The Joy of the Twitch ~ Kentish Plover

I was working on the blog entries about the two glorious weeks with my dear friends on Richard Baxter’s Tours of Abundant Birding Bliss when a Kentish Plover was reported Wednesday in Sydney. Thank you Jesse Gibson for the post on the Twitchers Page!
   

Long story short, I just “did” it. For once I could use the close-by Avalon Airport (literally 5 minutes away). When I heard the bird was refound Thursday arvo, I ignored my anxiety and booked the first flight to Sydney Friday morning.
   

I was up at 3am Friday. Robert drove in from Parkes, NSW (he had no sleep) and collected first Christine at her Sydney home, then me at the airport. We drove to the spot (about 30 minutes from the airport). Then walked a few hundred metres down the water’s edge and arrived just as the tide was right and… there was the Plover hanging out with a few Red-caps. Joy, joy, joy.

 

Then the second best part of a twitch began, the tribe coming together. This wondrous joy flowed to and fro amongst us like magical energy. It was palpable and almost visible, like a glow passing between us. It was the love. It was the elation. It was friends sharing their passion in the very best way. Robert Shore and I took what is one of scores of Lifer Selfies we’ve taken together. I got to hug David Stowe and Jenny Stiles and Christine in person (lots of hugs going around). Robert and I went to a great little café suggested by Christine and had Lifer Pie (that is my phrase here in Australia!). Then I went back to that café again with other friends after Robert headed off for some much needed rest. 

David Stowe and Christine drove me to the airport. I was able to move my flight ahead and flew back to Avalon on a 3:30 flight (it ended up delayed a bit) arriving about 5:40 in the midst of 45 C heat down here in Lara (American friends, that is 113 F). I drove the five minutes to the house (closed up with aircon running) and collapsed with Lifer High still reverberating through me. It will echo on in my heart in the coming days, like distant thunder reminding me of the joy of the twitch.

These are photos by me and photos from friends. These birders are some of the “Tribe” on the twitch yesterday. I love birders. I love my tribe. I love y’all. I am up early again, but like I said, I am still running on Lifer High. I am also editing and culling more of my photos of the Plover. I just added a few photos of the plover. He is certainly one of my Christmas presents.

Photo by Jenny Stiles. The first in-person meeting of David Stowe and me. I love that guy and yet we had never actually met "live." 

The delightful Jenny Stiles in person

We did it again. Robert Shore and me in a Lifer Selfie

Photo by David Stowe... left to right, Lachlan Hall, Christine Sch, David, Robert Shore and me.

My early Christmas pressie... 

Stay tuned for the continuation of the Cocos/Christmas blogs. I will finish and post the next one soonish. Right now, I am just revelling in Lifer High.

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it’s real. I love y’all.

Cocos and Christmas Islands ~ Part One

The build up to going was huge for me. I first realised that I could, and then actually would, go on Richard Baxter's (December) Christmas/Cocos birding tour on 24 September. My friend, Damian Baxter (Richard’s son), posted that a spot had opened on the December tour. Messages were quickly exchanged and I was in. Then began the mental and emotional (and even physical) shit-storm as the unhealthy parts of my brain attempted to sabotage it. I was determined not to allow that to happen, and it did not. Although I am not saying it was easy.

I made check lists. I read Richard’s and Lisa’s (she is the tour facilitator) check lists. I highlighted things. I bought an Overboard brand dry-bag backpack (I ended up loving it. I just ordered their 2-litre waist pack as I wrote this). 

I worried. I fretted. I talked with others who had done the trip. I made more lists. Although I have lost weight (approximately 30 pounds since early July), I worried about my fitness level (it still needs work, believe me). I worried about my “older guy plumbing issues,” my migraines and other health issues. I worried about worrying (anxiety). I wanted this trip so badly that I all but worried myself sick that something could happen to prevent me from going. It did not. I saw my neurologist and had the Botox injections that help with my migraines. I was doing everything I could to be able to go. And now I have done it and I will attempt to write an interesting account of the trip.

The morning of Thursday 28 November I drove my Troopi to the Long Term Parking at Melbourne Airport then rode the shuttle to the terminal. I was checked-in, through security and at the gate over 2 hours early (as I do). The flight was on time and I flew the four and a half hours to Perth drifting off occasionally into a sleep-like state as I “listened” to a Patrick O’Brian book on tape in my ear-buds. I find the voice of the reader, Patrick Tull incredibly soothing and I love those books (the Aubrey/Maturin series by O’Brian). 

Always a happy sight... my dear old yellow rolling duffle. If you added up its miles, it has been at least around the world several times.

