the ridge top behind me. At this time of day, in mid-summer, most birds are noisily marking their territory with song or scolding a Blue Jay or crow that wanders too close; not this morning. From experience, I figured some sort of predator was about and because the treetop singers were silent, I could rule out some sort of predator like a fox or bobcat on the ground. Figuring it was probably a hawk or other raptor I spent the remainder of my sit spot listening. Soon I heard the high-pitched squeal of a Broad-winged Hawk, solidifying my hypothesis.

Cooper's Hawk. A die-hard bird eater and another notorious character for enacting a "zone of silence".

Not long after, the hawk must have slipped away from its perch of terror because the birds started to come alive. Not all at once, but species-by-species; the bravest first. I have observed this "zone of silence" many times since I've been tuned into bird language. Birds aren't always silent around predators though. At camp this year, our group was hiking and came across a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, Indigo Buntings and more, low to the ground and raising alarm about something. Being that close to the ground you can rule out a larger predator, so what critter is it that can fit in their small alarm zone? A timber rattlesnake on his own mission to cross a nearby road! The telling language of birds is an interesting one, though probably daunting to someone who hasn't been around birds long. Bird language is a topic for another day, albeit a great example of how to expand your sit spot both mentally and physically.

The offending party, as docile as ever.

Yet another recent sit spot, although technically not, happened during a few minutes I got alone during a night-time activity at camp. This activity was a short night walk WITHOUT a flashlight. Something that is soothing in and of itself. The night was anything but silent. While waiting on the campers to finish, I was deafened by the sound of katydids and other night bugs. The most striking part was the presence of thousands of fireflies. The sheer number I had never actually witnessed. These little lanterns glinting in the dark woods were awe-inspiring. After my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I was amazed at the large area they are able to illuminate with their light bulb butts. This was something of fantasy to most people and how sad that they miss out?!

One more thing...while it seems obvious to most, some may not realize that things will be VERY different during different seasons. Spring and summer are all about life and growth, fall is about letting go of summer's prosperity, and winter is all about survival and trying to beat out death. Sit in or near water somewhere during the summer if you don't like the heat and bundle up in the winter. Either way, go find a rock or some cushy leaves and have at it!

I had to do it. This Six-spotted Tiger Beetle is a woodland gem and a fierce predator for the less than 1/2" of space it takes up. Keep an eye out and maybe you can watch one hunt while you sit. Pretty cool! Other species of tigers can be found in different habitats, though this is the prettiest of the more common ones.

You never really know what to expect when outdoors, even someplace like a sit spot where you are a regular. Being in tune to what's going on in nature is something very special that our ancestors once took great pride in. I think they would be ashamed of today's world in many ways. The sit spot is just one way that aids in gaining a deeper understanding of our natural world, appreciation of which we often lack. So make the family of your past and present proud, while paving the way to a better future. Deepen your awareness of the natural world so something is here for our future generations to enjoy. A reconnection like this is a big step, but a necessary one. When you do it enough, gosh darn it feels good to be primitive for a little while and just pay attention to what is REALLY going on around you, not the bustle of human life! Savor it always!

• The idea of a sit spot, alas, is not my own. I'm a mere messenger. It comes from Coyote Mentoring Wilderness Awareness School, whose book we use often at camp: http://wildernessawareness.org/program/coyote-mentoring/
• If you're into reading about stuff like this, then A Sand County Almanac by Aldo Leopold is an absolute gem and classic for your enjoyment. It's an easy read too.
• For more, John Muir and Henry David Thoreau (among others) also wrote classics that can inspire that nature-lover hidden deep inside you. Although, theirs may be a little more hardcore than Aldo Leopold starting out. 
• Finally, if you want more about bird language, then What the Robin Knows by Jon Young is an excellent choice. I must say, it is what inspired me to dive behind the wall of simply identifying birds by sound.

Enjoy and good sitting,

Mitchell

In Old North Carolina

Bodie Island Lighthouse (ca. 1872)

From Port-of-Spain, Trinidad, another birder and I caught a plane to Norfolk, VA where we were poised to start yet another week of birding; this time on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Nowhere I've been, and probably few places in the world, surpass the coastal habitat and birding opportunities of the Outer Banks. The southeastern forests meet Atlantic salt marshes and duney beaches here, bringing together the most interesting of both. Arriving late seemed to be a trend, but we were able to get cleaned up and ready to meet the rest of our crew the next day; another birder from Arkansas and a former camper of mine, who has become quite the birder/naturalist himself.

