​January 31, 2013. Thursday, 5:27 PM – Watkinsville, Georgia.  Winter is a great time to spot hawks. There are far fewer leaves on the trees and fewer other birds around, making the larger perched beauties easier to see. Now that the daylight hours are lengthening, my monotonous drive home is getting a bit more entertaining by watching for wildlife. While passing the Athens Seed Co. in Watkinsville, as I do each day, I was searching the tree line. 

Being a birdseed company, there are always plenty of doves and pigeons waiting in the surrounding trees anticipating quitting time and the exodus of the employees in order to alight upon and eat up whatever was spilled throughout the day.  And on occasion, I’ve spotted a hawk nearby, perhaps waiting to alight upon and eat up the seed-seeking doves. But I never was able to get in a good Athens Seed Co. hawk photo. 

As I rounded the curve of Depot Street, I saw the larger, erect bird in the tree and slowed to a halt.  A hawk! And perfectly poised for a photo. Judging by the long, banded tail, I initially thought I was shooting a Red-shouldered Hawk. But as I positioned the car under the gorgeous bird, the belly streaking was odd. Was it a juvenile Red-shouldered? Or something else?  I got in a few good photos before it flew off. ​

​The next morning, hoping for a new Life List photo, I examined my shots. Long tail… bands on the tail… but wait, it is a really long tail, and rounded on the edges. Hmmm, a clue.  And the belly pattern… it wasn’t rusty bands like the Red-shouldered’s markings. It was more streaked, like a Red-tailed Hawk’s… though more up on the chest and not across the belly. And the long, banded tail couldn’t possibly be that of the stubby Red-tail. 

​I grabbed Wheeler’s Photographic Guide to North American Raptors.  “Best field marks are large square head when hackles are raised, then showing eye closer to beak than nape, stout legs, rounded tail (outer tail feathers are noticeably shorter than central ones) with a wide white band on the tip.” That’s it! But just to be sure, I emailed the photos to the Oconee Rivers Audubon Society president, and this was my reply: “You're absolutely right, it's a Cooper's! The long tail is an excellent clue for separating the accipter hawks (Cooper's and Sharp-shinned) from the buteos (Red-tailed, Red-shouldered). The brown upperparts and vertical breast streaking make this a young bird. Great photos!” A new one on the Life List!  

​Monday, 9:54 AM - Latitude: N 34.870200, Longitude: W 83.810200. 

​There’s something about standing upon a mountain. For some it may be a sense of conquering the world; for others, a way to meet with God. But there is something special about a mountain. It was on a mountain that God met with Moses in the burning bush; it was on a mountain that Jehovah spoke to the children of Israel; it was on a mountain that David desired to build the Temple of God; it was on a mountain that God spoke with Elijah in the still small voice; it was on a mountain that Christ was transfigured before the disciples. 

My choice to head to Brasstown Bald wasn’t spiritual, but just a matter of looking for a fun day-trip to get out in God’s creation. And why not a mountain? Brasstown Bald is the highest peak in Georgia at 4,784 feet. A parking lot near the top and paved path to the summit make it an easy family hike rather than a daunting explorer’s climb. Being off on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, we decided to make the trip. Reading one website that suggested bringing a jacket to the breezy summit even in summer should have tipped us off for what was in store.

Being January, it was cold.  Not as cold as it could be, but it was 41 degrees when leaving the house. We made the near two-hour drive, at one point passing a group of dark-brown, winter-coated does and fawns. As we passed through Helen, the temperature was near 45 degrees. The last few miles were somewhat nauseating switchbacks up into the North Georgia Mountains. And as we climbed the road up the Bald, the dashboard thermometer continued to drop until it steadied in the parking lot at 37 degrees.

​As soon as we opened the doors, a great and strong wind blew through the car. And perhaps the thought “why are we here?” blew into our minds. Although the Lord might not be in the wind, the roar was just as impressive. Being on a high peak looking out over miles and miles, you could hear waves of wind bursts roaring like invisible clouds over the peaks and valleys. And it was cold; windy cold; clothing-piercing cold. In fact, “due to subzero temperatures” (from a sign posted on the locked lavatory doors) the mountaintop facilities were closed. But we climbed nonetheless.  