Arriving in Perth in the late arvo, I caught the shuttle to the motel. I had a decent night’s sleep and in the morning caught up with a few friends who were also on the tour who had also over-nighted at that motel. Now I was no longer travelling “alone,” one of my anxiety battles is about travelling alone and making a “mistake.” Yes, screwing-up is one of my biggest fears. I understand that and have my means of coping and I do cope. 

     

We were soon on our flight to Cocos. We arrived there in early afternoon and were met by Richard Baxter our leader for the next two weeks. Richard is ideal for what he does. His knowledge and information network for these islands is unparalleled. Make no mistake; there is no one who is more knowledgeable regarding the birds and birding the Cocos and Christmas Islands than Richard Baxter. He is a natural leader and I would say this even if I did not like him, and I did like him. But he is not there to be liked; he is there to find birds for birders to see. And he delivers. 

         

The man himself, one hell of a birder and leader.

We dropped our bags at our motel (more about that in part two) and went to the grocery. I dashed madly about the small, limitedly stocked store grabbing things (they do not sell peanut butter) and soon we were back at the motel and then off birding. I will write about that in the second part of course as well. 

My main point for this first instalment of what will be several blogs about my Christmas/Cocos birding tour is that I did overcome the massive anxiety and went on a truly “dream trip.” Sharing this battle that I fight to be able to do what I know I love is a part of my own healing. I dearly hope that by sharing my story I can help others with their issues with anxiety as well. We can do this!

I adored the Cocos Islands. I merged with them and they merged into me. They are inside me. I can feel them in my heart. I will write more about that and the birds in Part Two.

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it’s real. I love because I’m learning.

G'day Y’all. I’m Back.

Last Friday night I sang two songs on stage in part of an amateur community show here in the village. I am most comfortable on a stage. It is what I did thousands upon thousands of times over 50 years of performing. It was my profession. This was not a professional production and much was out of my control (sound, lights, staging). But it still went fine. I sang two of my songs that Lynn chose. She is more connected with this village than I am and I was grateful for her input. I performed because they asked me to. I do not fit in as a part of a non-professional conglomeration of amateurs, but I did it anyway.
         

I must do some shows.

I have let my creative self, especially performing, get packed into a box and stored away. My tendency to minimise what I do has taken its toll on who I am. Insecurity is the core belief of the best performers and it makes us easy to put down. Unless very financially successful, creative people are minimised by the world at large. “Is this what you do, or do you have a real job?” Is a question we are asked. I have heard those exact words, “real job” all my life. Creating is the most real job that there can be. If I work I can get paid. If I don’t, I don’t. That is as real as it gets. I’ve never had “vacation days,” or “sick days.” The very idea amazes me, but I’ve never done that, nor do I ever want to (I mean unless someone wanted to give me some of those somehow… I mean I wouldn’t turn down getting paid for being on holiday).

I create. I make shit up and if enough people like it, somehow I get paid something for it and I can live. For many people (most people?) it is a crazy existence. They can’t really imagine it. I can’t imagine otherwise. But as I said, for a while now, I have packed me away. I have dealt with anxiety and depression all of my life, but (and this is a very substantial “but”) the last several years most of my depression has been situational. I have put “me” in a box, sealed it and packed it away in storage. Well, I opened it last night and looked in and I liked, no, I loved, who I saw. I will work hard toward keeping him out and I do mean to work at it. It is a mind-set as well as pure work, i.e. rehearsing and practicing and sorting my equipment. It is all fun and games until I am actually going to do it, and I am going to do it.

Here is merely a first trial run by me at a poster design. The posters will be done by professionals (with my input of course).

     

These cannot just be words; they must become actions and ‘steps’ toward doing some shows, working on songs (and even setting up a place to draw and work on my art). I will continue to contribute to my Facebook groups and I will be birding and writing. Those things will be as important as ever, but “R. Bruce” the performer, the artist, the "star" is out of that damn box and will not to be packed away again. I just had to force myself to write that word “star,” literally force myself, but it is so important to these thoughts because that is what one becomes on a stage. Whether performing to ten people or a thousand. I know this. I have done it and I’m going to do it again. And it will be a Reunion Tour. The R. Bruce Reunion Tour with all the original member.

I need to find this guy again, a bit older and greyer, but he is still there...

This next one is from 2008 at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival...

 

     Yes I am. BUT I can, and will, do both...

   

Sending love as I progress. I will keep y'all posted.
I write therefore I am. I share therefore it's real. I love because I need love.

Creativity and Stuff

I have been spending a bit of time on our Facebook page b;rd I am very happy with how it has taken on its own life as it should. I feel like it works. It is above all things, a safe place to be open and genuine. The wonderful administrators, Kara and Paul will help me to remain vigilant toward that end. People who want to join the group will be vetted as best we can. There will be no judgment there. It is a page based in love and openly sharing and it will remain such.

