Davidson Woods

Jack Pine Warbler - May 28, 2012
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
Every serious birder must make a pilgrimage to Michigan to see the Kirtland’s or “Jack Pine” Warbler. This small, lively, song bird breeds in scrublands of Jack Pine that form naturally after wild fires. The tree is a phoenix, highly flammable, and thriving on arid sand ridges of the upper Midwest. Its small cones mature and remain tightly closed, sealed by a wax-like resin that melts away when heated to allow the cone to open. After a fire the seeds float away from the charcoal branches to reseed the land. In a few years the young
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTEvery serious birder must make a pilgrimage to Michigan to see the Kirtland’s or “Jack Pine” Warbler.  This small, lively, song bird breeds in scrublands of Jack Pine that form naturally after wild fires.  The tree is a phoenix, highly flammable, and thriving on arid sand ridges of the upper Midwest.  Its small cones mature and remain tightly closed, sealed by a wax-like resin that melts away when heated to allow the cone to open.  After   a fire the seeds float away from the charcoal branches to reseed the land.  In a few years the young trees form a tangle in which the birds find places to next on the ground. Before modern settlement there were always large patches of suitable habitat, but forest management and fire suppression effectively reduced the scrub so that in the latter half of the Twentieth Century, the bird had become endangered.  Efforts to restore the species were failing when a large fire seemed to doom the species.  Then, to the surprise of the wildlife managers, the population rebounded where the fire had reopened the land. Today, the practice is to log a section of a few square miles each year and plant Jack Pine.  Five years later the birds move in and thrive for about a decade before moving into another prepared tract.  The federal and state governments spend about three million dollars each year to maintain the population.  That may seem rather an extravagance to provide something of interest only to birders, but for now the program is funded.  If it is ended, the bird is likely to go extinct in a few decades. So, we come to Michigan and stop first at Tawas Point on the Lake Huron coast of the upper lower peninsula.  We joined the birding festival that is hosted there by various Michigan bird clubs.  We camped with the RV on a little peninsula that collects small birds on migration.  Much of the festival involved walks there to see  birds that nest in the far north and winter in the tropics.  These birds tend not to stay in one place and are not easy to see, but now in full-blown breeding plumage on their way to the nesting grounds often pause on points of land before flying across large bodies of water.  Birders have smiles on their faces seeing these gems feeding among the alders and spruces scattered across the lake front.  We, however, on the first day joined a bus trip to the nesting grounds of the Kirtland’s Warbler.  Our guide was a USFS ranger who briefed us on the bird and the maintenance program.  Passing from a section of tall trees to open Jack Pine scrubland, we opened the windows and listened for the distinctive song of the rare bird.  Hearing it, the bus stoped and we climbed out.  Of course, the birds stopped singing and silence reigned.  I spotted a distant bird on a snag, but it was a common Nashville Warbler.  We paused. Then, we heard the song, sort of a “chuckle, chuckle, weyo weyo weyo.”  In a few moments someone spotted the bird on a pine snag about a hundred meters from the sand road.  All binoculars pointed in that direction.  The bird stayed.  In a minute, we had our scope on it for close looks.  Another started singing on the opposite side of the road and we watched him too.  Another “life-bird” in the bag. I find it hard to estimate our cost to see this bird.  This four-week Michigan trip will probably cost us a couple of thousand dollars, but it is probably not quite fair to charge that all to this bird.  We are enjoying scenery and a number of other birds on this expedition.  We also hope to see or at least hear another life-bird before it is over.  Our cost for the festival was about two hundred dollars, but we could have seen the bird without joining the festival which provided educational and social rewards as well as opportunities to bird. So, no matter what estimate I put on the cost for this bird, someone in the Congressional Budge Office could complain it is unreasonable.  I’ll probably put it down as $2,000.  We would not have come to Michigan this spring except for this bird.  Of course, doing this, I will have to consider any second life-bird on this trip as a free bonus.  We find Michigan to be sandy.  Most of the bedrock is Cambrian sandstone, but even that is well covered by sand that has been moved around by glaciers and wind.  The land is relatively flat and today covered in the south by crops and in the north by forests.    On the Lower Peninsula the forests are largely Red Pine except where managed for the warbler.  We are now on the Upper Peninsula.  Here there are also fine red pine forest and jack pine uplands and spruce and cedar wetlands.  Not much agriculture up here, the prices are higher, and the people are poorer.  Mostly lovely unsettled country with vacation homes along the lake shore.  We arrived among the “Yuppies” of the Upper Peninsula (as opposed to the “Trolls” who live south of the Mackinaw bridge) to stay at the Lower Falls Campground of Taquamenon State Park near Whitefish Point.  We settled in and went driving to bird the next morning.  Our jaunt was interrupted by a phone call.  A little forest fire had got away and was thriving.  This area is suffering draught and on that day a northwest wind was blowing a twenty knots.  We returned quickly to unmoor the motor home.  The campground was fogged with smoke.  We moved around the point and down the east coast a bit to here at the Rivermouth Campground.  Ours was a minor problem.  At least thirty houses and cottages as well as a motel and a store were destroyed.  This is somewhat of a resort community that has had an awful Memorial Day Weekend! The residents have been remarkably upbeat about the whole thing and very hospitable to us.  We were disappointed that a night tour of the natinal wildlife refuge had been cancelled.  There is another at the end of this week.  We hope that goes.  It is our best chance to find the Yellow Rail, our second potential life-bird of this trip.  We have never before been displaced by fire. Except for the fire the trip has been punctuated with only small excitements.  We met a former neighbor from York on the boardwalk at Magee Marsh in Ohio.  Yesterday, driving in search of spruce grouse, the car became mired in soft sand.  After careful review of the situation, I had Anne push as I reversed the car down the hill and off the road.  She got in and I drove through the woods around the soft patch and back onto the road.  We had already turned around seeing that the road was not fit for anything less than all-wheel drive.  We sighed when we returned to the hard gravel road and I remarked that our auto was now an “Off Road Vehicle.” The mosquitoes have not been too bad yet.  The instructions for our night tour of Seney Marsh said to bring mosquito netting.  We have it.  This evening it showers and every drop of rain is welcome in northern Michigan. We plan a hike tomorrow, but showers are forecast.  Perhaps they will put out the fire which is now only “45% contained.”  That would be great news.  The day after tomorrow we move west to Picture Rocks National Lakeshore where we will stay for four nights.  Rumor has it that the rare Philadelphia Vireo nests in a birch grove nearby.  We will see.
