I’m a volunteer raptor docent. It’s the most amazing thing ever, I think, even if I spend most of my time cleaning and feeding the raptors.
Raptors in captivity are unusual (as they should be). In our facility, we take in raptors that were wild, but have sustained injuries that would make it impossible for them to survive on their own in the wild. Most of them have wing injuries (are not flighted), but some of our birds have (or have had) eye injuries. The decision about their releasability is made by a veterinarian and the rehabber tasked with the bird’s care when it comes into captivity. When a bird comes to the West Valley Outdoor Learning Center, the OLC commits to supporting them with appropriate diets, enclosures, medical care, and enrichment for the rest of their lives.
The birds become education ambassadors for the community. They visit classrooms, go to events at the local wildlife refuge, parks department, local libraries. They are involved in open houses and classes at the OLC. Some of them don’t travel well, so do their work on site. Some of them don’t tolerate heat well, so they “retire” for the summer.
They never cease to be wild. They are not pets. They do not become domesticated. Most of them would be content to never see any of us ever again. There are times when we have to do things that they DO NOT ENJOY, like trimming talons and beaks, West Nile vaccines and boosters, or vet visits.
Most of these birds are solitary unless they’re nesting or migrating. Because they don’t even form social relationships with members of their own species (except under specific circumstances) in the wild, and none of them are imprinted to humans, it’s unrealistic for us to think that we can develop deep social connections with them. They recognize us, learn to work with us, and sometimes learn to trust us, but they don’t like us, the way a dog or cat might.
But, here’s the thing: they all have unique personalities and preferences. They are delightful. Some of them are hilarious. Some of them are really demonstrative, and opinionated — you always know how they’re reacting to what’s going on. I enjoy their company, even though they (mostly) don’t enjoy mine.
Sadie, American Kestrel
Kiwi, Red-tailed Hawk
Arden, Red-tailed Hawk
Stan, Harris’s Hawk
Hanovi, Great Horned Owl
Pants, Rough-legged Hawk
Alberta, Great Horned Owl
Some of these birds are no longer with us (Sadie, Kiwi, Hanovi), and their deaths are devastating. It’s like losing a member of your family. They live long lives, for raptors, but as with most animals, their lives are not long enough.
I asked a veterinarian once how it was possible to fall so in love with a creature who can’t love you back… she said that she thinks that on some level, they know that their handlers are there to help. I’d like to think that’s true.
Or, how I threw out my back and what I’m doing to fix it.
And Also, Slow and steady finishes the race… eventually.
When we moved into our house, it had this cute, completely unusable brick patio. Persistent, deeply rooted weeds covered it from March until November. It was too small to support a small table and chairs and a grill. It was uneven. Water pooled in one corner (away from the house, thankfully). The only way to manage the weeds was to dump Round-Up on it every spring, and I just think that’s a bad idea.
(I want the backyard to be a haven for insects and birds, so I’ve come to believe that I should behave as if pesticides and herbicides are not available… although I will poison Chinese Elm in a heartbeat, because they’re incredibly hardy and excellent at growing into fences… cutting them doesn’t work, and neither does girdling… no mercy.)
As you’ll see in the next photo, we’ve got other issues, a big one being that lawn does not like to grow in this soil. In the photo below, you can see some of the weeds that do thrive in that area. (We pulled those weeds, sheet mulched the area and then planted a combination of grass and clover. Right now, because of the consistent dry heat, the clover is thriving and the grass is only barely hanging on, with a couple of dead patches that we’ll overseed in the fall. I’m not upset about that, because the bees like it, and the clover is a good bridge between our current flower plantings — the salvia and lavender are fading and the western clematis hasn’t revved up yet.)
So, back to the patio, we decided to pull up the bricks, to fix the underlayment, and then we would re-lay the brick and expand the patio so it could support a seating area and an eating area.
The problem: there was no underlayment. It was brick on dirt (not soil — just sandy, mostly dead dirt). We started digging out, expanded the area outward by getting rid of a skinny bed with leggy roses in it. We took out a poorly laid concrete pad. It was a very slow, labor-intensive, time-consuming situation that we couldn’t get done in July and August (because HOT!), which led to an awkward winter.
And then, in 2020… Covid-19. Everything went pear-shaped in the spring and summer. The excavation proved to be too much for us, so we decided to hire someone. We got a quote, made some plans… and then nothing happened. Dana got busy at work, and we each thought the other would follow up with the contractor… it just didn’t happen. It was a bummer, but there was a lot of life happening last year, so it’s not something I can get upset about.
But THEN, in 2021, the contractors got too busy to do our job. It’s entirely our fault that we ended up here. I’m glad everyone is busy. We need a patio, though, so we shifted back to the DIY plan, and got more ambitious. We want to make sure that we have adequate drainage, and that we’re level from side to side and appropriately sloped from the house.
One thing we got right: we hired someone to excavate the site. BIG. HELP. (We are forever grateful for Tim, from Tim’s Hauling, who hauled away most of the brick, the dirt we’d excavated already, cleared the “back 40” (our small “parking” area beyond the back fence), and then brought his tiny earth mover into the yard and went to work. A few of our neighbors hired him for smaller jobs on the spot… he might be afraid to come back here…)
Yeah, so here’s where it got interesting for me, anatomically speaking. After Tim’s hard work (yay!), we still had to finish digging out. I spent a bunch of time over about five days, moving the rest of the dirt to the side and pulling out rocks. Lots of pulling and lifting over a short period of time… BIG MISTAKE, because that’s not the kind of work I normally do.
