A reminder of how soul-restoring a simple walk can be

Avalon Pond, Everett Crowley Park.

So I'm sitting at home, looking out the window at the birds flitting about at the numerous feeders in 
our yard, with two of our three parrots sitting on me...at the same time, I'm scrolling through the Facebook newsfeed on my iPhone.

I come upon a post in a group I belong to, "The Best Reasons for You to Walk in a Park," by Erin Acton. Now it turns out Wednesday was "National Take a Walk in a Park Day" (yes, there is such a day, I looked it up, there are plenty of websites dedicated to the topic.) I start reading the blog post, watching her video, and it start to resonate with me.

I'd been having a bad week, no, make that a bad week-and-a-half up to that point, one of those weeks where nothing seems to work or go one's way. It was starting to get depressing. But Erin's well-sourced suggestions about how a walk in nature, getting out in nature, can really help alleviate stress, struck a chord in me.

Not that I didn't know that already, but it's like I needed a nudge, a reminder, that taking a few hours out of the day to go for a walk, aside from the physical health benefits, offers larger benefits for the soul.

It's like I forgot what Henry David Thoreau wrote in his treatise, "Walking" on the matter:

“I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day, at least... sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements."

Thoreau and Emerson had it right.

Again, it's not like I was re-inventing the wheel; I just had to decided enough was enough, I needed to get out and get some fresh air, a bit of exercise (which I'd been neglecting the past several days for a variety of reasons), and commune with nature, albeit in an urban setting.

So I packed up my camera and tripod, and headed off to Everett Crowley Park, a 40-hectare park barely a five-minute drive from where I live, less than 500 metres from busy SE Marine Drive in Vancouver. I've been there before, but hadn't visited since 2008.

It has changed a little; there is an additional trail that has been cut, parallel to an existing one. One of the things I do remember is a lookout along the Vista Trail, which provides a view of the Fraser River, less than a kilometre to the south. When I was last there eight or nine years ago, that portion of the river was all trees and other greenery; it's now all buildings and development along the shoreline. A bit sad, since I don't necessarily agree that's "progress." So far, the walk wasn't really lifting my spirits as I'd hoped it might.

But, I persisted on and a few minutes later down the trail, the magic of nature started to re-emerge.

I heard a woodpecker hammering away on a tree nearby. I located it, high overhead. Then I heard a chirping in the brush near the trail, the unmistakable sound of a hummingbird. Never managed to spot it, though.

Then still higher overhead, a hawk glided by, returning in the opposite direction a few minutes later.

Further along the trail, off to the left about 30 metres away sat a hawk on a tree branch. Of course, the bird flew away before I could get set up to shoot some photos, but it was still magical.

Eventually, I made my way over to Avalon Pond at the northeast corner of the park. There were always ducks there - usually mallards - and I'd even seen a heron there, once, high up in a tree.

The mallards were there...and so were a pair of mated buffleheads.

A male bufflehead patrols the pond.

Buffleheads are really cool diving ducks. Smaller than mallards and very unique looking. Plus, it's just a cool word to say - "bufflehead."

 Try it. Say it out loud a few times. It almost sounds like the kind of insulting name Bugs Bunny would call Daffy Duck in the old Loony Tunes cartoons.

But it's not - it's the common name for Bucephala albeola. A friend of mine calls them "saddle shoe ducks," which gives you an idea of what they look like, if you didn't already know.

Anyway, I tried shooting some photos and video from a trail that ran alongside the pond, then found a spot at one end where I could sit down a log, set up my tripod in an easy-access position and took the better part of an hour watching them swim and dive back and forth among the mallards. I even got a few good shots.

The mallards always seem friendly at Avalon.

Letting go, breathing - really breathing - I could feel a sense of peace and perspective start to take root in my being. I noticed some of the songbirds flitting about in the bushes around me. I spotted several hummingbirds and out of the corner of my eye a larger bird dodging about in the hardwoods 50 yards away (maybe a pileated woodpecker?)

That two hours I spent did wonders for me - other responsibilities kept me from a four-hour sojourn as Dr. Thoreau prescribed - got me back on the rail properly, which I was in danger of falling off (and with the fall, could a potential train-wreck be far off?)

Walking back to my car, doing some shopping for groceries, talking with people I met - it all just seemed better, following my walk.

While I enjoy watching the visitors to the birdfeeders in our yard immensely, sometimes a walk rewards one with different kinds of benefits. I resolved not to let it get to this point again, to take time to re-connect with nature via a walk in the woods, not just from my living room window.

And next time, I don't think I'll wait another eight years to go back to that little park that can offer such a balm for my soul.

Trail map for Everett Crowley Park.

National Aviary a birders' - and photographers' - dream

"This place really is for the birds," I thought to myself.

And since it's the National Aviary, that's a good thing.

I spent my final full day spent in Pittsburgh during my late May-early June visit there at the aviary. This place had been on my radar for at least eight years, so when I found out I would be going to Pennsylvania, I had to make sure I could spend some time there.

I ended up opening it up and closing it down my first day there, roaming around, taking photos, watching flying shows and just generally indulging my "bird-brain." I spent half of a second-day there in the company of Kurt Hundgen, director of collections; and Robin Weber, director of marketing.

When I first walked through the doors that led into the "Grasslands" area of the facility, I knew I'd come to the right place.

There, sitting on some tree-like perches were a pair of Congo African grey parrots. They were not unlike my own two CAGs, Nikki and Coco; they were grooming and one of them hammed it up for me, even imitating the beeping noise my camera makes while shooting images and video.

Time for some pelican preening!

