Barred Owl

Today, 4:00am, I happened to be walking my neighbor's paper to her front porch, accompanied by Beauregard. He quietly approached a shadowy unknown object - and I heard the unmistakable CLACK of an owl beak. (If you have ever heard a mature owl do that, you know the sound. If you haven't, just know that it is menacingly loud, the equivalent of a ferocious growl from a canine. No creature wants to get near that beak after hearing it.)

I turned on my hand light, which I carry only "in case", preferring natural light. It was a mature Barred Owl with a sagging wing. Hurt and afraid, but not about to show it or give up.

I went home to think through what to do and get my equipment:

• Large cardboard box - cut two air vents in it
• Thick towel
• Welding gloves (the manly substitute for oven mitts at the grill)

Checked the St Francis web site, woke up Kathy and asked her to drive the car over to the neighbor's, and went back to get the owl. He had moved up to the front porch. With Kathy holding my light, I put the towel gently over him, amid ferocious clacking, and managed to get him in the box and thence into the car.

Called Northwood Animal Hospital [24/7 emergency animal care], which is the after-hours intake for St-Francis, to alert I was bring in an injured barred owl. They are only about two miles from us, yet by the time I got there the Leon Co Deputy who does the transport to St Francis was already there waiting for me. She was expert. Took "Barry" out of the box (with gloves of course) by the talons, got him calmed down, and looked over the injured wing. Several broken bones, some protruding. So sad. I had been thinking car, but she thought more likely a collision with a window. They promised to let me know - possibilities range from setting to amputation to, unfortunately, euthanasia.

This is undoubtedly one of the mated pair that lives in our immediate neighborhood and sings duets in the evening. I requested that if this one can be fully rehab'd that we release it back here. 

(Back home reading the paper at 7:00am.)

(See previous post "Owal Rescue", July 2012.)

Tallahassee Civic Chorale performs Imant Raminsh' Missa Brevis

The Chorale - a modest group, in size and resources. 49 singers, a conductor, a smallish wind ensemble of local musicians, piano, pipe organ. Eight donors listed in the program.

The Artistic Director - talented and dedicated - working three music positions in small colleges scattered over two states and hundreds of miles.

The composer - escaped from Latvia to Canada as a boy in 1948. Canadian citizenship and music education. Wrote the Missa for an Indianapolis children's choir, and re-voiced it for mixed voices at the turn of the century.

The audience - families with children, grandparents, flittering teenagers temporarily escaped from the nest, oldsters out on the town. A photographer.

The venue - a church.

How often is this scene replicated across America? Too many to count. And too meaningful not to. What confluence of fates brings us all to this event? Is it a higher power?

Last night's Tallahassee Civic Chorale concert was beautiful. Poignant. Uplifting. I was struck, by the scene, by the dedication, and above all by the music. Imant Raminsh's Missa brevis is a stunningly beautiful piece of music and the performance by the Chorale could not have been better. I was overwhelmed with emotion.

Thanksgiving 2013

Thanksgiving 2013

Up at 5:30, coffee brews just fine - why wouldn't it? Power company employees ensure that for us. Newspaper already delivered, read by 6:30. Check out weather on TV. Facebook's up & running, thanks to behind-the-screen tech folks. Take a look at my saved shopping cart om Adorama - they've offered a discount for pulling the trigger on LightRoom, I take them up on it. Went for a workout at YouFit, listening to NPR while driving, passed a firestation - on duty as usual.

Then we drive to Honey Lake - plenty of fuel stops open along the way - deputies, FHP on the road. Honey Lake Plantation - dogs walk, we eat, dogs walk again. Lovely place, obvious sincere enthusiasm of service folks. And in a few minutes - FOOTBALL ON TV. All made possible, sometimes we forget, by those men and women of our forces around the world who keep our country safe for democracy and freedom.

To all of you Americans out there - armed forces, newswomen, paper delivery guys, electrical workers, TV station employees, NPR staff, IT workforce, folks running the gym, firefighters, emergency rescue, cops, deputies, patrolmen, truck stop employees, restaurant staff, football refs, stadium workers, cheerleaders, TV cameramen, weather channel gurus, and many many more:

THANK YOU for helping make this the greatest country on the planet. My hat is off. My heart is warm.

Sarah Rhodes Lacher

Sarah Rhodes Lacher of Athens, Georgia, died after a brief illness on July 6, 2013.                            