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May 11, 2012 - South Mountain
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
A fabulous day on South Mountain, and we are preparing to depart for a birding tour of Michigan. A swarm of hundreds of thousands of birds is moving north across the continent. The crowd diminishes with distance as many drop out, but those heading farther north often pause at the great lakes. No wise bird flies across open water without refueling, and most fly at night to avoid nasty predators. So, the lakefront is a good place to look for birds in May and early June.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTA fabulous day on South Mountain, and we are preparing to depart for a birding tour of Michigan.  A swarm of hundreds of thousands of birds is moving north across the continent.  The crowd diminishes with distance as many drop out, but those heading farther north often pause at the great lakes.  No wise bird flies across open water without refueling, and most fly at night to avoid nasty predators.  So, the lakefront is a good place to look for birds in May and early June. This week started out soggy, so we delayed provisioning the RV until yesterday.  Now she is almost ready.  My sister will be taking mother here for Mother's Day, so we will move in on Sunday to make room for guests.  Spending a night in the rig before departure is a good way to confirm that you have everything. This trip will be considerably different from our last, a nine-day hike from Groseclose to Pearisburg VA.  That one went very well.  We are now left with about 150 miles to complete our walk of the Appalachian Trail.  We drove to Pearisburg where we spent the night at the Holiday Lodge.  After a last "civilized" breakfast at the Dairy Queen, Buck drove us to Groseclose.  The morning was damp with a few showers and warm.  This being our second backpack of the month, we walked well across the Great Valley and over a ridge of the ridge-and-valley section of the Appalachians.  We were ready to stop then, but entered a three-mile section where camping was prohibited.  After that we crossed a very low birdge across a creek and found a campsite along a tributary.  After supper a whip-poor-will began calling.  Wonderful.  Just as we went to bed, a shower arrived.  No problem, but during the night three thunderstorms pelted our valley.  At dawn, just as we were waking, another struck.  We waited a bit, broke camp in the rain, and hiked another two miles to a shelter where we made breakfast.  The rain finally eased and we resumed our walk.  A half mile down the trail we came to an  stream impassible in flood and returned to the shelter until Noon.  After lunch the rain almost stopped and we started again.  The stream was still roaring, and I dropped a couple of small logs across it.  We progressed to where four young women had made camp and remainded there.  We harrassed them a bit for tarrying and crossed a bridge over a roaring creek. A half mile farther downstream the trail recrossed the creek, this time without a birdge.  The crossing should have been a rock hop, but instead it was a thirty-foot wide roaring river.  We gave up the hike for that day, having progressed only three miles.  We would have to make up another eight over the next seven days.  The women decided they wanted to go on and did so at 4:30 in the afternoon.  We walked with them to the crossing and I gave advice on making it.  They made the first leap, all but one keeping their feet dry.  We wished them well.  Later we learned that they had to wade up to their waist to cross the floodplain to a bridge across a small river.  What a day and what a set of storms.  All the hikers in the section had a difficult day.  We also heard that the bridge we crossed the previous day was closed.  Hikers had to make a two-mile detour around it. After that the weather improved and we enjoyed the spring forest immensely.  The canopy remained open on the ridges until the end of the hike, allowing us to better observe the flocks of birds moving north.  Almost each day we saw new year-birds.  Most fun was observing a migrating flock of worm-eating warblers.  These birds typically remain concealed in the shadows of rhododendron thickets, but we saw them clearly moving across the canopy and making their insect-like buzzy song.  On the second to last day the blackburnian warblers appeared to show off their flame-colored throats and make their high-pitched song as they swept across the mountains. The wildflower show we enjoyed on our first hike this year continued.  This section of trail included flame azaleas, pincter flowers, and Catawba rhododendron.  They put on a fine show. On most evenings we enjoyed the company of fellow hikers who were camped nearby at campsites or shelters.  Anne taught some of them our dice game "Greedy" which provided an opportunity to converse about plans and experiences.  Most hikers are young, but we met a pair of seventy-year old women, a pair of Austrailian brothers, and a wonderful couple from New Hampshire who are hiking the trail much as we are in retirement. We enjoyed one night off the trail at a motel in Bland (appropriately named The Big Walker Motel after a mountain of that name) where we laundered, bathed, and enjoyed restaurant food.  We restored our schedule and got ahead of it on our last afternoon.  We walked off the mountain and down to the New River crossing in the morning.  Then we walked to our car and drove to The Bear Den Restaurant where we greatly enjoyed a grand hamburger for lunch.  We made the long drive home that day, stopping for supper in Chambersburg PA.  In this past week we visited my mother, caught up on chores, and recovering from a hard hike for senior citizens.  I also installed a new flat (and much lighter) television in the RV.  We enjoyed the company of our neighbors prepare for this busy weekend.  My college tells me I graduated 40 years ago.  Hard to believe, but I take their word for it.  We will drive to Philadelphia to take another look at the place and share a picnic lunch with classmates.  On Sunday, we have company here.  Then we're off on our next adventure.  There we will be able to maintain communications.  So, more on that later.
