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After days of dull and murky weather, the sun was finally out and we were on our way to Point Reyes National Park which is rated among the top ten birding sites in US. It was a picturesque drive over curvy mountain passes and windswept cliffs, past lesser-known towns and peaceful lagoons. We crossed Point Reyes Station which has a frontier town appearance with its Wild West signage and headed towards the Bear Valley. A gust of cool gentle breeze welcomed me as I got down from the car. With a cup of hot tea warming us up, I began to stroll across the landscape. As I walked over the clumps of grass stalks which were still wet with the morning dew, I was immersed in a wide array of bird calls. Suddenly there was a distinctive long drawn trilling sound. It was like a raspy whistle. Eddie who was accompanying us whispered that it was the call of the Varied Thrush. In the words of the famed American ornithologist and illustrator, Fuertes “it is as perfectly the voice of the cool, dark, peaceful solitude which the bird chooses for its home as could be imagined". Varied thrushes are fairly shy birds which skulk in the shadows of the forest floor and can be quite difficult to spot. It can be especially tough to see one, since their gorgeous plumage is reminiscent of dappled sunlight or pumpkin-colored leaves on a forest floor. I wondered whether I would be able to have a glimpse of this wary bird. And there it was….its handsome plumage harmonizing so well with the fall landscape. It had a slate blue back and nape, an orange face, eyebrow, and breast with a black eye stripe and black necklace or breast band. With a flicker of its wings it was lurching forward, grasping leaves with its beak, turning them over to see what was hiding beneath as if it was searching for a lost key! It slowly tilted its head upwards and the sun played a colorful symphony on its feathers. There was a striking poise and a charming dignity in its demeanor. I tried to be as still as possible, still undecided as to whether I should photograph or paint it! The act of watching a bird is essentially negotiating a relationship between the observer and the observed. Thoreau said it eloquently “the more you look the less you will observe.” It is an immersive experience imbued with a sense of bewitchment and identification with something beyond one self. An experience often referred to as Eutierria : a feeling of oneness with nature and its life forces. It is a state of empathic attunement with nature. Ted Hughes once remarked that the secret of writing poetry is to ‘imagine what you are writing about. See it and live it … Just look at it, touch it, smell it, listen to it, turn yourself into it’. “The world is full of magic things,” said the poet W.B. Yeats, “patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” That night I looked at photograph of the varied thrush I’d taken, marveling at the bird’s beauty, each tiny feather on its back a masterpiece of color. It is through these fleeting experiences that I strive to discover the magical in nature through my photographs. . . 
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 Butterflies have always amazed me.
Their transformation from a wrinkled unremarkable caterpillar to a beautiful winged being is one of the most exquisite phenomenon in the natural world. While I was photographing butterflies in the Golden Gate Park, there was a mention in the arboretum that the migrating season of the monarch butterfly was just around the corner. When I started searching the net as to when and where I could have a glimpse of them, I discovered that monarchs west of the Rockies migrate to southern California to the eucalyptus trees of the Pacific Grove and surrounding areas and the Natural Bridges State Park is one of their preferred sites. Natural Bridges State Park, down the coast in Santa Cruz, which, though abutting the beach, is densely wooded and last week we spent some time exploring it. As we walked into the grove containing eucalyptus trees we were enveloped in a quivering mass of butterflies clinging onto the trees. At first I could not locate them, as they were so well camouflaged among the leaves and the barks of the trees. However I spotted them soon with some effort: bathed in the rays of the golden sun they were glowing like flickering flames. We trailed them like spies… I kept wondering as to what I should focus on….the brilliance of their color, the fluidity of their flight or their silent repose. Do they ever have a glimpse of their brilliant wings?! Every fall, North American monarchs fly south to spend the winter at roosting sites. They are the only butterflies to make such a long, two-way migration, flying up to 3000 miles in the fall to reach their winter destination. Amazingly, they fly in masses to the same winter roosts, often to the exact same trees! Their migration is much like birds or whales. However, unlike birds and whales, individuals only make the trip once. It is their children’s grandchildren that return south the following fall. Moreover unlike songbirds, which often migrate in