Mrs. Lacher was born on March 8, 1915, in Lake City, Florida, the daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Jesse Ansley Griffin.  After Dr. Griffin’s death in 1921, she and her mother moved to Athens where she attended the Lucy Cobb Institute.  She attended the University of Hawaii for a year and the University of Georgia where she was the first piano student to graduate with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Music under the direction of Hugh Hodgson, her long time teacher and mentor.  After graduation, she attended the University of Freiburg in Germany for a year doing post-graduate work, and returned to the University of Georgia to complete her MFA in music.

Mrs. Lacher was preceded in death by her husband, Hermann Lacher from Hofgeismar, Germany, who was an International Exchange Student at the University of Georgia; her mother, Ellen Griffin Rhodes McWhorter; her father, Jesse Ansley Griffin; her adoptive father, Alexander Rhodes; and her step-father Robert Ligon McWhorter.  She is survived by her children, Christopher Lacher (Kathy) of Tallahassee, FL; Ellen Lacher Creagh (Gerard) of Athens, GA; Lisa Lacher Bryan (Stephen) of Walpole, NH and New York, NY; Michael Lacher of Washington, D.C.; grandchildren, Walter Lacher of Denver, CO; Adam Lacher of Denver, CO; Laurel Lacher Milczarek (Michael) of Tucson, AZ; Ellen Bryan of New York, NY; great-grandchildren Austin Lacher of Crawfordville, FL; and Daphne and Mikaela Milczarek of Tucson, AZ.

Mrs. Lacher was a member of Emmanuel Episcopal Church where she directed the Junior Choir for many years and was a founding member of the Emmanuel Episcopal Thrift Shop.  She was also a founding member of the Rabun Gap Nacoochee Guild, a member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, and the German Club of Athens.  She was well known for her sewing and smocking work and took great pleasure in creating special things for her friends.  She taught piano and was the pianist for the Lucy Lampkin School of Ballet. She worked constantly “behind the scenes” to encourage and promote musical talent and awareness in the community.  A great animal lover, she adopted and raised many pets over the years.  In addition to her personal friends and colleagues, Mrs. Lacher is remembered fondly as a gracious and entertaining hostess by friends of her children, as on many occasions she opened her heart and home to them.  She and her husband enjoyed sponsoring University of Georgia International Exchange Students and entertaining the Navy Supply Corp School International Officers, doing many things to make their experience in this country a memorable one.

A memorial service will be held at a later date.

In lieu of flowers, remembrances may be made to the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals,  424 E. 92nd St., New York, NY 10128-6804.

On line condolences may be made at www.bernsteinfuneralhome.com

Crossings

Rush hour at the intersection of Capital Circle and Centerville Road in Tallahassee, I'm sitting in G2 in the leftmost Northbound lane of Capital Circle. A family of five - Mom, Dad, 3 little ones - is waiting at the NE corner watching the traffic and waiting for a lull. They look both ways and enter the crosswalk toward the SE corner (crossing Centerville): Parent, children, another parent bringing up the rear. They get to the safety islet, stop and look again, then proceed to cross the right-turn lane from Cap Circle to Centerville eastbound, again staying exactly in the crosswalk. They get across safely, walking steadily and cautiously, watching for danger, finally get to  green grass and head away. Perfectly disciplined, parents and children.

They are Canadian Geese.

Then a little closer to home, a Cooter (turtle) is waiting at the crosswalk heading west across Thomasville Road at Metropolitan. What is she thinking? Even waiting for the "walk" signal, there's not 1 chance in 10 she'll get across all six lanes at this time of day. I think she crossed Thomasville the other way from the bog to lay eggs, early early in the AM, and was headed back home.

I park the truck on the concrete median in Metropolitan, get the turtle (about 7 x 10 inches all pulled in), put her in the back of the truck, and just now released her near Lake Jackson. (Turtles don't mate for life, do they?)

Mo2W Y1 Report

 

Feb 1 2013 
Meals on 2 Wheels has First Birthday



By the Numbers


1: number of years Meals on 2 Wheels has been alive
2: number of wheels on a bicycle
617: number of meals delivered by bicycle
768: miles NOT used by automobiles to deliver meals on wheels (est)
51: gallons of fuel saved (@15 mpg)

This may not seem like much. But add to these numbers the intangibles of good exercise and feelings of accomplishment for the riders, plus good will and appreciation in the client community, and you have a really wonderful experience all around, with no negatives that any of us can think of.

There really isn't much to add now. We have written about how satisfying it is to ride with a purpose above necessity or recreation. And we have proved to be a sustainable asset to the community.

Many thanks to the Meals on 2 Wheels Riders:

Alvin Farrar
Karen Loewen
Marv Rubenstein
Roger Holdener
Mike Redig
Dave Stotts

Keep on Truckin'.

