you’d come around sooner or later.”
Marsh rubbed his cheek on the corner of the diary as if to say hello to Aunt Cora.
“I’ll take care of him, Aunt Cora,” Lauren said out loud before adding, “Even if he is a pain in the butt.”
Marsh looked proud of making an effort and he settled at the foot of the bed to give himself a bath.
Lauren looked back at the diary and began to read.
The cottage is much quieter than I imagined it would be. It sits back from the main road so there are no sounds of traffic. Except for the birds of course. The birds are plentiful here. There are over 300 species in the area along with a diversity of mammals.
Although most of the seasonal marshes are dry in summer, they become carpets of green after seasonal rains drench them in the spring.
The refuge is struggling to stay open because of lack of funding. I shudder when I imagine Hayley’s Point without it…
My great-grandfather built the cottage and it has been passed down through the generations ever since. When my parents died, it was passed down to me. After college I decided to live here full time. When I was a little girl I used to dream of living here and now it’s a reality…
It’s always been referred to as birdwatching, but I prefer the term birding because birdwatching doesn’t include the auditory aspects of enjoying birds. And enjoy them I do. Watching them brings me peacefulness like I’ve never been able to find before.
The most spectacular concentrations of waterfowl on the continent are found here. Many of the ducks and geese that winter here are from Alaska and the Canadian arctic. Waterfowl numbers on the refuge exceed two million by December after other areas to the north become frozen. Half of the Pacific Flyway’s waterfowl population winters here.
I’m amazed at how these birds make such an amazing journey each year while I have never set foot outside of the state of California. To them the voyage is just instinct imprinted on their DNA…
When the sunlight grew dim, Lauren flicked on the lamp by the bed. She looked out the window and noticed it was dark outside. The afternoon had shifted into night without her even knowing.
Reading her aunt’s flowery writing was like jumping back in time, yet everything was eerily familiar. The way she described the cottage, the birds... It was exactly how Lauren saw the cottage and the surrounding area. The only difference was that she was reading about it through her aunt’s perspective.
She didn’t have to think too hard to imagine a young woman, fresh out of college, moving to the cottage and living here. Aunt Cora’s story mirrored her own and helped push the loneliness away.
The first thing I did upon arrival at the cottage was put a birdfeeder up in the backyard. By the next morning, it was empty. The birds chirp to each other across the trees and I’m reminded of how alone I am…
After years of photographing birds for fun, I’ve decided to take my hobby to the next step. I took a job at the newspaper today, writing a column in the Lifestyle section of the Red Valley Times.
The drive to the newspaper in Red Valley is a bit of a commute , but luckily I only have to drive in once a week to submit my column. I’m glad to have the freedom of freelancing and setting my own hours.
The editor has given me the green light to feature a different bird each week in my column. I can’t wait to photograph a golden eagle and write about how they soar on thermals and can dive at speeds up to 200 miles per hour.
Everyone who works at the newspaper office is friendly. The Red Valley Times is owned by Howie Langdon of Langdon Enterprises and he seems like a nice man…
It seems misleading to call what I do a job. All I do is observe the wildlife in the area, snap a few pictures and write about them. The only difference now is that I’m being paid for doing it…
A house is being built next door. The land has sat vacant for
Marsh rubbed his cheek on the corner of the diary as if to say hello to Aunt Cora.
“I’ll take care of him, Aunt Cora,” Lauren said out loud before adding, “Even if he is a pain in the butt.”
Marsh looked proud of making an effort and he settled at the foot of the bed to give himself a bath.
Lauren looked back at the diary and began to read.
The cottage is much quieter than I imagined it would be. It sits back from the main road so there are no sounds of traffic. Except for the birds of course. The birds are plentiful here. There are over 300 species in the area along with a diversity of mammals.
Although most of the seasonal marshes are dry in summer, they become carpets of green after seasonal rains drench them in the spring.
The refuge is struggling to stay open because of lack of funding. I shudder when I imagine Hayley’s Point without it…
My great-grandfather built the cottage and it has been passed down through the generations ever since. When my parents died, it was passed down to me. After college I decided to live here full time. When I was a little girl I used to dream of living here and now it’s a reality…
It’s always been referred to as birdwatching, but I prefer the term birding because birdwatching doesn’t include the auditory aspects of enjoying birds. And enjoy them I do. Watching them brings me peacefulness like I’ve never been able to find before.
The most spectacular concentrations of waterfowl on the continent are found here. Many of the ducks and geese that winter here are from Alaska and the Canadian arctic. Waterfowl numbers on the refuge exceed two million by December after other areas to the north become frozen. Half of the Pacific Flyway’s waterfowl population winters here.
I’m amazed at how these birds make such an amazing journey each year while I have never set foot outside of the state of California. To them the voyage is just instinct imprinted on their DNA…
When the sunlight grew dim, Lauren flicked on the lamp by the bed. She looked out the window and noticed it was dark outside. The afternoon had shifted into night without her even knowing.
Reading her aunt’s flowery writing was like jumping back in time, yet everything was eerily familiar. The way she described the cottage, the birds... It was exactly how Lauren saw the cottage and the surrounding area. The only difference was that she was reading about it through her aunt’s perspective.
She didn’t have to think too hard to imagine a young woman, fresh out of college, moving to the cottage and living here. Aunt Cora’s story mirrored her own and helped push the loneliness away.
The first thing I did upon arrival at the cottage was put a birdfeeder up in the backyard. By the next morning, it was empty. The birds chirp to each other across the trees and I’m reminded of how alone I am…
After years of photographing birds for fun, I’ve decided to take my hobby to the next step. I took a job at the newspaper today, writing a column in the Lifestyle section of the Red Valley Times.
The drive to the newspaper in Red Valley is a bit of a commute , but luckily I only have to drive in once a week to submit my column. I’m glad to have the freedom of freelancing and setting my own hours.
The editor has given me the green light to feature a different bird each week in my column. I can’t wait to photograph a golden eagle and write about how they soar on thermals and can dive at speeds up to 200 miles per hour.
Everyone who works at the newspaper office is friendly. The Red Valley Times is owned by Howie Langdon of Langdon Enterprises and he seems like a nice man…
It seems misleading to call what I do a job. All I do is observe the wildlife in the area, snap a few pictures and write about them. The only difference now is that I’m being paid for doing it…
A house is being built next door. The land has sat vacant for
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