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April 19, 2012 - South Mountain
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
Alone tonight, I write a blog. Anne and I successfully completed some 134 miles on the Appalachian Trail in Virginia finishing up last Saturday. The walk went well starting out warm and ending up chilly. The trees in the valleys had greened up, but those on the ridges remained in gray dormancy. The wildflowers were putting on a show everywhere. Trilliums and star chickweed were especially abundant.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTAlone tonight, I write a blog.  Anne and I successfully completed some 134 miles on the Appalachian Trail in Virginia finishing up last Saturday.  The walk went well starting out warm and ending up chilly.  The trees in the valleys had greened up, but those on the ridges remained in gray dormancy.  The wildflowers were putting on a show everywhere.  Trilliums and star chickweed were especially abundant.  We met about a dozen early through-hikers who had started in Georgia before the end of winter.  We will cruise south to Virginia again on Tuesday to walk another ninety miles.  On this hike we expect to see more birds.  The great spring migration is underway. Home again we work with my mother to sell the house and transfer joint assets to her name.  A slow process, but it comes along.  We returned home so that Anne could join a quilting retreat in Pennsylvania.  She has abandoned me for a few days.  Our feet needed the rest in any case.  I’d like to say I am taking the opportunity to do nothing, but in fact am working through a list of chores.  Today I made a frame on which to mount a new flat panel television in the motorhome.  With prices down, we bought to reduce the weight in the rig.  We had to wrestle out the old cathode ray tube television.  It went to auction with my mother’s excess property from the house. I’m also making final preparations for the hike next week and making final arrangements for our RV cruise of Michigan that is scheduled for late May through early June.  Looking for birds there.  After that we return here for a couple of weeks before going to Cherokee where Anne will work for six weeks.  Alex has made arrangements to come visit while we are there.  He enjoys both the climbs and whitewater paddling. Our schedule is full, but we are having fun with all of it.
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March 27, 2012 - South Mountain
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
Reflecting on our planned two week hike starting on Monday, I realize that the past four months have been tumultuous. We enjoyed them but were stressed and separated by the decline and death of my father and also challenged to provide necessary support to Anne’s parents in Florida during January and February. My return to PA for two weeks in February for Dad’s end made that tougher for both of us. We sorely missed each other.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTReflecting on our planned two week hike starting on Monday, I realize that the past four months have been  tumultuous.  We enjoyed them but were stressed and separated by the decline and death of my father and also challenged to provide necessary support to Anne’s parents in Florida during January and February.  My return to PA for two weeks in February for Dad’s end made that tougher for both of us.  We sorely missed each other.  Back in PA we have wrestled with probate for my Dad and supporting my mothers adjustment to life without Dad.  She is not sure continuing chemotherapy is worthwhile.  We think it is, but in any case the house must be sold and property unsuitable or unnecessary at the senior housing apartment must also be disposed of. We drove to Cape May to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day with the couple who introduced us and also found wintering waterfowl before their retreat.  For those of you who have never seen them, long-tailed ducks swimming in the surf are fabulous. We rendezvoused with Elley at my sister’s in Princeton then next day.  That was joyful.  Then on Monday, we and Laurie drove to York to begin cleaning out my parent’s house.   We found that they had a hoarding tendency.  Probably every box that had arrived there during their nineteen years of tendency was still in the basement.  I flattened them and formed a fifteen-foot long and three-foot high stack of cardboard in the middle of the garage.  We had hoped to put out the trash but finally had to call a hauler.  Each night we were exhausted. We segregated items Mom or we wanted to keep.  The balance of goods and furniture will go to auction.  We met realtors and made a contract.  We arranged for auction of furniture and assorted items.  We cleaned but still contacted for pressure washing outside, carpet cleaning inside, and general cleaning after the furniture is removed.  We thought we would finish in a few days but stayed through Friday night.  Returning home I realized that personal business, finances, and taxes had to be addressed before the start of our hike.   We also had to prepare the RV (our base camp for the hike) as well as the gear and food for our 14-day walk.  This has been a very busy week.  I have wondered if we should go ahead with the walk, but the reservations are made and we need the time without chores or responsibilities.  Spring has reached the valleys, and while the ridges will be bare, the vistas should be wonderful.  We will trek from Daleville near Roanoke to Rockfish Gap at the south end of Shenandoah National Park.  We found a campground about two-thirds of the way from the south end and will set our RV there.  We will drive to a point about one-third the way from the south end and park.  A “shuttler” will drive us to the starting point at the south end.   We will walk back to our car in four days and drive back to the RV for a night off the trail with normal food, bathing, and laundry.  The next morning we will drive back to where we left off and walk on to the RV.  After another night off the trail, we will drive the RV to recover the auto, return the RV to its spot, and drive the car to the north end of the section.  We will then hike south to the RV.  Reaching it, we will drive home, picking up the car along the way.  A second, shorter hike is planned for the end of April into early May from Atkins VA to Pearisburg VA.  The mountains should be completely green for this walk and the wildflowers should be peaking.  Finishing that walk, we will have only the section from the North Carolina/Tennessee border across Tennessee and Virginia to Damascus Virginia left to complete the A.T.  We will probably make that walk in 2013.  We invite friends and family to join us or meet us in the Mount Rogers area when we make that final walk. Tomorrow I tackle the taxes.  On Friday I finish loading my pack.  On Saturday we load up the RV.  On Sunday, we set out.  Wish us well.  A hike is always an adventure. 
