Seasons Archives - Ambre Dawn Leffler

Baskets of Dove Fledglings

The ritual of May Day has all but faded into the past. The surprise baskets of flowers and treats hung from doorknobs is an intriguing idea. At the end of April I got a surprise that wasn’t exactly a basket but was definitely a treat. I noticed that one branch of the lemon tree was dragging on the ground. On closer look, I could see it had partially split from the trunk. A dove shot out of the tree as I walked around it to take pictures. I slowed down and started looking for a nest. Midway between roots and crown, I spotted a well-built shallow saucer. Not wanting to disturb potential residents, I held up my phone and blindly took some pictures. When I looked at my screen I saw two small feathered shapes wedged together. It was clear from their feathers that they weren’t yet ready to fly.

The yard crew was informed that they couldn’t touch the tree until the birds were out of the nest. I have a perfect view of the nest out my window and have been keeping track of their progress. It’s astonishing how quickly their feathers changed in just five days. What was a mottled dark grey-brown is now a smooth slate grey, much like the adult doves.

Blowing in The Wind

It is gusting at 40 miles per hour today. My cats are edgy. My heels are so dry, I could grate cheese with them. While I was cooking Valentine’s Day dinner a line of storm squalls moved right over my house. Squalls! In the desert! There was hail, then thunder, then lightning which flashed a vivid blue into the hallway. I hurried to get dinner in the oven in case the power went out. This February has been full of the strangest weather I have ever witnessed here in Arizona. Some days Phoenix has been colder than New York City. Flagstaff (a three-hours’ drive north) has been colder than Quebec.

One stormy morning I stepped out on the front porch to listen to birdsong. A Gila Woodpecker flew just above my forehead so fast, had I stuck out my hand I definitely would have been injured. I heard the whoosh of wind being displaced by the woodpecker’s body hurtling toward the west. Woodpeckers can fly at speeds between 20 and 30 mph. It is one thing to see birds in flight at a distance. Seeing and hearing this woodpecker up close gave me a new appreciation for the flight paths of birds in the sky.

Water Energy in Winter

It has been a month of water in abundance in the American southwest. Regions in California are getting more than they can handle, while here in Arizona I am grateful for every single drop and snowflake. Some reports say this is enough to lift us out of a severe drought. Others say it’s not enough. We won’t know until snowmelt how much of an impact the snowpack will have on significantly refilling our reservoirs and rivers.

Winter is the time for water energy according to the Five Element Theory of Chinese Traditional Medicine. Yin water is the deepest manifestation of the thinking process. It is the force of creation, the power of originality and creativity. Water’s superpower is flow. It moves with effortless progress, flowing around obstacles, gentle but all powerful.

I am using this time of water energy to listen quietly, nurture ideas for future projects, and let my creativity be fluid. Water carves its own path, and I am taking my cues from rivers and streams.

To read more about the water energy of winter click here: Use Water’s Superpower of Creative Flow.

Metal Energy and Falling Leaves

It is an interesting mix of Fall and Winter here. The leaves are in full Fall mode, changing colors and drifting down to earth. Driving through neighborhoods, the lemon yellows and plum reds seem as common as Fall in Boston Common. It is very unusual to see this much color. Japanese maples (Acer palmatum) and Chinese pistaches are signaling the weather like never before. At the same time, snow clouds are cruising above the trees on their way north and east.

In Chinese medicine this time of year is Metal energy, a time of clearing out anything that no longer serves us. This can be material things or less tangible things like emotions. Watching leaves drifting peacefully off their branches is a visual lesson from nature in learning to let go.

It is a busy time of year but I savor the quiet mornings to look out at the frost-covered roofs and steam rising from the pool. In these still moments I see only that which is right in front of me. I am free from things I don’t need.

The End of Blueberry Season

For two weeks in October I was at sea on a cruise in Canada and New England. We launched from Montreal, stopped for a day at Quebec City, and got soaked in Saguenay. From there it was on to Corner Brook, Newfoundland, Sydney and Halifax, Nova Scotia, and Saint John, New Brunswick. The ship set anchor in Bar Harbor, Maine and after a brisk ride in the tender I and my sister met the tour guide for the Ocean Trail walk.

We decided to stay in town for lunch. My sister had seen an advertisement for “The Best Blueberry Pie in Town” at a café on the pier but was disappointed to find that the café was out of blueberry pie. She picked an alternate while I walked to a mom-and-pop restaurant that had boxed lunch lobster roll. They also had beautiful wedges of pie heaped with blueberries. I ordered two slices.

We met up in the park overlooking the harbor. I savored the sweet lobster meat with the sun warming my face, a cool ocean breeze occasionally shifting my hair. The air was crisp and clean, so different from the smoggy stagnant air at home. I took a bite of blueberry pie and melted into the present moment of not-sweet-yet not-tart blueberries.