As we left the exposed parking lot with the wind ripping across it and entered the tree-lined path to the summit, the cutting edge of the wind was dulled. The girls had fun finding icicles hanging off the small rock outcrop ledges near the path’s edge. The paved trail was a mere sixth-tenths of a mile, but with the 18 pound pack on my back, I admit I was left a bit breathless (but blamed it on the altitude). Upon reaching the top, we climbed the partially ice covered steps to the top of the lookout platform for the view. 
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What a gorgeous sight, looking far into the distance. Perhaps it  is the view that draws man to the mountain? From the summit, we can see further than our normal sea-level view allows. And perhaps we can better appreciate our God’s ability to look far into the future, and even the past, from His vantage point seated in the heavens. For Him, no future is too distant to see; nothing is out of His sight. 

​January 19, 2013 – mostly sunny after several days of rain. Low 30 degrees warmed into the mid50’s by the afternoon. Amanda and I returned to the quiet little waterfowl refuge I had found in a Georgia Wildlife Viewing Guide. Its name, Dyar Pasture, is quite fitting. Riding down country roads past cow field after cow field, there pops up an easily missed M.A.R.S.H. Project sign at the entrance of yet another pasture. Turning in, tires rumbling over a cattle guard, two gravel ruts pass directly through an active pasture complete with cow patties to steer around and the occasional inquisitive cow staring in your car windows. Passing through the pasture and over the cattle guards is a small parking area.
 
Walking down to the floating dock at the boat ramp, other than one basking turtle, the impound and the river were rather deserted. Leaving the observation platform on the east side of the impound, we walked North West beyond the trail end out onto the soggy ground of the impound.
 
A few startled ducks startled us as they whistled swiftly from hiding places in nearby scrub. Despite the relative inactivity, several creatures were quite busy all the preceding evening coating all the vegetation in cotton candy webs without any specific form or structure. It was as if someone was a little late in taking down those phony patches of Halloween cobwebs. As we looped around to head back to the car, our attention was grabbed by flitting birds clinging to the sides of tree after tree. A Downy Woodpecker and a Yellow Bellied Sapsucker were quite busy knocking out their niche in the refuge. 

​1/4/13 – a Red-shouldered Hawk flew down right in front of my vehicle on S. Madison Avenue. It swooped down and grabbed a road kill squirrel from off the yellow line. His flight was much more laborious after picking up the squirrel as he was pursued by two cackling crows.

1/12/13 – Saturday, 10:45 AM; a feasting crew of about 15 Black Vultures huddled over a deer carcass along the road side in front of Whit Davis Elementary.
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1/13/13 – 8:45 AM; a quick, small Red Fox darted in front of our car on Indian Hills Road on the way to open the church for Sunday morning service. I am so itching to go on an extended hiking trip. Backpack, bags, mats, gear all slowly purchased. But when? I have been a tad depressed because my plans to get away seem to be turning to dreams that will never be achieved. With all the duties and responsibilities of life, how can I really check out and go? Before I know it, Amanda will be grown, her interests will change, and I’ll lose my outdoor partner. So, my opinion as I write: all else aside, I don’t care, I’m going on an AT hike in May for my 40th birthday. I’m going! This desire to hike is fueling my diet and exercise. If I cast off my hiking dream, then I’ll probably go back to sedentary unhealthiness. 

“THIS WORLD – including its natural wonders – gives us foretastes and glimpses of the next world. Every joy on earth is an inkling, a whisper of greater joy. The Grand Canyon, the Alps, the Amazon rain forests, the Serengeti Plain – these are rough sketches of the New Earth. One day we may say, ‘The best parts of the old world were sneak previews of this one.’ All our lives we’ve been dreaming of the New Earth. Whenever we see beauty in water, wind, flower, deer, man, woman, or child, we catch a glimpse of heaven. Just like the Garden of Eden, the New Earth will be a place of sensory delight; breathtaking beauty, satisfying relationships, and personal joy. God poured Himself, His creativity, and His love into making Eden for His creatures. But at that time, that’s all we were: His creatures, His image-bearers. Now that we are both His children and His bride, chosen out of the human race to live with Him forever, would we expect more or less than Eden?”  - Randy Alcorn, Heaven
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