Web of Life

Saturday, March 21st, another day of social distancing and volunteer isolation is ending as COVID-19 unfolds. The sun is casting a yellow hue on the buildings across the street as the sun sets. Somebody just picked up a take out order from the partially closed Indian restaurant. Take out only. Traffic on the once busy Monroe Street is reduced to a trickle.

COVID-19 reveals our vulnerability while underscoring how we are all interconnected regardless of race, gender, class, and nation.  In fact, as Chief Seattle (1786 – June 7, 1866), a prominent Suquamish and Duwamish chief, points out all things are connected.  We are enmeshed into a web of life.

"This we know: All things are connected

like the blood that unites us.

We did not weave the web of life,

We are merely a strand in it.

Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves." 


Prospect Gardens are just one strand in the web of life. This little strand is connected to others along the Southwest Path.  Perry, a neighbor, likes to refer to this interconnected web as "shared habitat."  Perry lives along the Path, about a ten minute walk west of Prospect Gardens. This poster is on a tree next to the Path and in the backyard of Perry's house. Perry made and tacked it to the tree when he and others waged a losing campaign against lights along the Path during the Fall of 2012.

"Shared habitat" captures the spirit of Chief Seattle. The poster shows a Great Horned Owl, which I once saw along the Path.  Perry reports that because of the installed lights the Great Horned has moved further into neighborhoods bordering the Path. Perry says that he still hears the Great Horned Owls but they no longer nest along the Path.

 Perry, during the winter of 2012, captured how Great Horned Owls stash prey and use food to attract mates. They mate for life, but are solitary except for mating season. This frozen mouse is about 5 feet above the ground.

Sharp-shinned hawks also share habitat along the SW Path. Here's one looking like a Buddha. A few years ago as I was walking home from work, one swooped passed me and caught a small bird in mid-flight. Follow this link for
 a little drama Perry caught between a Sharp-shinned Hawk and a squirrel . A window will open and afterwards close the tab to return.

This Red Tail, common in North America, is another strand in the web of life. They soar above open fields, slowly turning circles on their broad, rounded wings. You’ll see them atop telephone poles eyes fixed on the ground to catch the movements of a vole or a rabbit. Last summer a young Red Tail flew overhead as I was on the Path. After landing in the tree, the youth kept calling its parent with its high pitched screech.

Thanks Perry for these two pictures and the video clip. You are a keen observer.

Joining the Red Tail Hawk in the web of life along the Southwest Path are the Turkey Vultures. Janice, a friend, photographed this majestic soaring bird. They return each year and roost in the pines just off the path near the Path entrance into the Nakoma neighborhood. The Vultures are just passing through. Maybe they are on their way to Devil's Lake near Baraboo, where they will spend the summer months gracefully soaring in the air currents over the lake and the bluffs..

Last week I witnessed seven vultures as they soared over the pines. You too, can share the joy by: going to Janice's video.  A window will open and then close the tab to return.

Another bird in our shared habitat is the Sand Hill Crane.
Here's one I encountered last summer near Lake Wingra. These solitary birds seem to be adjusting to human beings. They nest in the nearby UW Arboretum. Last week, during my walk, at least six flew overhead calling to each other, announcing their return and telling me that spring is here. They make a distinctive croaking sound.

Cardinals, Blue Jays, Goldfinches, Robins and other birds live near or visit the Path.  During April, Spring Warblers linger in thickets along a stream just off the Path. Here's the tiny Ruby-Crowned Kinglet. They are fast-moving birds. If you’re watching a flock of Warblers, you might see one dart into view and keep moving through the foliage, almost too fast for you to keep up.

As you walk or bike along the Path, and if attentive, you will hear the tap-taping of wood peckers such as this Downy Wood Pecker. Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers and Northern Flickers may also be heard. Another great picture, Perry.



Animals share the habitat bordering the Path and we are connected to them in the web of life. Here's a deer and a data point for a study led  by Professor David Drake from the Department of Forest and Wildlife Ecology. He and Sheryl Hursh, a PhD candidate, are studying mammal diversity and mammal size (large and small). Their study is part of the Urban Wildlife Information Network. Twenty-three USA cities and one in Canada participate in the study. I met both, on different occasions, during my walks on the Path.They expect to offer suggestions about managing wildlife in a mid-sized city and how urban planning decisions may affect wildlife patterns.

Coyotes also inhabit the Path corridor.  Follow this link to see one in Perry's backyard   Fox, possums and of course, squirrels and chipmunks reside in the Path corridor.

Prospect Gardens and other prairies along the Path are sanctuaries for small animals and insects and notably Monarch Butterflies. The Dudgeon Monroe Prairie at the intersection of the Path and Odana is a stop for hundreds of butterflies as they migrate and make their way to California and Mexico.  Here's one. Some also check out Prospect Gardens.

Bees, under threat from pesticides and disease, find solace in the Prairies. This one is harvesting nectar from Prospect Garden's Monarada, commonly know as Bee Balm. The decreasing bee population underscores Chief Settle's message and in particular "Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves."  Harm to these important pollinators has serious ramifications on our food supply. 

The decrease in bees is so troublesome that robotic bees are being tested in almond orchards near Esparto, in the Capay Valley region of central California. Our faith in technology is boundless. For more information see this NPR article.

I end this entry about a few sentient beings who share our web of life with a Mary Oliver poem. Chief Seattle would agree with her message.

Sleeping in the Forest

I thought the earth remembered me,

she took me back so tenderly,

arranging her dark skirts, her pockets

full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,

nothing between me and the white fire of the stars

but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths

among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms

breathing around me, the insects,

and the birds who do their work in the darkness.

All night I rose and fell, as if in water,

grappling with a luminous doom. By morning

I had vanished at least a dozen times

into something better.

from Sleeping In The Forest by Mary Oliver

© Mary Oliver