On the way back from a driving tour of Acadia National Park, we saw that the café was closed. Not just closed for the day. Closed for the season. We took the last tender of the day back to our ship on the last cruise of the season. In this era of everything-available-all-the-time, it restored my soul to connect with seasons and flavors that can only be enjoyed in the present. All five senses were engaged in reminders that everything in nature exists for a reason, at a specific time and place.

Bird Migration

It seems everyone is talking about migration this year. (In the context of my newsletter I mean bird migration.) During the pandemic many of us became more aware of birdsong in our neighborhoods. And we are more than ready for Fall, for a shift toward cozy time and the predictable rhythm of this particular season when so many things seem to be dissonant, off key with the harmony of the universe.

The Cornell Lab of Ornithology produces a map of real-time bird migration detected by the U.S. weather surveillance radar network. It shows the migration traffic rate in birds/km/hour from sunset to sunrise. In looking at the map, I now understand why I heard a bird hit my bedroom window in the early hours of the morning. I thought all birds were asleep, but the timing of the window thwack matches rush hour traffic for birds.

For someone who geeks out on weather radar maps, I love this tool. You can view it here: Live Bird Migration Map.

Equally intriguing is the bird migration forecast maps, created by Colorado State University and the Cornell Lab of Ornithology. The maps are updated every 6 hours, and I wonder if they’ve been adjusted for Hurricane Ian. It appears that way, judging by the precipitation swirl over the Carolinas. Click here to see for yourself: Bird Forecast Maps.

Bird migration is a tough endeavor on a clear day. I hope they have a safe journey, and that the humans are able to rebuild quickly and sustainably.

Birds in the Arts

“For the Birds” is a star-studded, 242-track collection of original songs, readings, and field recordings inspired by or incorporating birdsong. It is bundled as a 20-LP boxed set of artwork and music to benefit the National Audubon Society. You can read more about the project here: For the Birds: The Birdsong Project.

I also highly recommend The Lost Birds album, featuring Christopher Tin, VOCES8, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, and Barnaby Smith. For stunning video, liner notes, and an explanation of the project, visit Christopher Tin’s website The Lost Birds.

Happy bird watching and listening!

Monsoons and the Mulberry Tree

Today it is raining in the way I used to remember from the summer monsoons. Not the downpours following a crash of thunder, but a slow, steady rain that cools the hot desert air.

I’ve just returned from standing under the mulberry tree in the corner of my yard. Its branches had grown so long and heavy that they now touch the ground. Standing inside, it is a fort made of soft leaves and sturdy branches. All I can see is the screen of green surrounding me. Rain drops lightly patter against the leaves, a drumming that draws you in. Every third drop slips through the foliage umbrella, soaking through my shirt in a quarter-sized drop. After a week of 112 degree temperatures, the air is cool, sustaining, pleasant. My weather station says it is 85, a miracle in the desert.

Summer Reading List

I’ve put together a list of nature books that I’ll be diving into this summer. Some are new reads, and others I am revisiting.

The Book of Hope: A Survival Guide for Trying Times by Jane Goodall

The title says it all, and with Jane’s calm, steady voice this book is a balm to everything upside down in the world right now.

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom. Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer

I am savoring this book one essay at a time. Robin takes you on a journey of slowing down, communing with nature, and building a relationship with all living things.

The Peregrine by J. A. Baker

This is a classic of British nature writing, considered by Barry Lopez to be one of the most important books in twentieth century nature writing. Baker’s observations of peregrines visiting the Essex coast in winter are captured in daily essays that place you right there with the author.

The Shepherd’s Life: Modern Dispatches from an Ancient Landscape by James Rebanks

James is the first son of a shepherd, who was the first son of a shepherd. He chronicles a year in the life of a shepherd in the Lake District, sharing a deeply-rooted connection with the land

Sounds Wild and Broken: Sonic Marvels, Evolutionary Creativity, and the Crisis of Sensory Extinction by David George Haskell

In this highly anticipated book, Haskell traces animal songs and their evolution in their environments. He then tracks the evolution of human music and language. The last section highlights the erasure of sonic diversity and this impact on the world’s creativity.

Happy Groundhog Day!

Punxsutawny Phil saw his shadow…six more weeks of winter! Add an extra layer of blankets and pull on your coziest socks. Most people are likely not happy with this prediction. The east coast of the United States is getting slammed with another winter storm.

But I look at all that beautiful snow and think…no pollen! No allergies! (I say this in full acknowledgment that I don’t have to shovel snow or drive on ice.) This time of extended dormancy has a role in the natural world where all living beings are equipped to handle the weather.

Sadly, New Jersey native Milltown Mel passed away just before Groundhog Day. May he have a smooth journey across the Rainbow Bridge and a warm burrow waiting on the other side.

What’s Behind the Door?

This friendly gnome is just waiting to show you hidden treasures during each month in real-time. Things like fresh snow on the mountains, or a flock of geese heading south for the winter. Starting in February, check back to see what’s behind the door!