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February 25, 2012 - Ft. Myers
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
Late morning, I am alone, well rested, and with no pressing matters - at least until three o’clock, when I have to pick up Joe, Mark, and Rob at the airport and convey them to the Estero Island Beach Club. Anne is taking Mom and Dad Woods and Mom Strehl there now. I remain at the condominium and should be working on the two-weeks of mail - bills, 1099’s and the like - that has accumulated since I left to go to York for my father’s final days. Looking at it all and considering my mood of peaceful relief, I decided it could wait a little longer. I hav
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTLate morning, I am alone, well rested, and with no pressing matters - at least until three o’clock, when I have to pick up Joe, Mark, and Rob at the airport and convey them to the Estero Island Beach Club.  Anne is taking Mom and Dad Woods and Mom Strehl there now.  I remain at the condominium and should be working on the two-weeks of mail - bills, 1099’s and the like - that has accumulated since I left to go to York for my father’s final days.  Looking at it all and considering my mood of peaceful relief, I decided it could wait a little longer.  I have not been without pressing demands since I was last here.  I pause to provide succor for myself. All of the time since I began the drive north on Friday, February 10 has not been bad, and I have learned how through the years to take that deep breath and take stock rather than run in circles during a crisis.  I enjoyed seeing redbud trees blooming in north Florida during the drive.  I laughed with the staff of Autumn House and Heartland (hospice) Services when care went well or when there was the occasional confusion.  I jogged on each of the last six days in York.  My sister Laurie and I shared three drinks of my mother’s Canadian whiskey at 3:30 in the morning after my Dad passed and was removed by the undertaker.  We celebrated his life and that he was gone after a prolonged and uncomfortable dying. Mostly, in the past two weeks, I have been dealing with things.  I drove quickly to York and visited my parents.  Dad was weak, skin and bones, but gave me a faint greeting.  Mom took the strong hug.  Soon Laurie and my brother Jim appeared.  I last saw him in the spring of 2009 when Anne and I visited him in Eugene OR.  Laurie had taken off work on the same Friday I started north to drive to York, open up  Mom and Dad’s house, and pick Jim up at the Harrisburg airport that evening.  He had not seen Mom and Dad in perhaps a decade.  This meeting constituted the first reunion of Dad and all his children in many decades.  Then began the wait.  We tried to have someone sitting with Dad most of the time except overnight.  The double bed had been replaced with a hospital bed for Dad and a twin bed for Mom.  She would still sleep close to him at night.  We had to manage his care and consult and watch with the various staff from both the home and the hospice firms.  In addition to providing comfort for Dad and Mom and addressing his care with staff, we had to manage our own needs and housekeeping at the house where we siblings stayed.  Jim stayed a week.  We didn’t believe Dad would survive that long.  He and Dad enjoyed a final visit and farewell before Dad faded off.  Laurie, pressed by work, returned to Princeton in the middle of the first week and came back on the weekend.  She stayed through the MLK holiday and then another day when Dad died just after Midnight on Tuesday, February 21.  I was planning to be back here by then, but knew I was in for the duration. After the long wait for death, it came as a bit of a surprise.  The declines seemed precipitous, so I guess it should have been no shock that he looked no worse on the evening of the 20th than he had the preciding day and would die in a few more hours.  I held Dad’s shoulder and hand and wished him a good night at about nine o’clock in the evening.  We had put Mom to bed already.  She had taken little sleep the previous night.  The Autumn House nurse came in late that evening and noticed his breathing had changed.  She called the Heartlands nurse who arrived shortly after Midnight.  She checked Mom and sat with Dad.  He took his last breath at 12:43 A.M.  She woke Mom as the staff cleaned Dad.  Then she called me.  I woke Laure and we were there in a few minutes.  The tears had already been shed.  The death was a relief.  He looked as he had for days, lying on the bed, mouth open for air.  The struggle for that liquor of life had ceased.  I touched my head to his and held his hand a last time.  We sat down with the young counselor from hospice and chatted.  It would be an hour before the undertaker would arrive.  There was time.  Mom sat back and dozed.  We spoke of Dad and shared the relief that the suffering was over.  There was no sudden sorrow for the loss, his life had been ebbing for more than a month, and we had not heard from him for days.  The undertaker, Tye, a fine hunk of a man, arrived.  We aroused Mom for Dad’s departure.  We were ready.  Dad was rolled, the bag was placed underneath him and then zipped up around him.  Tye had brought in a gurney, reached across it, and gave Dad a trial lift.  Then he firmly and gently lifted him up and across towards him and onto the gurney.  I and the staff members were impressed.  I helped with the door and watched as Tye and a nurse took the gurney away.  Then I turned back into the room and closed the door knowing that my father was gone forever. My parents had wisely made previous arrangements.  In fact they made arrangements in 1997.  They doubted they would survive the decade.  Instead they survived to 2001, the start of this Century, through the Naughts, and into the Teens.  We spent only a few minutes with the Undertaker making arrangements.  