This was the week between the two Black Mountain HETH Study trips. It was full of dance rehearsals, since Olivia and I had a dance concert on the 11 and 12 of June.
Sunday, June 12:
The last dance concert was bittersweet, because Olivia and I are very close with the dance instructor and other students in our class. Our teacher started crying after the three seniors in our class--Olivia, Josh (who went to Millbrook with me and O), and I--performed our senior piece that we choreographed. We all gave her a fierce, strong group hug in which we said unspoken goodbyes while recognizing our love for each other. After the concert Josh, Olivia, and I went to the house of our fellow classmate, Kerri. I enjoyed hanging out at her house with her big, hilarious family. Olivia and I left Kerri's house at about 6:45pm.
This was a horrendously historic day in the United States. At about 2am Sunday morning, the worst mass shooting in US history occurred at a gay nightclub in Orlando, Florida. This crime of hatred and terror was carried out by a proclaimed Muslim and resulted in the deaths of forty nine people and the injuries of many others.
Josh told us about a vigil taking place at a popular gay nightclub in Raleigh, Legends, at 8:00. Olivia and I, along with our dad, went to mourn the deaths of so many people.
The vigil was in the club's parking lot. It was filled with people of all backgrounds and identities holding candles and pride flags. The leader of Raleigh's LGBTQ community spoke first, already choked up. As he spoke, a man in front of me wearing a cross broke out into muffled sobs and went to the back of the group. A Muslim man spoke next, saying that he and other true Muslims stood with their brothers and sisters and mourned this loss of human life. He mentioned the Quran, in which God says killing a man hurts all of humanity, and that this slaughter of innocent people has done exactly that. By saying that, I felt that he connected us to others in our county and world who were suffering after this crime. Simultaneously, he was acknowledging the pain felt by the Muslim community that a man had harmed others in the name of his idea of Islam, an idea that was contrary to beliefs of the majority of Muslims.
The LGBTQ leader came up again, saying that he had written a speech that he knew he wasn't going to get through. He talked about how gay nightclubs are a safe haven for the LGBTQ community, and anyone who doesn't consider clubs or bars to be havens does not have to worry about holding their partner's hand in public. I found that point to be particularly powerful, because it openly recognized the privilege that many straight people take for granted. He thanked Legends and its co-owners for letting them use their space. He said that the LGBTQ community was about acceptance and was very tight knit, and that this attack made a vulnerable community even more vulnerable. Other vigils might be silent and sad, but, "Fuck that!" he yelled, resulting in a roar of clapping and cheers. He defiantly stated that we would be loud, proud, and strong (more cheers). To all those who lost their lives in the attack, "rest in
power." We took a moment of quiet to honor the people lost in this shooting, and then he said he was going to read the names of the victims that
have been released, and apologized if he mispronounced any of them. He
read the names and ages of about ten men, many of whom were Hispanic. This was when the crying really began. Tears began to slip down my face and I heard the quiet sobs of others, saw gay and straight
couples clutching each other, comforting each other. Most of the known victims
were between 21 and 23, although there were two people who were in their
mid-thirties. We were all trying to understand that these
young people are gone, and knew that their families feel lost and desperate and they are
suffering. The speaker acknowledged the victims' families, saying that
our thoughts and prayers are with them. Another Muslim speaker spoke
afterward, offering the insight of his religion on how to deal with
grief. He asked us to close our eyes and breathe. I struggled to
breathe normally, still feeling the throat and lung tightness of crying. He asked us to breathe deeply, and feel our breath fill
us. Among other things, he asked us to raise our arms slightly to touch
the people beside us and join with them in our sadness. I patted my dad's arm, who was standing near me. He asked us to feel the space within our
chests, which holds our hearts. It was beautiful, how he made all of us
feel peaceful and quiet and full of a grief and silence that united us.
Nobody clapped when he was finished; we offered him silent gratitude to reflect
the atmosphere of quiet mourning that he created.
A former Pulse employee was there, speaking softly and with inexplicable shock and grief as he said, "That is my family. Pulse is my
family." He explained the accepting and progressive neighborhood
that surrounds the club, the atmosphere of unity it created, and his shock when
he woke up to a nightmarish massacre violating his safety and family.
God, I felt pain for him.
At the end of the vigil, a flock of white doves were released, flying above
an ocean of unity, love, pride flags, mourning, and shock. They were
beautiful, but more gorgeous still was the song that arose and took flight
after the birds alighted. "Somewhere / Over the rainbow / Way up
high . . ." It started slowly, just a murmur of emotion from the
group's center, then rose in volume as we all began to sing. It was an incredible moment of solidarity and strength in a time of
atrocious violence and horror. I hope to never forget it.
