So often, we look, but do not see.

Quite some time ago, I went through what I called my "Henry David Thoreau Period".  I was fascinated with his nature writings has how thorough and intimate they were.  And, I couldn't help but wonder what he would think about nature today, with species having gone extinct, and others on 'endangered' lists.  At that time, I thought he would probably be appalled at how badly we were treating our environment.

It was then I began to think in earnest about my own environment, and how my very own neighborhood had changed drastically since we moved here in the early '70s.  I had learned from long time residents that the exact spot where my home sits was once a marsh area, that was, through each season filled with wild flowers, frogs, chipmunks, salamanders, California quail, opossums and raccoon.

At the time we arrived and took up residence, the street was not paved, we would get together and collect money to fill the pot holes every couple of years.  There were no street lights, and when it got dark...it really got dark.  You could see the milky way, and the sound of frogs would lull us to sleep.  It was amazing. Even thought the freeway was close by, around ten o'clock each evening, the traffic lessened, and you were not even aware the fast paced thoroughfare was there.

But, over time, the street was paved, more houses were build, trees came down, wildlife habitat dwindled. The frogs were gone, as were the chipmunks, the opossums, and the quail.  A lot of the wild flowers and the tiny red salamanders disappeared as well.  Streetlights appeared, the starry sky disappeared.  Traffic increased, as did the noise of the freeway. We could hear the noise twenty four hours a day.  It sounds like the constant flow of waves rolling into the shore.

So it was the words of Thoreau stunned me.  I wanted to imitate him, I wanted to leave a legacy for my children and my children's children and I began to walk my 'nature path', to a world to discovery.  I knew I was looking, but not seeing and was bound and determined to learn to see, and learn about my environment.  My quest lasted for almost three years.  I filled six journals, drew pictures, collected specimens, researched just about everything with which I came in contact. I filled binders with leaves, flowers, seeds, and bird feathers.  I sensed Thoreau would have been proud of me.

This weekend, I was doing a little garden trimming, and a ladybug landed in my hair, then I saw tiny acorns starting to grow along the branches of my oak tree, dozens of forget my not seeds clung to my clothes.  It was then it occurred to me (again) the magic of nature.  How, seeds move around, how plants seem to (magically) appear in places I haven't planted them and I thought perhaps my blog might be a good place to share what I learned as I mimicked my favorite long ago naturalist.  As a result, I think from time to time I just might write a Rambling Old Woman's nature tidbit with you.  Perhaps I might even intrigue you enough that you will venture into your neighborhood, and not just look but see what's there...before it disappears forever.

Hey, this just might be fun...I hope.