Yesterday morning I looked up from my laptop and saw something I’ve missed since late June. Mama Sandy was flying back and forth right by my windows and over the salt marsh. Previous summers she has been ‘babysitting’ the nest daily starting in August. But not this year. I have looked out towards the nest several times a day, but she would be there only in the shadows of my memory. The nest would be empty.
I was getting really worried about her until I finally spotted her at the sailing center one morning just about two weeks ago. But she wouldn’t come to the nest. I had no idea why. She had left with her daughter Bubbette (remember her ?) at the end of June and stayed away much longer than the usual 3-4 weeks.
But that all changed yesterday. She was flying around the marsh and passing by my terrace several times…
…as in making sure I would notice her. Finally she landed on her perch at the nest. Looking at the picture taken from my terrace, I noticed that she had been gardening again. Her flower bed was green after all the rains this past summer.
She was still there when Dylan and I passed by briefly at lunch time. Now she was taking her nest-sitting seriously. And I liked it. The salt marsh felt homey again.
Another fellow I’ve missed made an appearance too. The Reddish Egret, aka the Clown, was hunting for a lunch bite in the middle of the marsh.
He danced around, flapped his wings…and caught a fish! He turned to show off his catch…
… and then enjoyed it without further ado.
After his meal he posed for me, in his usual charming way, looking straight into my camera. I love watching his performances. And I think he knows it.
Last night Mr. D. and I visited the bayside and the dog park just before sunset. I realized we’ll need to adjust our schedule as it is getting dark much earlier now. It was almost too dark to take pictures. We found Stanley at his favorite perch at the Sailing Center and Sandy close by on a lamp-post. It was good to see them together again.
The marsh was already in the shadows, but far away I could see the Mayor on the ‘bird island’ in the company of numerous residents, mostly White Ibis.
A juvenile Little Blue Heron, who was still completely white, got a bit startled after seeing Mr. D., but then realized he was leashed and graciously posed for a picture.
Another friend I haven’t seen in a while, a Tri-colored Heron, was trying to find supper in the last light for the night…
…and Harry, the younger Great Blue Heron, was keeping a good distance to the Mayor and his company.
Mr. D. ran around alone at the park. I guess we were too late and everyone had already gone home. When he finally sat down to rest, I snapped a picture of him and glanced over the fence…
…at a gorgeous sunset sky.
We walked out of the park and enjoyed the sunset from a distance. Mr. D. is a bit sour about not being allowed on the beach, but he took it all with stride.
Walking back home through the darkened marsh, we discovered that Sandy was now perching at the nest. Her silhouette against the sunset’s after glow was reassuring. All is good. Mama is back.
Thank you for visiting. Mr. D and I wish you a wonderful upcoming week.
We hopped on a big ship that cruises between Stockholm and Turku on a daily basis – a newer sister ship to the one pictured above. Slowly this giant navigated the tight fairways in Stockholm archipelago. And we enjoyed the sights of small islands with countless summer houses, an occasional old fort and a magnificent sunset from one of the outer decks.
We sat out there quite a while with a glass of wine before getting something to eat and then retiring to our stateroom for the night.
We arrived in Turku the next morning and after a 4-hour drive we reached our dad’s village in central Finland where our ‘business’ was to be conducted. We met our forestry consultant at a café we used to frequent as kids. It was still there, fresher than ever, and the view from the tables outside was as beautiful as I remembered. A sparkling summer day.
After that meeting, we received all dad’s pictures from our friend and then decided to visit this year’s summer exhibition at the nearby art center, Leporanta, like we had done so many times in the past.
I just love the rolling countryside where this art center is located right next to a lake.
An exhibition there always starts in the front yard of the main building. This year there was a charming collection of cows made from scrap metal. Those cows gave us a big smile. One cow was going from the morning milking session to a dance party in the evening – on a tractor. We thought she looked fabulous. You go girl!
Another one was going on vacation. With a big tiger-cat, mind you.
A third demonstrated milk delivery balancing on a unicycle. What a hoot!
Another new exhibit was the “Heads” of three important looking men. We noted that some very self-important men had just visited Helsinki earlier in the week. Maybe there was a connection…you just never know. These three men were tight-lipped about their meeting.
The metal eagle some of you may remember from 
From there we entered the barns that housed the art works, mostly oil paintings, of several Finnish painters. The barn entrances hosted other types of art…
At the end of the day we drove to our hotel in a neighboring town – past our dad’s house. We decided not to stop there. It was our childhood home and we wanted to remember it just as it had been last fall when we left it.
Looking at dad’s old photos, I found pictures of the house being built when we were very small. In the first picture our mom is still pregnant with my sister and in the second one we are both there, pictured with mom and an aunt visiting with a baby cousin. The house was still under construction. It took several years to build as dad built it alone in the spare time he had from ‘real’ work.