We were all encouraged to mingle after that. Olivia and I said goodbye
to Josh, looking at each other with eyes full of gratitude, sadness, and love
as he thanked us for coming. As we walked out of the parking lot, we saw
two of my favorite people from Governor's School East last year. Although I was very happy to see and talk to them, I wish the circumstances had been different.
Monday, July 4, 2016
Day 11: June 5, 2016
Day 3 of Black Mountains Hermit Thrush Study
I got four points on HETH 1 today! John came with me to help with the first one, which we had to really estimate. Then he went to the rock outcropping where we caught HETH 1 (aka 0.615 which is the end of the male's transmitter frequency). I tracked the bird toward the outcropping until I saw John, and then I headed north down the mountain slope, away from the trail and John. John then radioed me and asked where the bird was; up or down. I swung the receiver vertically and responded "Up." John said that he had just seen a thrush-like bird fly high into a hardwood near me, and that must have been my bird!
After twenty minutes of waiting (that's the adjustment time needed for a bird to go back to his/her normal behavior), I went tracking again. This time, I saw the bird when John approached. Before he flushed 0.615, though, I saw an unbanded thrush fly by. Perhaps that was HETH 1's female?
For the last point, I tracked 0.615 west, following the contour of the ridge. Then the bird took me up the slope (south). I saw a thrush fly southwest, but it wasn't HETH 1 because the receiver did not beep differently. It was probably his female again. I tried to carefully go toward where the bird had flown away. I stood there for a minute, pointing the antenna southwest where the signal was faintly coming from. Then, suddenly, the beeping blew up, getting so loud I looked up. In less than a second, I absorbed the image of HETH 1 fluttering over a dead tree that was split open, the tree's beautiful honey-rust inner wood exposed. The thrush was holding a big, thick, dark insect like the one John and I had seen when we caught 0.615. Then he flew away, out of sight through a thicket of young red spruce. I stood there, open-mouthed, and then marked the point and recorded my observations. Whoop whoop! A visual for my fourth point of the day!
We stopped telemetry halfway through the day due to rain. We drove up to the Mt. Mitchell Museum, which houses all kinds of cool natural and social history about Mt. Mitchell and the Black Mountains.
Cool Things Seen during Telemetry:
I got four points on HETH 1 today! John came with me to help with the first one, which we had to really estimate. Then he went to the rock outcropping where we caught HETH 1 (aka 0.615 which is the end of the male's transmitter frequency). I tracked the bird toward the outcropping until I saw John, and then I headed north down the mountain slope, away from the trail and John. John then radioed me and asked where the bird was; up or down. I swung the receiver vertically and responded "Up." John said that he had just seen a thrush-like bird fly high into a hardwood near me, and that must have been my bird!
After twenty minutes of waiting (that's the adjustment time needed for a bird to go back to his/her normal behavior), I went tracking again. This time, I saw the bird when John approached. Before he flushed 0.615, though, I saw an unbanded thrush fly by. Perhaps that was HETH 1's female?
For the last point, I tracked 0.615 west, following the contour of the ridge. Then the bird took me up the slope (south). I saw a thrush fly southwest, but it wasn't HETH 1 because the receiver did not beep differently. It was probably his female again. I tried to carefully go toward where the bird had flown away. I stood there for a minute, pointing the antenna southwest where the signal was faintly coming from. Then, suddenly, the beeping blew up, getting so loud I looked up. In less than a second, I absorbed the image of HETH 1 fluttering over a dead tree that was split open, the tree's beautiful honey-rust inner wood exposed. The thrush was holding a big, thick, dark insect like the one John and I had seen when we caught 0.615. Then he flew away, out of sight through a thicket of young red spruce. I stood there, open-mouthed, and then marked the point and recorded my observations. Whoop whoop! A visual for my fourth point of the day!
We stopped telemetry halfway through the day due to rain. We drove up to the Mt. Mitchell Museum, which houses all kinds of cool natural and social history about Mt. Mitchell and the Black Mountains.
Cool Things Seen during Telemetry:
- Female Blackburnian on the ground (same one from yesterday) carrying a single strand of grass, so fine I could hardly see it. Though I watched her for a bit, I couldn't see where she had flown to her nest.
- I saw a Veery as we were driving to the bird study site, which was a cool lifer. Their song is beautiful and almost metallic, and Edward and John describe it as two downward spirals.
- Fiery-orange azalea that I knew Mama would love
- Small rainbow that disappeared after my first few photos. As it dissolved into the sky, its glowing particles fading like mist, I got "Shine" by the Avett Brothers (an NC band I absolutely love) in my head. If you know the song, you also know it's quite fitting for the moment.
