Creature of Habit
September 22, 2024
The red-shouldered hawk sits on a no parking sign at the end of the parking lot, deep in the shadow, under the oak trees. Most days I find her there when I arrive before sunrise. Sometimes I find her there again after the sun comes up. She does not like to have her picture taken, but she’s stopped flying away when I walk by at a respsectful distance, as long as I don’t try to take her photo.
The egrets arrive in August and forage in the patch of green that’s just out of camera reach on the south end of the big cove. Year after year I find them in that same spot, rarely in the closer patch the blue herons favor. They also like the peninsula to the north but they rarely choose the locations in between until the sun is well overhead.
The kingfisher has favorite morning perches too, though she has only recently arrived from wherever she spent the summer. She likes the low, yellow, “slippery when wet” sign or the pole that held the volleyball nets before they took them down for the winter. She prefers one particular buoy in the water. Like the hawk, she has no tolerance for this photographer, even when I move slowly and quietly and keep my distance.
Each hummingbird that has claimed my feeder has particular branches in the willow tree where they like to perch. They have not all used the same perch as other hummingbirds, but once they pick a perch they seem to stick with it until they leave. Even the dragonflies will fly the same pattern over and over across the lake. I’ve been watching one dragonfly every morning for a week and I can almost trace his pattern.
I too am a creature of habit, and like my feathered friends, my habits shift slightly with each season. Life feels easier as the sunrise moves back to allow a little more time between waking up and walking out the door. I rise, brush my teeth, make tea, and empty the dishwasher. As the space grows, I will add a little qigong. Somehow this routine feels more settling than the shorter routine of mid-summer.
When I pick up my farm share each week, I park in the same place in the high school parking lot. One day there was a car parked there so I parked somewhere else. Our farmer noticed and said, “You aren’t in your parking spot!” In the winter our pickup is in a different location, and I have a routine there as well. Even though the routine shifts twice a year, both routines feel comfortable and comforting.
I sleep better when I go through the same routine in the last hour before bed - gentle stretching, qigong with healing sounds, and a tense and release process. I often find myself inexplicably pushing into that time with other tasks even though it is so enjoyable.
The road I usually take to the lake had been closed since the end of June due to a washed-out bridge. Ironic, since we’ve been solidly in a drought since that time. The road I usually take is a back road with few street lights and very little traffic. The road I’ve been taking is through the busiest part of our suburb with lots of traffic and lights.
The road reopened this week and I am driving it again. Surprisingly, it’s felt a little uncomfortable after three months of going a different way. When it closed in mid-summer, I was driving it in the light as I rarely got out much before (and sometimes after) sunrise. Now it is dark. Most years, this transition would have been gradual and I wouldn’t have noticed but this year it was sudden and is taking a little getting used to.
It’s curious in a world that is always changing that most creatures, including myself, seem to find comfort and safety in what stays the same. It’s curious why I sometimes don’t stick to the routine I know helps me relax. It’s curious how hard it can be to break a habit that isn’t good for me and replace it with one that is - and that sometimes it is easier than I expect.
I think I should be more adventurous. I think I should be more flexible. I think I should be more “easy going”. Yet as I watch my feathered friends I realize I’m more like them than I imagine. I am adaptable and resilient and capable of changing when it’s required, even if sometimes I don’t accept the change as easily as others. I am always learning something new and if I look at my routines from year to year, they have changed.
My persistence which helps me keep a routine also helps when change is needed. I changed my diet dramatically in January and I have stuck with it for nine months. The new diet is now the pattern - and when I have to alter it, such as for the recent colonoscopy, it makes me anxious. I changed the way I work, sit, and stand after having sciatica in 2022. I’ve stuck with the changes and the exercises the therapist gave me for two years now and added additional movement practices to help. Relief from pain and suffering certainly makes it easier to stick with a change.
I wonder when and where I got the idea that I’m not flexible and adventurous “enough”? Is it true? Am I, as Anne Lamott says, comparing my insides to other people’s outsides? The heron, the hawk, and the kingfisher do not like it when their patterns are altered. They let me know with a loud squawk or scream. Sometimes I’d like to squawk, maybe I should try it!
Let me show you how kingfisher deals with an interloper who tries to change up his routine:
As we reach the fall equinox, I think about balance. I wonder if my flexibility and persistence are in balance and if not, what would help them to shift? What’s on your mind on this day of equal light and dark?
Wonderful post and images, Karen. Those photos of the Belted Kingfishers chasing one another are amazing. That 3rd last photo of the two kingfishers is awesome.
I find those routines are nice for balance and also good to change up as well. I got that sense of staleness on my morning hike today as well. Typically I hike at my local conservation area in a counter clockwise loop.
I do not know why, but this morning to changed things up and decided to hike the loop clockwise. It was a nice change of pace and I encountered wildlife that I likely would not have seen had I followed my usual routine.
Started reading on the cusp of summer into fall, autumn equinox was 8:43am EDT. That seems no coincidence. Your egret photo is sublime, so perfect. Also smiling wide at the kingfishers. I find peace sitting on my overstuffed chair outside just observing. Asters are being visited by the bees, so happy that there is a succession of bloom to take care of them. A spider has taken up residence under the lip of a large flower pot and built its web around where it sits. Seems to be more crickets and brown grasshoppers now than usual. Want to think more about patterns of life and how I align with other members of the natural world. Thanks for being a springboard for that.