I suggested that the rates have probably gone up since the contract was made.  He said that the rates had gone up in 2010.  I chuckled at that and showed him the contract.  His eyes rolled and he said, “Oh yes, it has gone up much from that!” With Dad gone, we put my mother to bed and went back to the house.  That is when Laurie and I shared the celebration whiskey.  The home had brought us coffee upon our arrival.  We needed to become less cerebral and were not ready for sleep.  We shared emotions and became tired in about an hour.  Then we slept for a couple of hours.  There was still much to do on that day. We breakfasted and returned to the home.  The obituary had been written.  Only the date had to be added.   Laurie did that and called the newspaper.  Then she sent an e-mail to the newspaper.  Ah, the wonders of the 21st Century.  The obituary is available on-line too.  I had gently offered to Mom to return with me to Florida and take a week away from the home there if she wished.  She said yes, and arrangements had to be made.  I had hoped to leave the next day.  That turned out not to be possible.  Laurie left on Wednesday morning, but Mom and I still had a few chores.  She wanted a different apartment.  Dad had come into that apartment to die.  There were few good memories there. We finished getting  Mom packed for Florida just after lunch.  She was ready to nap.  I left her to pack myself and to again shut down the house.  I finished a beautiful mild February afternoon with a second jog of the day, knowing I would be driving for two days.  Then I dined alone and went to bed realizing that it was the first night I had not shared that house with someone.  I also thought how mightily I missed Anne.  I set the alarm for six a.m. The drive went well.  We stopped at my house to drop off some things and took the I-81, I-77, I-95, I-10, US 301, and I-75 route to Ft. Myers.  We reached Columbia and found a  coupon for a comfortable $46 Red Roof Inn.  Yesterday, slowed by construction, we reached the condominium at about six o’clock in the evening.  Anne had left us hamburgers.  She and Mom and Dad Woods were at the beach with Jim, Sheila, and Pam.  Mom Strehl and I would miss them.  They are on the way home as I write.  Mom Woods was anxious to get to the beach this morning ahead of the brothers.  Dad, of course, slowed the departure.  I helped Anne load the car and board everyone.  Then I gave Anne a second good-bye.  We have been behaving as young lovers since our reunion taking many hugs, holding hands and kissing after our long separation.  So they left and I take my pause.  Now, already it is Noon and I will take lunch.  I post this for your pleasure and for my memory. Chuck
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A Long Wait - February 18, 2012
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
Richard Feinman reportedly commented that the trouble with dying was that it is too d. boring. It is also miserably uncomfortable. At least modern medicine and - for now - the law allows it to be relatively painless.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTRichard Feinman reportedly commented that the trouble with dying was that it is too d. boring.  It is also miserably uncomfortable.  At least modern medicine and - for now - the law allows it to be relatively painless.  My Dad was ready to die a couple of months ago.  Now the time really has come, but after a week of waiting, he is skin and bones in his bed.  Yesterday he could speak single words.  Today none.  We pose questions and look for a nod or shake of the head in response.  "Juice?  Shake?  Ice?  Shake.  Water?  Nod. The Autumn House nurses and the hospice staff are helpful and supportive, but institutional silliness persists.  His three meals are brought into the room, but he has eaten nothing more solid than apple sauce for a week.   We try to have someone sitting near him most of the time during the day.  Thankfully he sleeps at night.  The sitter provides a strawful of water or helps him urinate as needed.  We greet him when we come and say good by when we go.  I speak of the weather and of nonsense.  He does not want me to read aloud.  My sister is back.  She had to report to work last Tuesday.  My brother stayed five days and said his final good by.  I drove him to the airport and, after dropping him off, parked along the Susquehanna River for a few minutes admiring its spring flow and seeing goldeneye and widgeon ducks beginning their northward migration.  Then I returned to relieve the hospice volunteer who provided the reprieve. My mother knows he is leaving but is surprised each time there is a significant decline.  Real dying is more unpleasant than the words used to describe it.  We do hope that he passes during one of his rests, but the border between wakefullness and sleep blurs with weakness and with the medically induced narcosis.  None of us know exactly how we will feel when the end finally comes.  Is it wrong to hope for some joy when the struggle is finally over?  I am here for the duration, missing my Anne and my routine, but very glad to be able to stay.  I thank everyone who has wished us the best in this difficult time.  The moral support of family and friends provides important comfort even if actual help is unnecessary.  It has been said that love and decency make this world work.  I believe that.  During this trial I have been reading "Middlemarch."  This difficult and dated work probes closely the workings and flaws of community and shows how wonderful good people can be and how their efforts make a better community despite the greed and unkindness of fools.  I urge all to take the challange to read this book closely.  I warn that to do so requires casting asise the distractions of our modern world.  You must read each word to bring out the wonder of the tale. (Sorry about the spelling.  I didn't have time to create this report, check spelling, and transfer to this page.)