My life is steeped in technology. As mentioned above, I have the new FB page (not to forget my Birder Ink page, which I also love) and all my different writing in general, often posting such to my blog, as well as on FB. In all these things I am dealing with, and too often battling with, technology. I am all the worst parts of ADHD as well as some of the best. I am extremely creative, but I have my limitations. I was working on some stuff with my songs this arvo and blurted out, “I am a creative genius, but that doesn’t pay well.” I was joking except I’m not joking. I am so proud of many of my songs, and my book, and etc and so on, but I have no Earthly idea about ‘money.’ None. When it runs out, I am just out. So well, whatever. I wrote a song about money that I never performed it live. I just never did like how it sounded solo. You can listen to the album version here: So Hard To Come By And So Easy To Spend

I am also hopeless at filling out complex forms. I try with all my might and still, I always mess them up. My buddy Alan is working on a spreadsheet of my bird list. It turns out I am at 723, not 722 birds in Australia, so that is very cool. Spreadsheets are not something I am comfortable with of course, but this may become a handy tool. I will certainly try to learn how to use it once he gets it sorted.

Speaking of technology, I have been culling and deleting photos off the laptop. I have never sorted a sane storage method for my photos and my iPhoto (yes, I still use that) was literally exploding from the amount of photos that I keep on hand (well over 340 GB). However, I have reduced that number. I’ve deleted over 2360 photos and I am only up to November 2014. I am continuing with that.

I appreciate the thought, but please do not offer suggestions regarding external hard-drives, the cloud, etc and so on. I know that there are far better ways to do this and in the future, I will begin doing one of those. But for now, I am just culling and deleting old photos. So I figured I would share a few of my older photos that I kept. I will post some more sometime soonish I reckon.

          

And I used to draw (I was an art major, before anxiety cause me to drop out of college before getting my degree). I will draw again and sooner than later. That is a promise.
         

I write therefore I am. I share therefore it’s real. I love y’all.

My Shell Collection

I have mentioned my uncle, who we all called, Unk, and my vacations with him and my Nana in Florida. They are without question, the best memories of my childhood into adolescence. They were two weeks. The first week was always spent on Sanibel (and Captiva) Islands. I began collecting shells there, as you do. I had a large collection in boxes and whatnot, but in my early adulthood, Unk built me a glass top coffee to hold at least a portion of the best ones. My larger shells remained out (a very few of which I still have). When we moved the first time to Australia in 2011, what became known as the Shell Table came with me. Because of a lack of space, it was stored away and when the accommodations changed, it remained stored for ages.

Here is a photo from Captiva Island, Florida in September of 2013 and I had lined up the shells I found in exactly the way that Unk and I would line up our shells when I was a kid in the late 1950's and 1960s. Florida represented heaven to me then. Literally, heaven.
 

Eventually it was set up with the shells in it (they had been stored in boxes) in 2015 at the Torquay family home and finally in 2017 it was reunited with its glass top. The top had travelled back to the USA, remained in its packing, and was shipped back the Oz on this my last, and my final, ever trans-hemispheral move. I will not move from Australia ever again.

Now the table is part of a new house setup in Geelong and Rebekah has painted it lovely ‘beachy’ colours and I am sure it is happy and thinks that it looks pretty. The shells are out and on a blanket waiting for sand to be put into the table. Side note: I slept under that same yellow blanket on my first trip into Gluepot in 2012. There were some chilly nights. Anyway, here are some photos of what is left of my shell collection.

 

And I do love shells. Oh you wonderful mollusks, how splendid to leave behind such incredible beauty once you have passed on. I can only hope that my writing and my songs can have at least slightly similar continuing existence after I am gone. That is why publishing is so important to me. I am quite serious when I say; I write therefore I am. I also mean it when I say, I share therefore it’s real. And I truly believe that the more love you give away the more you will have for yourself. Yeah, I am selfish like that.

Here are some pictures of my shells and my table and then it's new colours with the shells and sand.
 

       

Here is a photo from the far in the past. My cottage on the Outer Banks of North Carolina about 28 years ago. So much of that cool stuff is long gone now. The shell table is in the front left of the photo.

 

And lastly, below is an Australian Trumpet Shell, Syrinx aruanus. This shell was Lynn's and she gave it to me after we were married (29 years ago). I do still have this shell here at the house. Sadly, I no longer have the alligator with a pig in its mouth on the right. Oh, and they're resting on my great-grandfather's 100 year old oak roll-top desk that I have had most of my life, but that I have passed it on (it was deemed too big for this final move to Oz). I really thought I would always have that desk, but things, as cool as they are, are still just things... (the sculpture on the left by my niece, Natalie I also still have here. I do love that piece of art).
But, I will be travelling... and writing, and that is even better than cool 'stuff.'
   

I write therefore I am. I share therefore its real. I love y'all