Not only are the Outer Banks naturally interesting, they're also very historically interesting. On the way south to stay with some local birders with long-held ties to Arkansas, we passed Roanoke Island (site of the lost English colony), Kill Devil Hills and Kitty Hawk (where the Wright Brothers took flight), Bodie Island (home to one of the Outer Banks' famed 19th-century lighthouses), Rodanthe, and finally Hatteras. And of course, we stopped to bird along the way! Oregon Inlet was the coolest stop of the day. Here we found nesting colonies of Least Tern, Black Skimmer, American Oystercatcher, Piping Plover, and one Red Knot in brilliant breeding plumage. Since our Red Knot has recently been listed as "threatened", it made the sighting that much cooler. Pretty much ending the day with this, we arrived in Frisco to stay with our birder friends and ready ourselves for the next day's adventure.

This adventure came in the form of a pelagic trip. This might not mean much to most people, but to a birder it's a rite of passage involving all day on a boat looking for birds that never come to the mainland. Most of the time, they cannot even be seen from land. Our day started with a 5:30am departure and several hours of nothing until we were about 35 miles offshore. Here at the Gulf Stream, we hit it big with Cory's Shearwater, Great Shearwater, Sooty Shearwater and Wilson's Storm-Petrel.

Great Shearwater: medium-sized with a dark back and cap.

Multiple flocks fed in the warm currents, usually allowing the boat in close proximity and providing great views. Before this trip, I was under the impression that all the pelagic species looked the same and it was impossible for the land-lubbing birder to identify them without guides. At first it was, but only because of our unfamiliarity with them. Once you notice differences in size and color (as in shearwaters) or tail length (as in storm-petrels), it wasn't so bad! The day brought more birds: Long-tailed Jaeger, Pomarine Jaeger, Audubon's Shearwater, Manx Shearwater, Leach's Storm-Petrel, Band-rumped Storm-Petrel, the sought-after Black-capped Petrel, Bridled Tern, and Arctic Tern. With these species, nothing was left to the imagination other than what rare seabird might be lurking just over the horizon. The first five hours went by in a flash with all the heavy birding, but the second half of the day just rolled by with the waves. After lunch, exhaustion had set in. I stayed pretty much glued to a bench for the rest of the day, dozing off, but still listening intently for anything good to be announced over the loudspeaker. Our party was all in the same boat! I fully expected to arrive in Africa before the afternoon was up. Some notes to those birders thinking of doing a pelagic:

1. If you have to use the restroom, just do it. There's no good time to go with the constant fear of missing something. When our first Black-capped Petrel was announced, I was in the head and had to quickly finish and throw the door open. I set a personal record and almost knocked another passenger off the boat, but I saw AND photographed the bird! If you have to, cast modesty overboard and open that door when something good is announced! The rest of us will forgive you.
2. Suck up the sea sickness. The only seasick birder on board was in our elite Arkansas group. We're land-lubbers through and through. He powered through it though, leaning off the boat to heave and coming back up firing the camera and finishing his conversations! When you're out there for 12 hours, you don't have a choice but to make the most of it. Also, eat ginger snaps, I hear they taste the same on the way out as they do on the way in. Or opt for a more seabird friendly choice like tuna/other seafood...help out with the chumming process. The captain will thank you.

My lifer Black-capped (Pee)trel.

We arrived back shaky and sunburned at 5:30pm, exactly TWELVE hours after we embarked. It was worth every penny, but I won't be doing it again very soon!

It's amazing something no larger than a swallow can survive such an extreme environment. Wilson's Storm-Petrel.

