A few days ago I visited the gem of the Metrowest wildlife areas of
interest. Don't get me wrong, I love our other wild spaces like Heard
Conservation Land, Drumlin Farm, and Walden Pond, but this is one of the
few places where I can walk through one of my favorite places to walk,
relax, and watch the natural world be. After going through job searches
and looking for work for the summer (even this late in the game I
know!), I was feeling particularly stressed about where life was going
and what I should be doing about it.
This stress was
immediately noticeable while I was walking the the main trail between
the two marshes. My pace was quick and agitated. I wasn't really
looking, but hurrying! It was almost as if I expected nature to show me
the way immediately and just accept my presence and dare to calm me
down. But then I stopped and thought "What am I doing?! You might get
attention thrashing around looking for calm, but that way you ruin the
calm that everyone else has come to seek. I looked up and down and
breathed deeply. I was approaching this place the wrong way, as a
harried adult looking for jobs would with stress on the brain and in the
heart.
After I calmed myself down, I looked around at the world that I have visited for wisdom, solace, and
insight. I love marshes because they embrace that element so important
for life that exists here so beautifully. Here water is king and the
water-loving plants know it with the marsh being dominated by cattails (Typha spp.), pickerelweed (Pontederia spp.) , and the ever-loathed purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria).
Despite the water being controlled by a single set of drains and locks,
the water remains most of the year attracting the host of birds it's
famous for. I witnessed three Great Blue Herons (Ardea herodias)
squawk and chase each other around the pickerelweed, vying for the best
spots. They are a peculiar bird with their long necks and pointed beaks.
So tall and perfectly designed for spearing fish and other aquatic
creatures and yet so rail thin. They eat some pretty big fish and it's a
wonder that they don't pack on more pounds.
One thing
that's noticeable when trekking through this wonderland are the amount
of business and cargo and personal aircraft that buzz like mechanical
mosquitoes over the landscape. The nearby airport that they report from
is busy enough on this day that in the two hours I spent there I counted
almost 20 planes that flew over in a northerly direction. Even with
this intrusion, life goes on. The birds, who have probably lived under
this barrage of aircraft-generated noise. The Marsh Wrens that make
their summer territories here certainly weren't bothered as they song
their rattling song in the cattails bordering the main walkway. Their
plucky presence is such a delight to see and one wonders whether their
tail that stands upright so resolutely ever bows. I giggled as I thought
of a wren with a stuck-up tail trying to fly and tumbling while doing
so.
As I walked further, other signs of summer were making themselves known. A northern water snake (Nerodia sipedon) sunning itself on a muskrat house. Families of Canada Geese (Branta canadensis) and Wood Ducks (Aix sponsa)
roamed the area looking for grass and roosting in the late afternoon
sunshine that beckoned from the threatening storm clouds in the
distance. Though it threatened to rain a few times, the clouds
eventually kept their distance and brought for radiant sunshine for the
world below.
Perhaps the most significant moment that made me realize I make my problems bigger than me and therefore let them get to me was when I happened upon a muskrat (Ondatra zibethicus).
Muskrats aren't particularly well known for promoting philosophical
thought about everyday life, but the muskrat pictured above did so for
me. I took the right trail towards the woods that ringed the upper
marsh. Before I'd gotten further down the trail I saw movement. The
movement came from a brown patch of fur resembling a tribble (Star Trek
fans will remember this as the fluffy, asexually-reproducing creature
that nearly overflowed the Starship Enterprise that one episode). But it
had the small eyes and ears of a rodent, as well as the trademark
scaly, laterally-flattened tail that characterize this unique species.
As I loomed over it, I noticed that it didn't pay me any attention and
kept on nibbling at the grass and cattails. I pished and whistled at it,
and loomed over it even more. It didn't react. It didn't acknowledge me
at all and continued eating. I stared, amazed that this little creature
so often seen as a prey animal and less impressive than other creatures
was ignoring one of the most successful species on the face of the
planet. The critter made no attempts to escape and continued about its
day.
Upon my walk back, I pondered the muskrat and its habits. I've
been able to walk up to muskrats before with them having little
reaction. Have they simply gotten used to people or are they less
persecuted here than they would be in other states. What amazed me most
was how the muskrat didn't seem to trifle with me as I had loomed over
him so menacingly. If I had done the same to a squirrel or a cottontail,
they would have fled immediately. It was then that I realized that I
could apply this to my own problems. I had come to the marsh with
looming problems about future employment and my future as a student of
wildlife management. I left feeling lighter than air and much calmer for
what I'd seen. I thought of the herons, and the waterfowl I'd seen, the
swallows that had swooped over the marsh, the tenacity of the wrens on
their territories. I marveled at the diversity of life I'd witnessed in
the marsh and each of the creatures preforming their roles with apparent
ease and grace. Finally I thought of the muskrat who in my enormous
presence kept going, doing, being. Keeping at the grindstone and moving
forward and eventually your current crop of troubles will be whittled
away. Fearing the looming cloud will not make it go away, but actively
clearing the air will destroy the cloud. I'll try to keep that in mind
from now on as I go. Forget "busy as a beaver" and go for a muskrat!
I'm back! After getting an internship so closely tied to the environment and nature itself, I figured it was time to take OUT for a spin once again. As such, I'll be blogging once a week about a topic that's held my attention for much of the week or possibly even something completely random. Anything naturey could be discussed from critters to weather to plants and fungi, environmental issues, land practices, and much much more.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
OUT!! #6: Lessons from a Muskrat
Labels:
Great Meadows National Wildlife Refuge,
muskrat,
nature,
philosophy,
seeing,
walking,
worrying
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