Man Filmed a Tree In The Woods For a Year and Captured Things Most People Will Never See
Music - "Have You Ever," by Brandi Carlile (Cover By Angela Lupinacci)
The video comes from a new project called ‘Forestbeat’, launched by photographers Bruno D’Amicis and Umberto Esposito. After the discovery of the ancient venerable beech forest within the territory of Italy’s National Park of Abruzzo, Lazio and Molise, the team have sought to spread awareness of the area to the general public.
...and celebrating the lack of chemicals Shortly
after we first bought our house many years ago, a lawn care specialist came by (unsolicited) and gave us an assessment of our front yard. He pointed out the mixture of
grasses along with a number of weeds that grew there. He offered, for a fee, to spray the lawn with fertilizer to enhance
the grass and chemicals to eliminate the weeds. My philosophy then and now was
that if it is green and can be mowed, you have a perfectly fine lawn. That philosophy also fit in with my very
small checking account, so I politely declined the young man’s offer.
Yesterday I had
the day off and decided to sit on the front porch to enjoy the sunny 50-degree
weather outside (unusual for the end of January). There were sparrows, finches and chickadees at the feeder, with a
mourning dove and a grey squirrel scrounging for sunflower seeds that had dropped
to the ground. After a few minutes a
towhee casually made its way along the ground, not 12 feet from where I sat,
searching and sifting among the clover and dandelions. It was at that moment as
I watched the russet-breasted towhee wandering amidst the varied growth in the yard that
I was reminded of one big reason why I don’t want to pour chemicals on the lawn. There is a world of wildlife – even here in
the city – that should have a chemical free place to live. The joys that come from
those encounters with our furry and feathered friends help me to celebrate the
lack of chemicals on the lawn.
I could go
on to lament the fact that so many of those chemicals which enhance our lawns
end up as toxins in the groundwater, but the foraging towhee stands out as
reason enough to let things be.
(Photos of the Eastern Towhee are courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)
Growing up in rural
Alabama, there was an abundance of wildlife. One could see foxes, raccoons, possums,
deer, and all kinds of birds. I still remember the startling effect of walking
along the road or through the woods and coming upon a covey of quail. All was quiet,
with no visible indicators of the well-camouflaged fowl until you came right up
on them. Then they would suddenly rise to the sky with a chorus of shouts.
We also had box turtles in the woodland area where I grew
up. There was a subspecies of the common box turtle which was brown in color
and quite docile in nature. They made good pets and would thrive on earthworms,
crawfish, and berries that we would collect to feed our hard shelled guests. Then
there was the eastern box turtle which were dark – almost black in color – with
yellow speckles. It was perhaps more attractive or dramatic in appearance, but
was also less amenable to captivity. Eastern box turtles might snap, and they
were much more reluctant to come out of their shell in the presence of humans.
There was this one time when my little brother had come upon
an eastern box turtle, or maybe it was our Dad who found the critter in the garden. At any rate, the creature was brought home to keep as a
pet. This turtle, true to his nature,
did not like to be handled and would stay closed up in his shell for a span of
time in which any dog or little boy would ordinarily lose interest and go on
their way. Probably a great survival strategy.
One day my little brother came into the house and announced
that he thought his turtle was from Ireland. Why did he think the turtle was
from Ireland, you may ask, as did I. “Because,” my brother explained, “You
know how he doesn’t like to come out of his shell? Well, I discovered that if
you sing ‘My Wild Irish Rose’ he will come right on out of his shell and walk
around.”
[I may need to throw in a side bar here to explain why my
brother was out singing My Wild Irish Rose to a turtle. This was when Mitch
Miller had a popular TV show, “Sing Along with Mitch.” Mitch had his orchestra
and an all male chorus that would gleefully sing songs from the Great American
Songbook, mostly songs that harked back to the romantic nostalgia of the Gay
Nineties. For younger readers, "Gay Nineties" refers to the 1890s – a period in American history which was noted for being a
brief respite of prosperity and celebration that was then halted by World War I
(much like the “roaring twenties” was stopped by the Great Depression). Our Dad had bought an LP of Sing-Along-with-Mitch
on which ‘My Wild Irish Rose’ was one of the numbers.]
But I digress. I have to say that, being the older brother, I was
skeptical of my brother's story about his turtle coming from Ireland. “Well come on out and I’ll show you!” my brother said. We went out,
he took the turtle and placed him under a tree where the creature remained firmly
ensconced in his shell. Then my brother began singing ‘My Wild Irish Rose,’ and
sure enough, the turtle poked his head out and then began to walk around the
yard.
I must say that I was impressed. My brother and I even began
to speculate as to how that box turtle might have gotten here all the way from
Ireland. It is, of course, funny to look
back on it, recalling the imagination, assumptions and speculations of
children. The incident does beg the question, however, of the power of music. What was it that we experienced? Was it the
influence of melody, the result of certain tonic vibrations, or just plain coincidence?
And Just in case you haven't heard Mitch Miller and the Gang, or 'My Wild Irish Rose,' her it is on You Tube:
Yesterday I had
the day off and decided to sit on the front porch to enjoy the sunny 50-degree
weather outside (unusual for the end of January). There were sparrows, finches and chickadees at the feeder, with a
mourning dove and a grey squirrel scrounging for sunflower seeds that had dropped
to the ground. After a few minutes a
towhee casually made its way along the ground, not 12 feet from where I sat,
searching and sifting among the clover and dandelions. It was at that moment as
I watched the russet-breasted towhee wandering amidst the varied growth in the yard that
I was reminded of one big reason why I don’t want to pour chemicals on the lawn. There is a world of wildlife – even here in
the city – that should have a chemical free place to live. The joys that come from
those encounters with our furry and feathered friends help me to celebrate the
lack of chemicals on the lawn. 
We also had box turtles in the woodland area where I grew
up. There was a subspecies of the common box turtle which was brown in color
and quite docile in nature. They made good pets and would thrive on earthworms,
crawfish, and berries that we would collect to feed our hard shelled guests. Then
there was the eastern box turtle which were dark – almost black in color – with
yellow speckles. It was perhaps more attractive or dramatic in appearance, but
was also less amenable to captivity. Eastern box turtles might snap, and they
were much more reluctant to come out of their shell in the presence of humans. 
[I may need to throw in a side bar here to explain why my
brother was out singing My Wild Irish Rose to a turtle. This was when Mitch
Miller had a popular TV show, “Sing Along with Mitch.” Mitch had his orchestra
and an all male chorus that would gleefully sing songs from the Great American
Songbook, mostly songs that harked back to the romantic nostalgia of the Gay
Nineties. For younger readers, "Gay Nineties" refers to the 1890s – a period in American history which was noted for being a
brief respite of prosperity and celebration that was then halted by World War I
(much like the “roaring twenties” was stopped by the Great Depression). Our Dad had bought an LP of Sing-Along-with-Mitch
on which ‘My Wild Irish Rose’ was one of the numbers.]
