Tag Archives: Nature

In a Heartbeat

In a Heartbeat

77 760 000 heart beats of a robin, 39 340 000 fallen leaves on the island dam, 9 072 000 heart beats for me, 246 000 migratory birds at lake constance, 17 300 people for democracy, 2398 lines of code, 830 kilometers on the bike, 462 hours of work, 91 sunrises, 35 bouldering sessions, and three full moons.

While we experienced the longest summer last year, from autumn to early spring felt like a single heartbeat. Is this a glimpse of the future?

The Guardian

The Guardian

They swarm in hundreds from below,
trudge through the meadows in a row,
to infiltrate the sacred realm,
to irritate, to overwhelm
the residents below the sky
who simply sigh and shy away –
their habitat is in decay
because of mankind's holiday.

A Large Family of Small Birds

A Large Family of Small Birds

‘Lately, we have been photographing many birds – I even bought a used lens for wildlife, but I am still struggling to use it properly.’

This is how I started this blog post – more than three years ago. It should’ve been my second post ever, but for some reason I never finished it. Until now.

One of the most dominant groups of birds in our region are tits, grouped together into the taxonomic family of Paridae. Especially during winter time they are omnipresent and like to cause havoc at the feeding stations. Still, they are absolutely lovely: Little balls of fluff, chirping around non-stop, and always bouncing around between the branches faster than any camera can focus. In total the family comprises 63(!) species, scattered mostly across the northern hemisphere and some regions of Africa. Because of their noisy nature, North American representatives of the family are also referred to as chickadees.

In Europe alone, there are great tits (Kohlmeisen), eurasian blue tits (Blaumeisen), marsh tits (Sumpfmeisen), coal tits (Tannenmeisen), willow tits (Weidenmeisen), and crested tits (Haubenmeisen). And for each of them, there are often close relatives in other geographic regions. For example, eurasian blue tits belong to the genus of Cyanistes which they share with african blue tits (Northern Africa and Canary Islands) and azure tits (parts of Asia); especially the latter are beautiful, check them out.

For some species, the classification as a tit came rather late due to their unusual appearance and habits: For example, ground tits and sultan tits have very distinct visuals and characteristics and were only included after analyzing their genomes. And to this date the debate about their exact systematics is still ongoing.

I also just recently discovered that our favorites, the long-tailed tits (Schwanzmeisen), taxonomically don’t even belong to the family of Paridae – and neither do penduline tits (Beutelmeisen) nor bearded seedlings (Bartmeisen)! We saw the latter just last autumn for the first time, check it out here. Thus, despite their deceptive German names they do not share a common ancestry with other tits inside the family of Paridae. Furthermore, penduline tits are sadly extinct in our region anyways and the last sighting of their nest in our region is already more than 7 years ago).

For more information I suggest you check out birdsoftheworld.org.

Seeking Exhaustion

Seeking Exhaustion

Drawn to the void inside
alloyed by sweat and tears,
in search for heavy feet
and pure joy on repeat.
I only fear the laziness
while trying to escape the years
to find instead the emptiness
out there, wide landscapes all around,
a place where thoughts do have no doubt.

Fern and Fog

Fern and Fog

Our island has plenty to offer: A vibrant tourist season, tranquility in winter, lovely walking trails and well-developed cycling paths, magical sunsets, and water all around that causes foggy mornings and provides habitat for many marine birds. What it doesn’t offer are woodlands. Before, I would often take my bike and drive to the woods, to wander around, to get lost between the trees, and admire their age and wisdom. Woodlands are soothing; they absorb stress. So it’s about time that I start to explore the woods on the mainland – just beyond the watery boundaries of our new home.

Back for More

Back for More

A brief break
to take a breath,
a brake in life
to take a step
back, two steps
onwards,
as soon awaits the biting cold – 
so, take your skates,
roll out and trust:
yourself,
and the ice shelf,
through faded sceneries
where bare trees house
jaded starlings 
left alone
within the snow,
I am still watching, though,
behind the door,
while the world awaits outside.

The Marina

The Marina

It’s a calm morning. Fog encloses the island and mutes the distant cars. The sailing ships are all lined up neatly, one after another, swaying gently on the waves. Next to the ships, there are the bollards. They are lined up neatly as well, ready to welcome any new arrivers. And then there is Gustav, the black-headed gull.

Gustav occupies one of the bollards, but he isn’t the only one. Next to him are all his mates – also, of course, lined up neatly: One bollard, one gull. As it should be. Gustav is satisfied. That’s how he likes his mornings. That’s how he likes his bollards. But then, a new arriver appears. And Gustav knows that there will be turmoil.

Before he can prepare himself, the attack from high above is in full swing. A quick stroke with the wing, a brief chop with the beak, and suddenly his neighbor is tumbling to the ground. Before the attacker can seize his earned place, two distant acquaintances of Gustav are already brawling for the now empty bollard. Claws get sharpened, feathers are plucked, with every passing second a new contender joins in. A whole squadron of coots start to cheer on the warfare. The snide remarks of Carl the cormorant echo across the water. Herbert the heron escapes quietly. Gustav tries to be as inconspicuous as possible.

The calm morning has turned to chaos – as every day.

The number of black-headed gulls around the lake has dropped profoundly over the last 30-40 years, presumably by more than 70%. It’s ‘just’ a local decline and most gulls seem to relocate to other areas. Apparently one reason is the increase in water clarity that comes with a reduced offer of food. While the gulls have been seen as a real nuisance in the past, they are now missed by many.