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Church Provided Contraception - Some Thoughts
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
Considerable excitement, controversy, and name calling is being generated by a government decision to require religious employers who regard contraception to be sin to provide insurance coverage for contraception to their employees.

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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTConsiderable excitement, controversy, and name calling is being generated by a government decision to require religious employers who regard contraception to be sin to provide insurance coverage for contraception to their employees.  I have sympathies on both sides of the argument over whether this decision is correct, but here reflect on the whole question resulting from the crazy concept of our paying indirectly for services we need or want.  Certainly I may wish to purchase contraception even if I work for a Catholic hospital and I don’t want my employer making decisions about my health care.  But why should contraception be paid for by insurance at all?  This is a simple question, but the answer is enormously complicated and suggests the problem of the government being in the health care business. Health care is a a special service.  Without it we may face discomfort or death.  With it we suffer the same fate, but certainly good health care provides a longer and more comfortable life.   For this we may be willing to make considerable payment.  More, we hate to see those suffering from poverty denied health care.  Therefore we have increasingly devoted our labor to providing for medical benefits to ourselves and the poor.   This is a good thing. Medical care has, however, become more intense, somewhat better, and enormously more expensive in part to do with increasing resources provided by our society.  A popular view that everyone, regardless of the ability to pay, should receive the same level of care is making health care unaffordable to everyone.   During World War II when wages were “controlled” (always a bad idea) businesses began providing health insurance to employees to evade the law.  Employer provided insurance was seen as good in part because it resulted in more people having insurance.  Congress institutionalized the practice by allowing employer paid premiums not to be counted as employee income when income taxes became significant.  So even after wage controls were lifted, many employers continued to provide health “benefits.”  We may not remember that once upon a time income taxes were imposed only on “the rich”  and we still ignore the gross unfairness of exempting health benefits from income. Still, after all this, many workers were not provided insurance by employers.   As may be expected, some of these people purchased hospitalization insurance.  Others did not and risked for themselves and their children denial of care, bankruptcy, or only charity care if stricken with a serious illness.  This was viewed as unfortunate and to solve the problem laws were passed to require hospitals to treat patients regardless of their ability to pay.  Hospitals swallowed hard and tried to recover losses from uninsured patients by increasing charges to patients who did pay.  Hospitals also demanded that government begin to provide compensation for this charity care.   Medicaid was born.  As a result, medicine became a peculiar business.  Most patients have insurance paid for by others (employers or government.)  The patients want the best of care, and hospitals provide it.  Wards gave way to semi-private rooms and finally private rooms.  New treatments were developed.  Cost didn’t matter.   Insurers had to pay the reasonable cost even if the cost was obscene.  Organ transplants became common, and drugs were developed that are needed by only a few patients.   Today the cost for a round of chemotherapy may be $30,000, but insurance or the government will pay it.  The cost of medicine skyrocketed.  Today it is estimated at about $8,000 per person or $32,000 for a family of four.  This is simply ridiculous.  Most people would undoubtedly settle for a level of care that cost much less if they had to pay out of their own pocket.  Certainly the poor would prefer much lower cost care if they were purchasing it directly from welfare benefits provided as cash to them.    But neither employees nor welfare recipients are given much of a choice.  Increasingly the government is telling insurers what must be covered, and now government proposes to require everyone (most employers and individuals not insured through an employer)  to purchase insurance.  What is to be included is to be decided by the government.  So the government decides that contraception must be included and the church school must provide it to its employees.  Why should contraception be included.  It is a routine cost and one incurred by a relatively small group.  Poor children don’t need it and the elderly don’t need it, but the cost of their insurance will go up if it is in the policy.  Including contraception in insurance really amounts to a welfare payment to reproductively active adults. I do suggest that becoming sexually active is a declaration of adulthood.  Why is contraception to be included in insurance?  One argument is that most users of medical contraception are women.  That is correct, but usually there is a man involved if contraception is needed.  Another argument is that poor women need access to contraception.  That may be true, but some don’t, so would it not be much fairer to let them decide how best to use their welfare check?   Some may argue that the welfare check is not enough.  That may be, but then address the amount of welfare, don’t make health insurance unaffordable as a roundabout way to provide welfare benefits to all women.  Most women (and their men) are fully capable of affording contraception.  Another awful argument for having society pay for contraception is that poorer women will risk sex without it, and society will have to provide welfare to their children.  No, society does not have to pay for poor children.    With all the welfare programs in place from public housing and food stamps to medicaid and school breakfasts, lunches, and in some cases suppers, there are still hungry children.  As with health care, the best of intentions has lead to a mess.  We seem to be worse off than when parents were responsible to pay for their children. Society is no more responsible for paying to grow people’s children than it is to provide our medical care; and its efforts to do so have, if anything aggravated the problem.  People have become accustomed to others paying the cost of their children, even the cost of their college educations.  As a result we make poor decisions and become dependent on government.  Do we want to again become vassals and return to the glories of medieval society? (Read Thomas Moore’s bizarre Utopia for a description of a horridly prescribed society presented in a favorable light.  Decide if it is grand satire or if the author really believed that his utopia would be a good thing.)  I count my blessings as coming from a mercantile society.    I want the same opportunities for my descendants. Can it be that contraception is provided not or the benefit of the insured, but for the convenience of a society that feels obliged to care for people’s children but does not want so many?  Is that perverse?  For whatever combination of reasons, the government says that insurance must include contraception and that employers must provide insurance.  Thus a church employer must pay the cost of contraception.  If churches were exempted, their employees would have to pay directly for their own contraception.  The church provided insurance without contraception would be a little cheaper than insurance providing for contraception, but  church employees wouldn’t see this benefit because they don’t directly pay for health insurance.  They would likely feel somehow cheated.  What a tangled web we weave.  
