St. George Bird Festival

This has been a dull, dull winter. Long cold days. Bleak skies.

This weekend we went to St. George for their annual bird festival. We went last year and had a great time. For some reason, I felt like it was done and didn't need repeating. Paul really wanted to, so we went. My in-laws watched the kids during the day so we could escape (thanks guys!). Being down there in the sun and 60 degree weather was just the ticket.

We met up with guides we had been with last year and it was fun to wander with them. At one point, we were driving on a dirt road along the Utah/Arizona border in what's called the Beaver Dam Slope. It winds around and goes down into an area called Beaver Dam Wash. And since the flooding in St. George this winter, the wash was a huge area of debris and silt. Needless to say this is a vast area of nothing and mesas and Joshua trees.

We wandered and walked through bushes, searching for a gnatcatcher pair known to be in the area. The rocks underfoot were so unique. They had been tumbled and washed downriver. There were so many colors and so many types of rock. Our group was split up in the area, and Paul and I were following our guide, Larry. Finally I stopped searching for flitting wings in the underbrush and just stood.

I let the guys go on ahead. I closed my eyes and I listened to the wind. I felt it blow by me. I felt the sun warm my face, I didn't know it had been so long. I let go of my binoculars and let my fingertips dangle at my sides. I felt my breathing slow down. I experienced being alone, something a mother doesn't have very often.

This is a big world. There's forests and deserts and beaches. There's mothers and businessmen and hippies. It just felt good to stand still for a moment in the middle of nowhere and experience being nowhere. And then, the group found the gnatcatcher.