The Art of Stability

I left Rancho Santa Margarita with Rainbows on my feet and a head full of memories.  I wake 177 miles northwest, in a strange yet familiar place.  Another field season has ended and I have a handful of weeks between a new gig and my last job.  The desert waits for me but there is so much to do, and so much to ponder.

I'm not used to having my life planned out.  I can't help but feel a little nervous about committing myself to a 9-month contract.  Seems silly, doesn't it?  Most people thrive on stability, but it makes me uneasy.  I enjoy the thrill of not-knowing.  Applying for jobs has become second nature.  The sit-and-wait game makes my heart beat like a drum and my stomach dance like a butterfly.

I suppose I always knew this would happen.  As we get older and more experienced the time comes to make decisions.  Decide to stay or, decide to go?  What was I still searching for?  I sat perched atop my safe little fence for a long time.  Yes or no?  If I said yes it would erase all possibility of finding myself on a tropical island, chasing some rare bird.  If I said yes it would reinforce my skills and strengthen my resume.  I was stumped, so I called upon my mother for advice. 

As a baby taking my first steps she sat a few feet away coaxing me with enthusiasm to walk towards her.  My chubby little legs took me to the safety of her arms and to this day she is the one I turn to when the going gets tough.  But this time she encourages me to remain far away, in California.  She made a lot of good points and finished by saying, "In the end, it's only nine months."

Only nine months.  Simply 270 days.  I exhaled, exasperated.  Despite not-quite-knowing, I made my choice and threw all my doubts to the wind.  I suppose 'the unknown' would have to wait a while.  Right now there is veg data to be gathered in a cottonwood-scented basin, and then birds to be banded, and children to teach back at Starr Ranch  Sanctuary.

My stomach remains in knots, but I find some peace in knowing that a pine cabin awaits my return in it's bustling oak woodland.  And I must say that all of this would have been a lot scarier on my own.  The best part about having a home is sharing it with someone you love.

Four months in review:

This Barn Owl was a rare capture at the SRBO MAPS Station.  After a long night of unseasonal rain his waterlogged feathers prevented flight.  We took him to the raptor house to dry off and then sent him on his way.

A White-eyed Vireo surprised us on May 29th.

Say Cheese!  SRBO banders pose at the end of a busy day at the MAPS station.

One of the best things about working at Starr Ranch is the opportunity to teach others.  What's better is learning from them.

A male California Tarantula in search of a mate

Starr Ranch Sanctuary in all it's glory.  Saddleback Mountain peeks over the wild oats.

Cypress poses in front of the ranch entrance.  You would never think that behind me is a horrendous sprawling suburb.  Starr Ranch really is a sanctuary in the mess that is Orange County.