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Fork-tailed Flycatcher - January 22, 2012 - Number 684
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
The cost for this new life-bird was about $25 for auto fuel.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTThe cost for this new life-bird was about $25 for auto fuel.  I am pleased to add this small elegant bird with a long streaming tail to my life-list, but sad that Anne concluded she could not break away to see it with me.  I waited a day in hopes she could find a means of escape before deciding to make the two-hour drive to Ruskin FL just south of Tampa  yesterday morning.  The bird was first found on Wednesday afternoon by Kentucky visiting birders, Don and Phyllis Pelty, and posted on the Internet by Brian Ahern of Tampa Bay late on Thursday.  I saw the posting on Friday when I was showing this website to guests in the evening.  The fork-tailed flycatcher is a widespread species ranging from central Mexico to Argentina.   An individual or two appears every couple of years somewhere within the United States, most often in Florida or elsewhere in the Southeast.  Sometimes the vagrant stays at a location for a week or more.  Often it is “a one-day wonder.”    Needless to say, I was ready to chase it on Saturday, but I put off the trip until Sunday.  It was reported present on Saturday afternoon. I departed Heritage Cove at 6:30 a.m. and arrived at Lost River Trail near Cockroach Bay at about 8:30.  This street and several side streets also with cul-de-sacs comprise a development stalled by the housing bust.  A couple of houses are built and occupied, but otherwise the development is a meadow adjacent to a strawberry farm and a state coastal preserve.  The developer continues to coarsely mow the vacant lots that line most of the streets.  This “hayfield” consist of a series of plateaus where houses will appear when “the economy recovers” and swales between the future lots.    Today this grassland adjacent to a state coastal preserve is fine open-land habitat.  I took exercise going up and down as I walked between the street and the water. I found about a dozen cars and twenty birders at the designated location.  I glanced at the group of people before parking and concluded that the bird was not in sight.  People were wandering and binoculars and scopes were pointed in various directions.  Inquiry confirmed that no one had seen the bird.  It was last reported about 4:30 on the previous afternoon.  The assembly location was along one of the vacant side streets between Lost River Trail and the cul-de-sac.  A couple of large trees stood near the cul-de-sac.  The bird used one of them as a perch on the previous afternoon.  To one side between the development and the strawberry farm was a marsh.  Beyond that was a wire fence line at the farm. I enjoyed watching a flock of cattle egrets and a few thousand tree swallows that were working the fields.  The swallows followed me as I coursed the fields and flushed insects.  I left the group and walked the length of the development first up one side and then back the other.  Lakes on either side sported various birds, but no fork-tailed flycatcher.  I found horned and pied-billed grebes, ducks, wading birds, and lots of savannah sparrows and palm and myrtle warblers along the way.  A few white-eyed vireos, red-winged blackbirds, a mockingbird, and a cardinal were singing. Returning to the group, I found the scene still quiet.  Someone mentioned finding a clay-colored sparrow in a different direction, and three of us wandered there to look for it unsuccessfully.  We wandered to the end of that street and were returning when we saw the group coming to attention.  It was ten a.m. I jogged and moved quickly across a ditch with a moist bottom to reach the birders who were all now looking in one direction.  I searched quickly with my glasses but could find nothing.  I asked where the bird was being seen and was told along the fence line across the marsh.  Looking there I spotted the bird as it took to flight, its tail streamers and black cap giving me a firm identification.  I watched as it returned to the fence to perch and dine on its booty.  Then I ran to the car and returned with the spotting scope.  In another minute I was seeing the bird well at 30 power.  Then I cranked the magnification to 50 power and took an even closer look.  I enjoy savoring a life-bird. The bird was feeding.  Its strategy is to sit on a perch with a view, then spotting an insect fly up to grab  it and return to its perch to dine and resume watching.  So, I could leave the scope on the bird for minutes at a time.  I didn’t watch continuously and would have to redirect the glass from time to time when the bird changed its perch along the fence line on post or wire.  I watched the occasional sortie through binoculars.  The group hung out, chatting and hoping the bird would fly across the water to us.  It did so in the afternoon, but I gave up the endeavor after about an hour.  I said I would be back at the condominium by mid-afternoon and wanted to explore Cockroach Bay before leaving.  So, after watching the bird for almost an hour, I left happy.  I had enjoyed another element of our avifauna and added other bird to my life-list.  Sixteen more to go to reach the milestone of 700.