the dark to elude predators, monarchs are limited to flying out in the open when it is sunny and warm enough for them, and not too windy. Once the ambient temperature drops, they become sluggish, unable to flap their wings. They are like marathoners tired from their long journey, eager for a patch of bark, or the branch of a tree on which to rest. Coming to think the complexities, skills and requirements of the long journey, it is more like a voyage to the moon! The annual migration of North America’s monarch butterfly is a truly unique and amazing phenomenon. Scientists have been striving to unravel this mystery. Researchers are still investigating what directional aids monarchs use to find their wintering location. It appears to be a combination of aids such as the magnetic pull of the earth and the position of the sun among others. The enigmatic, improbable, long-distance, multigenerational movement of monarchs is a living metaphor for our innate interconnectedness. They are inspirational symbols of strength, perseverance and resilience. If such small creatures can find and follow their purposeful path, so can each of us. Like monarch butterflies that have mysterious, hidden ways to determine and pursue their migratory routes, we as human beings also have the potential to discover the purpose and direction in our life journey. The monarchs bring us close to ourselves. We do harbor strong innate urges to migrate to our true inner selves. As a psychiatrist I facilitate this striving (in a small way), among my clients to discover their authentic, inner, resilient butterfly selves and urge them to never give up the quest for a path ahead . . . There is so much wisdom tucked inside the gossamer wings of the monarchs! Savor their company at: photos.app.goo.gl/JCtOU7gieASmIiLN2 Autumn is spectacular. Long ago in my student days I had read Sarojini Naidu’s eloquent description of it:
A golden storm of glittering sheaves, Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves… Fall marks a time of magnificent landscape changes in many parts of North America and I was keen to partake of its beauty during a recent visit there. The drive along upstate New York was magical with trees lining the roads wrapped in golden hues. Along the way, we spent some time at the Lake Taghkanic State Park and Bowdain Park. Albert Camus described autumn as “a second spring when every leaf is a flower”. What opulent bouquets the leaves of autumn do create, from brown and red to orange and yellow! This vibrant cluster of leaves constantly changes hue through the different colors of the autumn season, from brown and red to orange and yellow. It’s a gorgeous palette of every of color that nature can think of. The trees were wrapped in golden hues with a backdrop that’s so perfect, as if the landscape was posing for a picture. It is tempting to think of autumn in static frames captured through the lens of the camera. But it is only a passing phase.. With winter around the corner the trees will face punishingly cold temperatures and frigid winds, conditions that would damage the leaves. Hence the trees have to pare themselves to their toughest parts; stems, trunks and branches. Leaves must fall. As I watch leaves fluttering to the ground, I wonder whether these cycles of nature are mirrored in our lives. Our lives also have cycles. There are times we hold on to, and there are the times that we have to learn to let go. When we do let go of the things, we also make room for new things to enter our lives. But, while it seems beautiful for the trees to let go of all those lovely leaves, we rarely think of the letting go in our own lives as being beautiful. Often, we simply view it through the lens of loss. It hurts to let go, so we hold on, even if all we have left to hold onto are our memories of those feelings. Autumn reminds us of the impermanence of everything. We have experienced the budding of life in spring and the flowerings and profusions of summer. Now the leaves fall and bare branches remain. Thoreau said it eloquently: “Nature now, like an athlete, begins to strip herself in earnest for her contest with her great antagonist winter. In the bare trees and twigs what a display of muscle.” The trees will stand erect, ready for a renewal. There is a wonderful story of spiritual masters in Tibet who used to set their teacups upside down before they went to bed each night as a reminder that all life was impermanent. And then, when they awoke each morning, they turned their teacups right side up again with the happy thought, 'I'm still here!' This simple gesture was a wonderful reminder to celebrate every moment of the day. Autumn leaves are a sight to see, Adorning every tree In hues of orange and gold Falling gently on the ground Forming elegant iridescent carpets. . . Take a minute to appreciate the beauty of fall foliage by scrolling through these photos at: photos.app.goo.gl/kfWYToY1ImW5zlbR2 |
Dr Raguram
Someone who keeps exploring beyond the boundaries of everyday life to savor and share those unforgettable moments.... Archives
May 2024
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