- Mountain laurel, sometimes pale white, others blushing pink
Day 10: June 4, 2016
Day 2 of Black Mountains Hermit Thrush Study
I woke up at 5:30, a more usual time to get up for bird work. By 6:30 my group was heading out to the trail. I worked with the first Hermit Thrush that we caught yesterday, the one that first arrived with food in his mouth. I was really excited to figure out where he was hanging out and see if I could find his nest. Telemetry is essentially just horizontally waving around a receiver that looks like a lightning rod and hearing how loud it beeps when you point it in different directions. If it beeps loudly to the left, the bird is to the left. Once you get relatively close to the bird, within 25 meters, it is useful to turn the gain down so that the beeping is not so loud. If the gain is not turned down, then it seems like it is beeping from all directions, but it becomes softer and more attuned if you turn the gain down. A good way to attune the receiver is to tilt it at an angle. It is helpful to swish the receiver vertically to see if the bird is in a tree or on the ground. Once the bird is seen or you can determine the bird's location within about 10 meters, a GPS is used to mark the point. A data sheet is used to record the coordinates (in case the GPS gets lost or damaged, the coordinates will still be known), vegetation, any notes about behavior if the bird was seen or heard, the time the bird's location was known (observation time), among other information.
Telemetry Tips:
I woke up at 5:30, a more usual time to get up for bird work. By 6:30 my group was heading out to the trail. I worked with the first Hermit Thrush that we caught yesterday, the one that first arrived with food in his mouth. I was really excited to figure out where he was hanging out and see if I could find his nest. Telemetry is essentially just horizontally waving around a receiver that looks like a lightning rod and hearing how loud it beeps when you point it in different directions. If it beeps loudly to the left, the bird is to the left. Once you get relatively close to the bird, within 25 meters, it is useful to turn the gain down so that the beeping is not so loud. If the gain is not turned down, then it seems like it is beeping from all directions, but it becomes softer and more attuned if you turn the gain down. A good way to attune the receiver is to tilt it at an angle. It is helpful to swish the receiver vertically to see if the bird is in a tree or on the ground. Once the bird is seen or you can determine the bird's location within about 10 meters, a GPS is used to mark the point. A data sheet is used to record the coordinates (in case the GPS gets lost or damaged, the coordinates will still be known), vegetation, any notes about behavior if the bird was seen or heard, the time the bird's location was known (observation time), among other information.
Telemetry Tips:
- If the bird is singing and you mark a point on the GPS, then try to find the bird twenty minutes later and he is still singing, just extend the observation time and make a note.
- Know the species' behavior so that you can mark the approximate point without a visual. I didn't get a single point after two hours of crashing around in the forest and then forty-five minutes trying to find the trail because I wanted a visual. I had to get over the fact that, especially with elusive Hermit Thrushes, a visual is not common.
- Look around as you track the bird so that you can take a relatively easy, quite path through the woods in the bird's direction.
- Canada Warbler was a lifer! After ungracefully trouncing through the woods for thirty minutes, this beautiful male Canada Warbler approached me. He "chucked" at me, cocking his little blue-gray head with his daffodil-yellow eye ring and bare throat heavy with a necklace of dainty black drops. I spished (a "shhhppshppshhh" sound that birders do to call in and rile up birds) and he came closer. He was at eye-level and was only about a meter away!
- Smooth rock tripe is an edible fungus-type creature that lives on the enormous boulders in the Black Mountains
- A Blackburnian Warbler female was on the ground near the fallen-down shed that sits by the trail. She was quite close to me and my group as we watched her, pausing our walk up the trail to our van. We couldn't figure out why she was on the ground since she didn't seem to be picking anything up.
- The view from both sides of the overlook, which we visited after a day of fieldwork, was spectacular. I saw clouds lilting in the coves and valleys of the Black Mountains as a male Ruby-throated Hummingbird displayed to his female. The hummingbirds do their courtship displays by flying in a very shallow U-shape in front of their prospective mates, flashing their metallic crimson throats. A male Blackburnian was foraging nearby, his throat shining like a sunset with a red-orange center. I saw a male Indigo Bunting fly into his mate from behind, causing a scuffle a whir of feathers and bodies into the long grass and out of sight. They were done copulating in less than fifteen seconds, and we all made a couple of suggestive jokes, laughing. Lastly, a Red-breasted Nuthatch alighted on the very tip-top of a Red Spruce tree, "singing" his gruff alarm-clock call for about a minute.
- At 9:00 pm, a chorus of more than a hundred fireflies began shining their lights. They looked like bits of shattered glass, not calm or soothing but flashing their fiery orbs in erratic and slightly rhythmic bursts.
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