According to my technology, I've walked 3,122.28 miles this year. The disintegration of several pairs of shoes now makes so much more sense. I recently bought an expensive pair of hiking boots though, so hopefully my next shoe purchase will be far in the future.

Oh, how many steps are in 3,122.28 miles? Apparently 6,132,771.

When I wasn't walking, I was reading.

This coming year, I vow to watch more films. I've been neglecting to do that lately. I've been plowing through a Werner Herzog box set during the annual pause between Christmas and the new year, so I'm off to a good start even before the ball drops.

Maybe I'll write more too. I feel like I've at least blown the dust off this site. The spiders can stay though. I never kick out spiders.

This report announced the disappearance of nearly a third of all North American birds. I think about this little Hermit Thrush and the journeys it makes as it migrates back and forth between its wintering grounds and its breeding grounds. I'm not sure if it makes the journey between our yard and somewhere in Canada or Alaska, or if it merely flies due east into the midwest during the summer, but either way, it makes quite a journey. The Audubon Society predicts that the effects of climate change will cause this species to lose 71% of its range (and gain 18% to the north) for a net loss of 53%.

Hang in there, little bird.

Solstice

In roughly three hours, the pendulum starts swinging into the light again. Our Solstice day was marked by the first sighting of the Hermit Thrush that calls our yard home during the cold months. Last winter, I struggled to identify it as it lurked in the foliage. This year, with a few seasons of obsessive birdwatching under my belt, identification is rarely a problem.

Writing though, apparently is. I've more or less abandoned this site over the past year, preferring instead to spend my free time reading, listening to music, and taking pictures of birds.

Consider this yet another attempt to resurrect this site. It helps that I have the next two weeks off.

Happy Solstice, hypothetical reader. Let's swing into the light yet again.

A Sign of Life, Plus Rain

It's a rainy Sunday in January after a rainy week at work dealing with a tree hitting a power line and knocking out our power and finding out that the backup generator is broken, witnessing a tree hit a kid on the head (fortunately it was a small tree and the kid, after complaining of pain and dizziness, seemed none the worse for wear), and walking into work up the aptly named Heartbreak Hill the day afterward because the road was still full of tree and snapped power lines. The power ended up being completely out for around 23 hours. Some of my coworkers were stuck at work, while others were stuck away from work. We carried on though, and other than being a bit colder and wetter than they might have been otherwise, the kids didn't really even notice all of the chaos going on behind the scenes.

On the flip side of things, the week before I got some (admittedly far off and poor quality) shots of the Bald Eagle that may or may not now live up by the reservoir. Our old director mentioned that she'd seen one up there a couple of years ago, so it might indeed be a return visitor. It's nice to have any sort of wildlife success story (December marks the first time I'd ever seen a Bald Eagle in the area) in our current chaotic day and age.

I've been really getting into birding lately, so this was a bit of a treat. This particular bird was sitting on a branch way up in a tall tree on the far side of the reservoir.

I notice that it has been around 5 months since my last post here. My writing in this format has pretty much ground to a halt, mostly because I burned out and simply got out of the habit of doing this. Consider this an attempt to struggle back into some sort of regular writing schedule. If you don't hear from me for months, it's because I have failed.