The aviary is divided into different "eco-regions," and from the Grasslands I went to the Wetlands area, where a feeding demonstration was in progress with a touring school group. The "swamp" was alive with roseate spoonbills, flamingos, kookaburas, pelicans, a few different kinds of ibis and - heard, but not seen - a screaming piha. (It doesn't really "scream," but this South American rainforest bird does make a very distinctive call.) Several smaller birds also flitted about through the vegetation.

Of course, no aviary experience would be complete without a stop at the penguin pool. In this case, the "African" theme continued, as the penguins who live here are South African penguins. And very playful penguins, they are.

The penguins are ready to "test the waters" once again.

Every time I leaned over the short wall to try to take an unobstructed photo of one of the penguins swimming around, the bird would pop his head up out of the water towards me. It made it really hard to focus! I figured he was either expecting food - or really didn't care to be caught on film by what he might have perceived as the "penguin paparazzi" (me).

From there, it was just a short walk through the cafeteria to the Tropical Rainforest area.

Like the Wetlands, there were numerous small birds flying and flitting around in the area. I also saw a feeding take place, as one of the staff members handed out mealworms for people to hold in their hands for the birds to fly down and scoop up.

Like the Grasslands, though, the main attraction for me was a pair of macaws in a large holding area at one end: a green-winged macaw and a hyacinth macaw.

These two species are not normally found in the same habitat, but these two were obviously very bonded. They played and groomed each other affectionately, making for some great shots and video footage.

In talking with Hundgen and Weber, I learned how the aviary holds regular programs focused on teaching people about the pitfalls of living with parrots as pets. Hundgen is working toward ensuring that visitors perceive the parrots here more as wild creatures in a natural environment than as potential pets, something that can only help both wild and captive parrots.

Although not the same species, these macaw are real pals.

The aviary is a member of Associations of Zoos and Aquariums, so it meets the highest standards of care for its inhabitants. It is involved in the Species Survival Plan to help prevent the loss of rare and endangered species as well as the loss of genetic diversity within those species.

Its programs extend far outside its walls. Scientists from the aviary are involved in field research and conservation programs of international scope, including work aimed at restoring the populations of Andean condors, an iconic vulture of South America.

And speaking of vultures...

A trio of vultures were among the free-flying birds featured in the "Talons!" show that required the purchase of advance tickets, as seats usually fill up quickly. They were joined by an owl, crows, a bald eagle, seagulls, and hawks. Combined with a multi-media presentation, the show displays some of the grace and power of these avians while educating spectators about the birds and ongoing conservation issues in the world.

It's a real crowd-pleaser, for little kids ... and big kids, too.

Like all good programs, the aviary is planning future expansion, both in terms of the infrastructure (parts of the building are more than 60 years old) and programs in and outside the facility.

Even without expansion, the aviary is a real gem in the crown of Pittsburgh attractions, and it was so well worth my time and effort to make sure I had a chance to explore it - and given the presence of parrots in the aviary, it was - coming on the heels of a day spent paddling - the absolutely perfect way to cap off my 12 days in Pennsylvania.

Reifel offers sanctuary for birds - and people looking to escape the city

"Quack!"

"Honk!"

"Oka-dee!"

No, those aren't new sound effects for comics that feature waterfowl as superheroes. Although they could be, I guess...(Darkwing Duck, move over!)

Those are the sounds that constantly surround you when you visit the George C. Reifel Migratory Bird Sanctuary just outside Ladner, B.C. Just take a half-hour's drive from the Vancouver International Airport, and you'll find yourself in a wetland paradise full of ducks, geese, cranes, and herons - not to mention songbirds like red-winged blackbirds or raptors like bald eagles or marsh hawks (a.k.a. northern harriers).



Bald eagle soars over our heads.

I won't go into too much detail about the sanctuary itself, its history and its functions; that can all be gleaned from the sanctuary website .

I will say that although it is a stopping place for birds migrating north and south in the spring and fall, respectively - an avian "motel" of sorts - it is also a year-round home for many other birds.

Reifel is one of those rare spots you can visit again and again, and never tire of going there. It's a special place where you can get close to nature without having to drive too far from your front step, if you live in the Greater Vancouver area. The experiences there are pretty much the same every time, but for me, there's always one gem of an experience I have that's a bit different each time, something that sets that visit apart from others.

For example, when I was there last Monday, I saw a great blue heron fly across a pond and alight on a log right in front of me. It then proceeded to spend several minutes grooming itself while I shot videos and images of the bird.

Another time, I was able to watch and record a pair of sandhill cranes strolling along the edge of the marsh. You won't see these large, rare and beautiful birds every time you go to Reifel, but I have seen them on more than one occasion.

Of course, you'll never lack company if you take the time to spend a few toonies and purchase the bags of seed ($1 each) they sell at the admission gate for people to feed the ducks and geese in the sanctuary. (That's the only food people are allowed to feed them, so be forewarned). Be prepared for a stampede, though - if you start sprinkling too close to where you're sitting or standing, you'll quickly be swamped by ducks (no pun intended, but if it works, hey...).

A quick word of caution: remember, these are wild animals - they're not pets, nor is this a zoo, so if you do go and you do feed them, keep that in mind, also.



Great blue heron gets ready to groom.



As I sit there on a bench, emptying the last few bits of seed from my paper bag, I look out at the various marshes and ponds, separated by the earthen dikes that form the trail system within the sanctuary and wistfully wish I could hop in a canoe and go paddling through the area's waterways.

Alas, that's not one of the activities visitors are allowed to participate in.
So as much as I'd love to hear the sound of a paddle dipping into Reifel's waters, I guess I'll just have to settle for walking the trails and hearing the sounds of "Quack-Honk-Oka-dee!"