We remembered that there was a small ferry that used to take a couple of cars at the time over a big river. It was always exciting to be on the ferry and, indeed, we passed a road leading to the ferry harbor. Instead of taking us there, the GPS took us over the river on a beautiful bridge built fairly recently. And eventually we arrived to the ‘town center’ of the municipality where the small village was located. We found the church and planted a flower on our maternal grandfather’s grave at the cemetery.
The ‘main street’ we remembered as a lively place with many shops and a nice ice cream parlor, was very quiet. Most of the shops and restaurants were now located in a shopping center half a mile away.
We knocked on the door and a man who lived there kindly allowed us to walk the grounds and take some pictures of the house and the dilapidated cowshed and sauna that were no longer used. Nobody was farming here anymore.
This was the place where we had spent many summers, sleeping in the attic bedroom, playing in the yard and the meadows behind the cowshed. It was surreal and quite emotional to stand there with all the happy memories flooding in. In my mind’s eye, I could see us all gathered there, like in the picture taken when I was almost four years old (our family on the right, our grandparents in the middle and mom’s sisters on the right).
That was a trip to remember. Thanks sis ❤ Remember my toothless smile and the little ‘play corner’ we had as kids?
Thank you for coming along on this nostalgic journey. My next post from the artsy quarters of Stockholm will complete this travel series. You’ll find 
Creatures living in harmony with nature start their day. Some sit and enjoy the sunrise, others get on with breakfast preparations.
Papa Stanley returns from his first fishing trip of the day, one of many to come …
A few minutes later, he nods off on the lamp-post just outside the marsh border. As we know, taking care of babies is quite tiring for the parents. He has eaten the fish head and takes a short nap before bringing the meaty parts of the fish to Mama Sandy and the kids.
And so the day has started. Late morning yesterday, when Dylan and I were spying on the osprey family from our terrace, we finally spotted a little chick! Or perhaps two? The first born should be almost two weeks old now. Here is the first grainy family picture of 2018. We hope for better ones soon.
Throughout the day many other birds made appearances. My assistant and I went on a short walk in another park nearby and spotted a Limpkin, a Double Crested Cormorant and a couple of White Ibis.
We also found two different blackbirds…
…and a few turtles enjoying the water and the mild spring weather.
Later on, around sunset time, we walked through the bay side to the salt marsh and discovered a beautiful Snowy Egret enjoying the low tide and the last rays of sun.
We noticed that Sandy was on her dinner break at their usual lamp-post table. She had left Stanley to look after the kids.
We also spotted Ms. Rosa! Long time no see. There was just about enough light to see that she still looks great.
She forageed around the shallow water as we watched her. Then ended up posing for another picture with Mr. Blue-winged Teal.
The younger GBH was watching the osprey nest, as he had been for the past few nights. But Stanley seemed relaxed. He might know the youngster has now grown up and adopted better manners. The latter was evidenced by a short nod in our direction.
Before we knew it the sun had gone down and the marsh filled with shadows. We saw some movement in the bushes but it was too dark for pictures.
We enjoyed the peace of the evening for a while on ‘my’ bench. When we finally wanted to leave, the park gate had already closed. We had to use our secret escape path out of the park. Dylan led the way in the moonlight. He had done this before.
Thank you for visiting us between the sunrise and the sunset. And Happy Easter to all who celebrate! I leave you with my one of my favorite sunset pictures from our beach. Sail well into the new week.
The birds that are most represented among the permanent residents are the pelicans, both the White Pelicans and the Brown Pelicans. They tend to get hurt by human activity on the water. This warm day several of them were bathing in the many pools, large and small placed everywhere in their aviaries. Or preening to look their Sunday best.
My friend the American Oyster Catcher was there too, and appeared to be doing better than last time I saw it.
On this Sunday, several other birds were visiting their relatives at the sanctuary, like these American Black vultures.
I also counted more than 50 nests high in the trees around the sanctuary. I believe birds feel this is a protected zone and are confident building nests in the trees around the park. Here a mama pelican peers down from her nest high up in a tall tree, and a Black-Crowned Night Heron nods off at her nest.
It was a wonderful, life-affirming visit, as always.
If only the earth would be a sanctuary for all its inhabitants.
The sunset was as beautiful as ever. Shore birds were running around at the water’s edge and little sand crabs hurried into their homes for the night.
The sun disappeared into the ocean leaving a soft glow on the skies. I thought about the beautiful Irish blessing “May every sunset hold more peace.”
With that thought I wish you all a wonderful weekend. I will be traveling to spend time with the youngest generation of our family. It always gives me hope. Just like the Osprey chicks.
One of them took off immediately and sat down to digest his meal, but the rest stayed on the water to enjoy the soft evening glow.
A lone Oyster Catcher was having his dinner near the sea wall, where the low tide had revealed a rich smorgasbord.