Chris Lacher

Owal Rescue

Friday July 13, 2012, was both lucky and unlucky for a young Great Horned Owl. The very bad luck was being hit by a car sometime in the night. Better luck was sitting in the road about 9:30am when a group of cyclists from Tallahassee came along.

The immobile, but erect, clump of feathers was in the middle of the oncoming (westbound) lane of the Climax-Whigham road (aka GA Bike Route 10). Riding about 4th wheel in a steady paceline heading east, I saw and immediately recognized him as an owl. One of my buddies, Ron Ray, followed me as I made a careful exit from the paceline and U-turned back to the bird. He (the bird, not Ron) looked awful: Wet and rumpled feathers, covered with sandy muddy road spray, and a dazed stare. Ron exclaimed at how old the bird looked. He really was pathetic, looking like a wet chicken in mid-molt.

About the same time a pickup came along. I'm sorry I don't have the drivers name, he did good. I asked if he could take the owl to a vet, and he agreed. I asked if he had a towel in the truck - he only had his T shirt to offer. That, I knew, would not be enough. I shed my long-sleeve day-glow yellow polyester jersey. I got the owl to look at the big patch of color and dropped it over him, wrapping him up in it. Then we tied the T shirt around as a kind of makeshift cradle. The driver then drove the bird away, holding the cradle with one hand. The talons grasping the cloth were, ahem, impressive. Yikes. You'd lose a hand if that got on your wrist.

Ron and I road into Whigham, where we determined that the vet destination was all the way down US 84 to Cairo. So we road on back to the start of our ride and our vehicles in Calvary. The rest of our erstwhile paceline was there loading up to go back to real life. I drove back north to Cairo and the vet - to check on the bird and, if convenient, retrieve my jersey. (Note: Thank the stars I was wearing bib shorts so that riding without the jersey didn't gross people out too much. I did pick up some sun in places unused to it.) I got to the vet in Cairo. The folks there were very nice. They didn't have a clue about wildlife, though. I asked if they had my jersey, and found that the bird was still wrapped up in it. They extracted both shirts, and I asked them to hold the T for the pickup guy. They told me that the "wildlife rescue" lady was already on the way to get the owl, so I left feeling that I had helped him as much as I could.

Sidebar. Animals are hurt by our technology: roads, vehicles, powerlines, towers, fences, dams, boats. Vehicles, in particular, are far and away the top predator in North America. 


That night I called the wildlife rescue lady, one Lorraine Conklin. She told me the owl had never been delivered ... huh? A big misunderstanding, apparently the Cairo vet was expected to take the bird to a wildlife savvy vet in Thomsaville, but they had understood the opposite. Bad news for the owl, who was destined to spend the night without treatment or water in the cage in Cairo. I could hardly sleep.

I was at the Cairo vet when they opened this morning. I brought my welding gloves (BBQ cook's equipment), a heavy towel, and a box. I tried to sound officious stating I was there to pick up the owl. They were all relieved, and my equipment made me look like I knew what I was doing, so they brought me back to the cage. On the door was a paper sign stating: "Owal". (Well, hey, it IS a 2-syllable word in south GA, right?) Someone had supplied a plastic file crate for him, and he was perched on top of it, a good sign. His feathers were dry and fluffed. He looked every inch the "top gun" that he should be. I donned the welding/BBQ gloves, reached in "as if", grasped him and got him into the crate and closed the bifold lid. Away we went to Thomasville.

The rest of the day went great. The Thomasville vet:

Clanton-Malphus-Hodges Veterinary Hospital
2134 East Pinetree Blvd
Thomasville, GA 31792
229-226-1914

had been expecting the owl since yesterday, and they immediately took charge. I heard again from Ms Conklin, who had by then picked him up and brought him to her Nepenthic Society refuge for sick and injured wildlife in Thomasville. She confirmed that the owl was an immature (not fully grown, but old enough to be on his own) male Great Horned Owl. He seems to have had a concussion, and his eyes are not yet working well enough to hunt, but there were no broken wings or legs. Right now his prognosis is good for re-release in several days.

The Nepanthic Society
167 Home Park Farm Rd
Thomasville, GA 31757
229-228-9298


Ms Conklin is French. Today is July 14. I wished her happy Bastille Day.

PS The vet in Cairo was really nice. I know I made a little fun at their expense, but they had good in their hearts, and I feel sure they are a wonderful and caring place to take Fido and Kitty. Just not the coyotes, bobcats, and owals.