Raindrops and Eagle Songs

I awoke at 7:00 am to the joyful dance of a soft, steady rain on the roof of my motor home, accompanied by the mystical, musical sound of a pair of bald eagles in the tall spruce trees on either side of my campsite.

If you have never had the privilege of listening to these majestic birds calling back and forth to each other in the wild, you should put it on your “Bucket List”. It’s an enchanting sound, and not a little intimidating when you are walking a small dog on a leash. A very short leash!

I’ve been watching and listening to this pair off and on for over a week. I’m not sure if they have a nest in the area, or if the Kenai River is just good hunting grounds. Needless to say, Ronni has not been on her favored 15’ Flexi-leash at this campground.

I highly recommend you watch and listen to this entire video clip. Bald eagles have an entire vocabulary, not just one or two calls. Quite amazing.

Living, even temporarily, pretty much “between the wings” of a pair of these feathered icons, I was impressed by the many and varied vocalizations. I’ve previously heard the piercing single-note of an eagle flying overhead, but this was my first experience of eagles conversing.

I wonder if they were exchanging pleasantries, or discussing the morning meal options?

THIS is not on the menu!

April in Alaska is Dreary

I should begin by saying, “Oops!” It’s obviously been a while since I was last motivated to write. ☺️ When I opened my blog program today, I found this all-but-finished blog post sitting in Drafts, simply waiting for someone to click “Send”. It’s been sitting here since, well … April. 🤷🏼‍♀️ Better late than never, right?

April in Alaska is admittedly not the prettiest month of the year, but since it is technically Spring, I can appreciate it for that alone.

Looking at the big picture; April brings forests of dull brown, leafless trees, large banks of dirty snow melting slowly into rivulets of muddy water and highway intersections that could probably stock fish.

Although its often dreary landscape tempts me towards depression most years, this year I find myself embracing April for its promise of good things to come. Dog sports trials are up and running (even though I’m not yet in any shape to participate).

Another sign that April is a sure prelude to spring; rising temperatures carry the first earthy scents of the forest floor, freshly freed from winter’s frozen grip. Willow trees are covered in fuzzy pussy-willow pods.

Sure, it smells like mud and musty dead leaves, but it gives people hope, raising spirits and invigorating the soul.

If you take the time to peer closely at the little things, and listen hard, April comes into closer focus. The green tips of an early crocus breaking ground in a neighbor’s garden, the cheerful song of birds who instinctively know the cold season is ending, or maybe the little calendar by my bed, with “Call for an appointment to de-winterize the RV” circled in red.

As I relaxed atop my bed this afternoon, with my healing knee elevated on a big foam wedge and an ice pack strapped securely in place, I had plenty of time to reflect.

What I like most about April is simply that it means May is next! It’s almost summer! ☀️

Nice While it Lasted

The pounding of surf crashing along the shoreline intruded on my dreams, nearly but not quite waking me.

I love everything about the ocean; the salty tang of saltwater, hot sand and seaweed in the air, the constantly changing shades of blues, grays and greens glittering as far as the eye can see, the restless and yet restful sounds.

There’s nothing like sleeping at the beach when a summer storm brews up. Powerful, white-crested combers push rhythmically up the sand, one after another as the tide draws in, their thunderous crescendos drowning out the sound of seagulls and the gentler gurgling of water being pulled back to sea.

The wind must have picked up, I remember thinking groggily, as the light, distinctive tinkle of beach sand blowing against window glass stirred me again towards wakefulness.

The relaxing sound of summer waves hitting the shore didn’t fade as I reluctantly surfaced from a rare afternoon nap. My brain, slowly adapting from sleep to wakefulness, simply reassigned the sounds more realistically.

My eyes opened – and then promptly snapped closed again. I liked my dream much better than the blowing February snow pelting hard little pellets against my bedroom window.

The rolling ocean waves had morphed once again into the sound of winter wind, blowing in gusts against the house. Snow, in mock mimicry of the sandy beach I so desired, drifted across the deck in cold dunes.

Oh well … it was sure nice while it lasted.

Chirp! Chirp!

Yep, pretty much nothing but the sound of crickets coming from my blog the past few weeks.

I’d spent over a month getting ready; reorganizing furniture, widening a few pathway pinch points and disappearing a couple of extension cords. My house, it seemed, abounded with trip hazards.

I stored away small area rugs, and found better places for winter boots to live. It’s amazing how clutter can narrow a house’s footprint in 25 years. A small dresser here, a tub of yarn there …. Dachshunds everywhere.

Hey, who knew adding dog ramps to the bed in 2018 made access on my side of the bed only 20” wide? Way too narrow for a walker, but an easy fix – Jerry and I switched sides. This solved a couple of mobility/access problems, but sure seemed super weird after 24 years.

I think I was as prepared as I could manage, never having been in this particular position before. I had spoken to friends (and doctors, too), watched dozens of recommended You Tube videos, and had purchased all sorts of medical aids to assist in my return to wholeness.

Want to hear the real laugh (well, maybe the only laugh)? I fully expected, since I’d have to spend weeks sitting and lying about, to keep myself occupied by writing daily blog posts documenting my recovery.

Umm … yeah, it turns out – not so much.

In hindsight; why I thought this was something I’d ever want to blog about is beyond my comprehension.

Two weeks ago today, I went in for a TKR (total knee replacement) of my right knee. These photos are the only highlights I’ve been able to glean from the past two weeks.

I have excellent round-the-clock nursing care. Nurse Rhonda has occasionally called in reinforcements in the form of assistant nurse, Baxter, when I was having a particularly bad day, and allowed man-servant, Jerry/Dad, to bring me food and ice.

Ronni and guard-cat Qiviut, have been diligent in keeping Mom safe from the dastardly red squirrel on the deck. That nasty intruder is NOT going to disturb Mom’s healing.

Mostly though, Nurse Rhonda has become a limpet, glued to my side and attentive to the smallest change in mood.

This is Rhonda at the end of week one – willing Mom to please feel better. 💗