Before we left the bay side, we spotted the younger Great Blue Heron, whom I haven’t seen in a couple of months. He was making plans for the evening under the Sailing Center pier.
When we walked through the marsh towards the dog park, we saw Papa Stanley in a pine tree close to the nest. He spotted us too and nodded his greeting.
He was facing the nest, where Mama Sandy was brooding the chicks basking in the last rays still reaching the salt marsh.
Dylan spent a few minutes running with his friends at the dog park, including one of his first friends there, Saki.
When we walked back past the nest Papa Stanley was there too, drying his feathers and facing the setting sun. Perhaps he had brought home some evening snacks.
I have seen from my terrace that Sandy is now brooding the chicks and feeding them small bites of fish. But their new home is paparazzi-safe. The nest cup is so deep that I have not yet gotten a good picture of the new generation. However, I am concluding from Sandy’s feeding pattern that they have 2-3 babies…about 10-12 days old by now. It’s funny how they always notice me taking pictures from my terrace although I am more than a block away from the nest.
Then yesterday I finally had a chance to do a solo walk at the marsh in bright daylight. It was interesting to note that Sandy left the nest twice for a minute or so. When Stanley was there looking after the kids, she flew to the middle of the marsh and brought back something small, holding it very carefully in both her talons.
I have seen this also in previous years and always wondered what it is she brings back to the nest. The fact that Sandy now leaves the nest also tells me the chicks are more than 10 days old. She does not need to brood continuously any more. I just hope to see a little head, or more, soon. After twice leaving and bringing in some mysterious stuff, Sandy left Stanley in charge and went out once more for a short excursion. Perhaps she just wanted some exercise because she came back empty handed.
I walked around the marsh and saw a few friends. The Mayor was back in his office on the tiny islet. It looked like he was firmly in control of this small ‘city’. That was reassuring.
The Tri-Colored heron was foraging in the shallows – and little later on I saw him catch a small fish.
The Little Blue Heron was also there with the tiny Snowy Egret. I am thinking these guys are too young to form a family as yet.
Then I saw Stanley leave the nest. He flew towards the ocean. But in a couple of minutes he returned to the marsh. He didn’t fly to the nest empty-handed, that would’ve been a mistake, instead he settled on a cypress tree far away from the nest.
He sat there for a few minutes resting, then flew towards the bay. I hope he had better luck there. I saw many other smaller birds on this weekend walk, but those images will need to come in a future post.
I have a short work trip coming up in the beginning of the week and wish you all a wonderful week.
Arriving at the salt marsh, we saw Papa Stanley fly away from the nest. Perhaps after giving Mama Sandy, who was patiently sitting on the eggs, a good night kiss.
Otherwise the marsh looked deserted for the night. Suddenly I spotted something bright and familiar behind the bushes. Miss Rosa, whom I hadn’t seen for several weeks, was out and about having a late night snack. I was happy to see her even if I couldn’t get a clear shot.
There were no other dogs at the park, but Dylan wanted to run around for a bit. It was getting so dark I could hardly see him, but I got this funny picture of him ‘flying’ past me across the grass. Obviously I had not set my camera properly.
The park is not lit at night and the gate was about to close when we headed back towards the street. We could see Sandy’s head sticking up from the nest right next to the perch.
I’m sure she was already sleeping. Suddenly something big flew low past us. First I thought it was a Night Heron as I have sometimes spotted them this late at night. But this bird was much bigger. I took a shot when I saw him between the bushes.
It was the Mayor, the older and larger Great Blue Heron. No doubt about it. Hmm. My old suspicion that he might have a nest in the middle of the marsh came to mind again. Why would he otherwise visit the marsh at nightfall?
Then this week hit me with tons of work. But I kept on spying on Sandy and Stanley from our terrace from time to time. During the windy cool spell earlier in the week, Sandy was sitting tight with her head against the wind and I hardly saw her moving. Yesterday afternoon the temperatures reached balmy 62 F/17 C and I spotted Stanley on the perch looking at Sandy who was sitting on the eggs.
Suddenly Sandy got up and checked on the eggs for quite a while. Maybe she was turning them to keep them evenly heated. You see, she can feel the temperature of the eggs through the receptors in her brooding patches. Once she was up and moving around, I tried to peek into the nest cup with my zoom. It is surprisingly deep. Even enlarging my pictures by 200% and lightening them, it was impossible to see how many eggs she has. In one picture, I thought I saw three, but can’t be sure. You know my lively imagination. But we will know soon enough, in just a few days, how many eggs will hatch.
Then last night, Dylan and I went to the dog park again to celebrate that my busy work week was coming to a close. The sun was still up over the ocean, painting the skies and our garden in flaming colors. What a difference one hour makes!
The bay was basking in the glow as well. And we found a Great Egret fishing next to the Sailing Center.