But there was quite a bit of progress, so that’s good.
If I had taken a break after that, eased up on my daily yoga and walking practice, rested, slowed down (done that work over two weeks instead of a weekend), I might have avoided the worst of it.
I didn’t do that. Instead I turned around and moved an order of quail and mice from my porch to the outdoor learning center, which involved some lifting and repackaging of heavy, awkward packages. Also a BIG MISTAKE.
Over the next week, I felt my back slowly stiffen up and get more and more sore. Sneezing became a situation to be negotiated, because my lower back was so tight that it hurt.
About a week and a half ago, I woke up in so much pain that I couldn’t stand, walk, or sit. My back (butt?) was in spasm and would not let go. A trip to urgent care, a course of prednisolone, gabapentin and methocarbamol later… I can walk, sit and stand. I still have some nerve issues in one of my calves, and weakness in one of my hips and quads. I can do very slow, careful, highly modified yoga. I’m doing some foam rolling. And some short walks. And I can sneeze, which is helpful (because allergies are a bummer).
But no lifting. No pulling. Lots of rest.
Dana has taken on the biggest load, and because this summer has been one, long, heat wave, he’s doing lots of work in the morning and evening. My contribution has been… raking gravel. I feel badly about not being more helpful, but… I’m physically incapable.
Dana just finished with the gravel — he added another few inches after that last photo was taken. It has been tamped. One more pass to make sure it’s level where it needs to be, and then he can start the sand and pavers (which were delivered two weeks ago).
As for me, I’m out beyond the back fence, spreading the rest of the gravel in our “parking” area, 20 minutes at a time, early in the morning before it gets hot, while the tractor sprinkler tackles the lawn. The pile is getting smaller as it gets spread around.
Life lesson: Progress is the goal. Are we closer today than we were yesterday? It doesn’t matter how insignificant any one day seems, because it all adds up.
Moral of the story: if you’re not used to doing heavy manual labor, don’t try to do it all at once — slow and steady still finishes the race, it might just take a little bit (or a lot) longer. Better yet, if you can, hire someone to do the heaviest lifting.
I like bears… from a trip to the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle, 2010.
Tap, tap… is this thing on?
Uh, hi. As the name of the site suggests, I’m Carmen… Yount.
I’m kind of in between things at the moment. I’ve been an election coordinator for the Associated Press, a freelance graphic designer, an aspiring science illustrator, and now, I’m… I don’t know what.
One thing I definitely am is a volunteer raptor docent at my local outdoor learning center. (I’m very good at cleaning bird poo off of walls, butchering small animals and hauling water… and a reasonably good handler of an assortment of hawks and owls, and an adequate program presenter.)
I’m also an avid journaler and sketchbooker, and off-an-on nature journaler, amateur bookbinder and printmaker (drypoint, currently experimenting with a pasta machine, might eventually upgrade to a Sizzix Bigshot).
I keep a bullet journal for calendaring — it’s the first format that helped me really LOOK at how I was committing myself to activities and people. I would like to become a more consistent perpetual journaler… it’s something to work on.
I cook. A lot. Mostly plant-based food, because I don’t eat meat and my husband is one of the most lactose intolerant people I’ve ever met.
I’m using my yard(s) as a lab for resilient (in the face of climate change) plantings of native and adapted plants in our sandy (well-drained!), poorly nourished soil. And every year we grow tomatoes, a few peppers, beans, summer squash and corn… and a few blackberries and grapes.
My very brief and undistinguished career as a patio installer (in our backyard) came to an abrupt halt when I pulled… something… in my butt (hip flexor? calf?) and ended up at urgent care. I raked some of the gravel, but I’ve had to come to grips with the fact that I’ll never make it in this world as a professional piano mover.
Yoga is my jam. And walking, and sometimes rowing on an erg. Day hikes are awesome. Volunteering at the West Valley Outdoor Learning Center is a good, weekly try at farm chores; raptor mews don’t clean themselves.
I believe, with my whole heart, that the best way to get along in this world is to let people be who they are, and encourage them to become their best selves, even if their choices aren’t my choices. If an activity/identity/value helps them to become the best version of themselves AND does not cause harm to anyone else, it’s a good thing for them, and any feelings I have about the matter are not relevant.
Let me be absolutely clear about a few things: I believe that LGBTQ+ people are worthy of love and respect, that Black Lives Matter, that I am always on Native land, and that I have no right to dictate other people’s health care.
Finally, if we can afford the most kick-ass military the world has ever seen (believe you me, I am in awe of the US’s contribution to military aviation… so awesome), we should also be able to afford to make sure that people who live here have access to adequate health care. And education.
Why am I here?
That’s a very good question. I’ve had another domain that I’ve been saying I wanted to use for a long time, but I think that doing that would require more focus than I have for that sort of thing, so if I’m blogging as myself, I guess I just get to be myself. That seems like it’s worth trying for a while.
What do I hope to accomplish here?
I have absolutely no idea. But I feel like one thing I’ve lacked is movement. I feel like, if I get started in any direction, I might be able to find my way. So I guess my goal is to just move, and see what comes of it.
Carmen Yount 