The true seafarer of our crew did a pelagic again the next day, but the rest of us opted out to start several days of productive land birding. We birded Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge with our generous hosts. Shorebirds were plentiful as well as several marsh specialties we were looking for. By lunchtime, we had nailed Clapper Rail and multiple Seaside Sparrows, all desired targets. We also had Gull-billed Tern, Tricolored Heron, and a Red-necked Phalarope in breeding plumage. None of this was a big deal for coastal North Carolina, but us Arkansans were out of sorts from all the "good" birds. The end of the day brought us back to Oregon Inlet where we walked alongside the nesting colonies and observed the birds going to and from the water for food. The Least Terns were my favorite to watch. Both parents took care of the eggs and young. Coming and going from the nest would start a "changing of the guard" process. Methodic and well-rehearsed, the sitting parent stands up to greet the other as if to check their identity. The new arrival then moves to the nest, while the other takes off in search of food. Watching activity around the dunes was mesmerizing. On the sound side of the same barrier island, we found a late White-winged Scoter and a Black Scoter not far away. Black Scoter has been a long-time nemesis of mine, needless to say I was pretty excited when it was spotted. The scoters marked the end of our most productive day.

Least Tern on Eggs. 

Cape Hatteras Lighthouse (ca. 1870)

In the morning, we started with a stop at the famed Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. This is a well-known east coast landmark with its black spirals and bright red base. It was actually moved, yes, picked up and MOVED in the late 1990s to save it from a salty death in the encroaching ocean. It was a big to-do. Equipped with seismic sensors and cameras, the move was monitored by a company on the mainland to make sure no new cracks appeared in the antique brick structure. They only moved it a 1/4 mile over the course of several months, but moving it was a good call as a hurricane destroyed its former location not long after. 

From there, our group hopped on a ferry to Ocracoke Island for lunch and an afternoon of birding. What else?!

Birding on Ocracoke was interesting to say the least and netted us nothing new. However, we were fortunate to find yet another nesting colony of birds. Here we were able to walk along the waterline quite a ways before national park ropes protecting the breeding territories came into play. In this colony we had close views of American Oystercatchers, Piping Plovers, and 27 Red Knot! The knots don't breed on the east coast, but lag behind in small numbers through late spring and early summer. For us to see 27 of these newly threatened birds in breeding plumage at close range was something really special. Also on this stretch of beach were hundreds of White Beach Tiger Beetles, another vulnerable species. When it comes to an unlikely duo like the Red Knot and the beetle, it's all about habitat. Habitat, or lack thereof, is almost always what drives a species into being threatened or worse. The Outer Banks and its wide swaths of national park property do a great job as far as protection goes, but it isn't always so simple. Coastal ecosystems, especially barrier islands, can be crippled so by humans that it doesn't take much of a storm for Mother Nature to finish the job. 

White Beach Tiger Beetle (Cicindela dorsalis media)

In an environment that's all about beach-goers and fishing, it's not hard to forget about the little guy in the form of birds like the Piping Plover that vanishes like a ghost in the sand and the even littler guy like the tiger beetle, but everything holds the ecosystem together in some way and we'll be willing them back when they're gone. 

One of the little waterfront ghosts: Piping Plover.

On a happier note, as the sun set on our last day in North Carolina we had no regrets. Our hosts, the state, and the birds had treated us well on our trip. North to Virginia we spent one more day of birding, this time at Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, another important coastal refuge. Most of our morning was spent staking out King Rails along marshy boardwalks. A kind volunteer helped us for a while, pointing out other interests along the way including a mass of Eastern Cottonmouths. After nothing but vocalizations I finally saw one, but it was gone too quick for anyone else to get on it. We kept at it until a nasty storm came and pushed us to shelter. With a warm bowl of she-crab soup, a Virginia specialty, we called it quits for the day as the rain continued. The afternoon spent chilling was much needed after a week (two for me) of heavy all day birding. Nobody could complain about that! 

As we headed west to our inland lives, we daydreamed about shearwaters, Red Knots, and lighthouses. I think I even saw one of the tiger beetles crawl by. It's been a great season for me and birding with friends. I can't wait to see what the rest of 2015 brings!

P.S. I had to throw in some trip dragonflies....

Needham's Skimmer (Libellula needhami). Back Bay NWR, Virginia.

Seaside Dragonlet (Erythrodiplax berenice). Pea Island NWR, Dare County, North Carolina.

For a complete set of photos from the North Carolina trip, visit: http://www.pbase.com/mpruitt/north_carolina_2015

Enjoy!

~Mitchell