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January 17, 2012 - Ft. Myers
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
A busy but successful day in the Sunshine State. We awoke early. Mom and Dad Woods said good-by to Mary Helen, then Anne and I took her to the airport for a return to New York. Leaving her there, we stopped at the Six-Mile Cypress Preserve to walk about the swamp on boadwalks. It was cold. We put on jacket and gloves.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTA busy but successful day in the Sunshine State.  We awoke early.  Mom and Dad Woods said good-by to Mary Helen, then Anne and I took her to the airport for a return to New York.  Leaving her there, we stopped at the Six-Mile Cypress Preserve to walk about the swamp on boadwalks.  It was cold.  We put on jacket and gloves.  We were the first to go down the trail and found it quiet.  Still, we found three new year-birds, green heron, black-crowned night-heron, and common yellowthroat.  The planertrees and red maples are already in full leaf, but the cypresses remain bare and stark.  A few blossoms of arrowhead emerged from the dark water.  The swamp was lovely. Our stay was short, two hours.  We made a quick stop at the post office before returning to the condominium.  We found time to jog before making lunch.  It had become warm and we were sweating when we finished.  Anne prepared little sandwiches, cottage cheese, and fruit for all of us.  In the afternoon we joined Mom and Dad in making phone calls and then worked to install a bird song recording package into an ipod.  The ipod has been a useful birding device in recent years, but my ipod died.  Anne had an old one from before she purchased an itouch.  We had the software, but the loading was an adventure.  It took more than an hour to load the bird song cd's and run the program.  Finally, mission seemed to be accomplished.  My lovely daughter had given me a new set of speakers, and they made the lovely sounds of birds.  I was done, but noticing that the ipod needed charging, I plugged it into the computer again.  This evening, "charged" was indicated and I turned off itunes and prepared to eject.  Then I noticed that there was no icon for the device which now indicated "connected - eject."  Not knowing how to eject something that wasn't shown, I simply unplugged it.  Now the device was frozen.  After a panic, I found an on-line suggestion that worked.  Hold in menu and center button at same time for several seconds.  Everything seems to be OK.  Ah, the anxiety of the 21st century.  Dinner was grand, spaghetti.  The evening is mild.  Our first warm evening of the year.  The palms sway in the breeze. Meanwhile, word from PA is good.  My Dad is comfortable with Mom at Autumn House.  She had a tooth pulled today and missed a spahetti dinner there.  Too bad.  We follow their progress from here now.
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January 8, 2012 - Crazy Weekend
Anne and Chuck submitted on January 16, 1970
On this overcast and freezing morning we might rather be in Fort Myers. But as ready as we may be, we remain in PA at least until Thursday. Still, we perceive a successful outcome to a battle of sorts that we have been engaged in for almost a month.

Dad Strehl is to be discharged from the rehab hosptial on Wednesday. He may be ready to die, but his body is not quite ready to give up.
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BLOG TITLEBLOG CONTENTOn this overcast and freezing morning we might rather be in Fort Myers.  But as ready as we may be, we remain in PA at least until Thursday.  Still, we perceive a successful outcome to a battle of sorts that we have been engaged in for almost a month. Dad Strehl is to be discharged from the rehab hosptial on Wednesday.  He may be ready to die, but his body is not quite ready to give up. Mom, realizing that she could not manage him and the home, agreed last week to a move to Autumn House where she may live "independently" but he will be provided "assisted living."  She signed the contract yesterday, but does not want to move in until Wednesday.  We encouraged she settle in tomorrow "to learn the ropes" before the challenge of Dad's arrival.  She insists on two more nights in her house.  So be it. Meanwhile, a cousin e-mailed two days ago reporting a plan to visit a daughter at college in Virginia.  She indicated that she could take my mother's big brother John and his wife Stella along and drop them off at York to visit my parents.  We screamed - how can we handle this! then calmly discussed the proposal with Mom and my sister Laurie.  The latter said she could take off Monday and would stay with our mother and the guests tonight.  Anne and I spent Yesterday in York and will return there shortly bearing lasagna.  We will also go in tomorrow when Mom's furniture will be moved.  My cousin will return to pick up her parents who will possibly make their last good-by's to my parents.  That will be a blessed, joyous, and sad event. With a bit of luck, my Dad will remain stable and have a comfortable move on Wednesday.  We will insure that he and Mom are set and go home to pack the car for Florida.  Mary Helen will be there with Mom and Dad Woods.  We look forward to joining her in providing gracious support and sharing the company of all there. We may be more house-bound this year, but will still enjoy watching cormorants, mottled ducks, ibis, and herons about Heritage Cove.  One of us may be forced home if there is a crisis in York, but otherwise will stay until March.  Our schedule will be determined in part by plan and in part by events.  We are fortunate to have made the time and resources to be able to provide support to parents near the end.  The weather graced us with almost a week of mild days in January.  For that we are most thankful.  But now we are hopeful of safety for my parents when we depart.  A battle is successfully concluded in the face of changing conditions, unexpected attacks, mistakes, and the typical fog of crisis.  The "war" is not over, but the turning point of this campaign seems to have been my mother's agreeing to the move.  Without that there would have been no end in sight to the uncertainty and demand for our being here.  I certainly did not want to have to send Anne to Florida alone.  Now that should not happen.  We are grateful to be able to maintain some sense of order, and hope that the experience of the past month will better enable us to manage future crises that are sure to come.  Certainly there will be unpleasantry, but we want to be able to provide comfort, support, and what joy we can to those who have given us so much.  When an end comes we hope it can be made comfortable and without terror.  Sadly we mere mortals must all face the end at some point, but making life good, dying is only the last thing we must do.  And so, we make what joy we can and see what tomorrow brings.
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