And two American Oyster Catchers were having their dinner 
Part of the salt marsh was still basking in the last rays of sun, here seen through one of my usual hideouts. And Dylan had a few friends to run with at the park.
I am hoping to get in a long walk this weekend to catch up with the latest ‘gossip’ at the marsh and its surroundings. And to catch up on your blogs as well.
Solitude is aloneness you choose and embrace. I think great things can come out of solitude, out of going to a place where all is quiet except the beating of your heart. -Jeanne Marie Laskas
Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul. – John Muir
Solitude in the summer forest, full of leafy trees, urges us to breathe. To enjoy beingness, just like them. – Tiny K.
It is time now, I said, for the deepening and quieting of the spirit among the flux of happenings. – Mary Oliver
Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all the darkness. – Desmond Tutu
Solitude feels like a refreshing shower of light snow. It’s brightening my soul. – Tiny K.
Solitude is the great teacher, and to learn its lessons you must pay attention to it. -Deepak Chopra
In my dad’s garden, the apples were still growing, getting more colorful every day. And the healthy buckthorn berries were almost ripe to pick.
On our daily walks, of which at least one went all the way around the lake, I noticed and enjoyed the small things in nature. Like the butterflies, the Peacock and the Mourning Cloak we found around our trail.
I heard the hum of the universe in the Finnish forests, mighty green with stately firs, pines and birches. And rowan trees full of red berries for the birds to enjoy.
And I admired the great variety of wildflowers we encountered on our walks: wild roses, blue bells, clover, dandelions, heather and floating beds of water lilies.
I stopped to take pictures of them and then had to run to reach the others. Great exercise…some days over 12,000 steps. Not that I’m counting :-). Although in fairness, our awesome guide would stop and wait for me if I disappeared from sight. He always made sure nobody was left behind in the woods.
Whether it was morning, late afternoon or evening, the lake always spoiled us with gorgeous views.
One evening we spotted a couple of Whooper Swans very close to the shore, but of course that time I didn’t carry my camera. The next evening I could only find one of them at the far end of the lake.
We often came back from our explorations around the magical ‘blue hour’ after sunset. Then, soon after night fall around 10 p.m., the moon climbed up onto the sky painting the lake in magical colors.
My last evening ‘back home’ I went out to the lake and got a surprising goodbye gift. A Loon swam quietly out through the reeds fairly close to me. What a treat!
The next morning I had to leave at 3 am to make my early flight to London and further to the US. The archipelago outside Helsinki was just waking up to a new day. I felt deep gratitude for having had this wonderful time with my dad, my sister, my niece, aunts and cousins.
The next morning after coming home, I found a welcome committee from the salt marsh right here in our garden. Snowy Egrets, White Ibis and a Northern Mockingbird had gathered to welcome me home.
That was wonderful, but nothing compared to the reception I got on my first walk at the salt marsh this morning. Can’t wait to tell you all about the welcome back party.
After actually sleeping quite a bit over the Atlantic, and everything running on time in London, I arrived in Finland surprisingly intact. For someone who gets to see family ‘back home’ only about once a year these trips are always nostalgic. Many kinds of pictures from the past suddenly surface. Me as a toddler moving into our new home with mom, dad and baby sister. A home built by our dad. A home that still stands tall, here pictured on a moonlit night the week before last.
Me in elementary school. And the memory of laying down on this very school yard bleeding profusely after being hit right on the nose with a baseball bat by a fellow student in the PE class. A ring of worried people bending over me when I wake up. This eight year old’s Miss Universe dreams brutally smashed. But at least she got a few days off school while her eyes couldn’t see anything but the humongous nose.
Me in high school, and then as an undergraduate and graduate student in the big city of Tampere about 45 miles away from home. That was a wild time. Initially. But then we all mature and somehow life finds its intended path. I pass familiar places, but they are not the same. Like this old Orthodox Church next to my university. It used to reach for the blue skies all alone, but now has a backdrop of a brand new hotel tower. Progress.
When I pass my high school, I notice the Lutheran Church completed while I was a junior. Very modern architecture at the time, and in my eyes it still holds lots of appeal. I find comfort in the fact that at least a few places look like I remember them.
On the 3.5-hour journey from the capital to my childhood home, more familiar places fly by the window. Now illuminated by the late afternoon sun. And my early years come back to me with a profound sense of gratitude.
And soon I was there. At the lake that belongs to my childhood more than anything. And one that still symbolizes peace and tranquility in my life.
That first night I couldn’t resist going out to the backyard after the late dinner. I was marveling at the fact that dusk arrived only around 10 p.m. And the fact that my dear dad still kept a thriving garden.
That moonlit night I felt the peace of this wonderful spot on earth. And I knew those precious, long-awaited moments with family had arrived.
The toddler, teenager and adult merged into a surprisingly balanced whole and let out a long exhale into the cool night air.
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