Sit Spot Balcony

Despite the sound of traffic. Despite the eversome view of the “DO NOT FEED ALLIGATORS” sign and the “pet waste” station (which I wish were a little further down the line). Despite the ever present aeration fountain, whose bright lights startle the dark of night, and whose constant running distracts from some of the traffic noise as well as the silence of the wee hours. Despite these things, there it is.

I’m grateful for my “Sit Spot Balcony”, overlooking a medium size pond. On any given day, in any given moment, there is a mindful experience to be had. Though I’ve always been observant of both the subtleties and profundities of Nature, my KSMOL training has helped me to continually expand these abilities. For that I am humbly grateful.

The current pandemic and resulting stay at home policies have given me both ample time and good reason to be spending more time on my second floor balcony. To the average person, this is a nice place to hang out, with much to observe. As a KMOG, the experience has a depth to it well beyond the most obvious.

From this vantage point, I’ve witnessed the wee hour call of the Great Horned Owl, accentuated by a rooftop flyover. This, on the dark and early morning that I was readying for my drive to Upstate New York, to bury my Mom.

The event of the recent Full Moon heralded in a chorus of Amphibian voices, the likes of which I have never experienced before now. And, though this event was particularly magnanimous, it has not been a single night performance, by any means. Sitting in mindfulness, and even standing at the end of the pond during this show, I easily visited with the different voices present. Even amongst the individual species, I could recognize the location and variance in depth of each vocalization. And, wait for it. Because, every so often, Bullfrog will offer in his bass to the overall medley.

Daytime here at the balcony is witness to any number of bird songs and visits. Wrens, Sparrows, Cardinals, Blackbirds, to name a few, filter through the immediate theater, and offer their call-ins from the wings. (No pun intended.)

Egret stealthily works his way around the pond edge, looking, stabbing, gulping. Every so often he spreads those great white wings for a quick flight to another point in the pond, or to chase off an intruder to his territory. Or perhaps, it’s time to visit another pond altogether.

But, Egret is not alone. Wood Stork, Great Blue Heron, Lesser Blue Heron, Mallards, Ibis and Geese all happen along in their own timing. A sudden splash can startle the awareness to a quick visit by Osprey, diving into the water from on high, and then he’s gone again. And of course, Crow and Vulture have their times to step onto the stage.

Watching the water, there are the constant ripples from the fountain, and the dance of the Wind across the surface. Even a quick jump from a fish, or dive of an Anhinga create ripples that act against the continuum, creating a crisscross effect. All of this with the ever changing Sun light sparkle against the depth of the pond color itself.

And that’s all without yet noticing the conversation between the breeze and the Trees, nor the spring time changes in the Pines, Maples, Palms that are immediately off my balcony.

Walk with me,

Peter J Quandt