Natural history – Enchanted Habitat

34.7º N 92.2º W. Little Rock, in Central Arkansas, in the United States

7/5/17 – 7/9/17

The Artists of Enchanted Habitat

Many accomplished artists live in Enchanted Habitat. We could have the highest concentration of any comparably-sized area in the United States, maybe the world. That includes comparison with places famous for being artists’ meccas.

I’ve heard this same observation from well-traveled art world notables. They come here and are surprised at the number and variety of artists.

Speaking for the moment only of art that can be hung on a wall: wherever you go here, if there is public display space you are likely to be able to look at skilled works by local watercolorists, pastel painters, collagers, oil painters, sketchers, and drawers. Not only do public and for-profit galleries host them but also, often, church halls, libraries, restaurants, public buildings, doctors’ offices, hospitals, and on.

And then there are the three-dimensional works: local artists’ 21st Century statuary and sculpted objects grace many of our public and private grounds, and there are wonders, here, of pottery and ceramics.

I am necessarily leaving out some of the other categories of art and artists, but that is not to diminish them.

Why do we have so many artists here?

My considered answer is, Because so many of our artists are also big-hearted leaders who genuinely care about art, and about other artists.

That answer skips over a lot of ifs, ands, and buts. I am an artist and have been immersed in various aspects of the local art scene for more than ten years. I feel qualified to speak.

Most of the artists here did not get their art educations in universities. They largely acquired their skills on their own through reading, long practice hours, community classes, workshops and demonstrations by local and visiting masters, art groups, plein air groups, peer learning, etc. These educational opportunities don’t just happen. People make them happen: unpaid volunteers who are themselves artists.

Every year in Enchanted Habitat there occur national and regional art shows judged by renowned jurors, with thousands of dollars in prize money. These opportunities for artists to show their work competitively to the public are a gift from the volunteer artist leaders who make it happen.

All the different artist-fostering initiatives cost money, and volunteer artists conduct the fundraising. Also they do the banking, account for the money, submit the IRS reports, and write the thank-you letters to the donors. And they secure the venues, bring the snacks, and . . . the task list is long and varied.

Time, to an artist, is the precious commodity. Professional or amateur, there is never enough time to do one’s art. Yet many of our artists have been giving away substantial parts of their time doing this volunteer work, unsung, for years, in the background, purely for their love of art and their dedication to other artists. And somehow when a new artist-leader is needed there is always another to step up to the plate.

These are not fictitious people. I know and admire at least a dozen of them, and there are dozens more. If any are reading: You know who you are, and thank you.

Ah, and that brings us to the final bottom line question. Why do we have so many artist-leaders here?

I don’t know, unless it’s because this is Enchanted Habitat.

From the Green Cathedral

For three consecutive mornings a delightful rainstorm has come before daylight. It is a major pleasure to be in the bed with my warm doggie snuggled against my back, listening to the rain in the dark. Yes, three mornings in a row!

So. Lots of moisture in the back yard, the Green Cathedral. Yesterday morning Beloved Doggie and I waited until the rain stopped and then stepped outside. Here is the little surprise jewel who said hello to me from its new place between the wet flagstones. It was less than an inch wide. (The green leaves that look like a pony’s foot are called, guess what, ponysfoots, officially named dichondra.) By nightfall some small critter had taken two bites out of the pretty mushroom and kicked it off its stalk, maybe in a twit. I hope the biter didn’t get sick. I think the mushroom is Russula emetica, one of the digestively disagreeable kind, though not deadly.

Also three new annuals bloomed this week, and something ate one of them too. That flower was a double daylily which I’ve not seen before in the Green Cathedral. Its predecessors in past years have been single lilies, and I have no way to account for this one unless it is a new volunteer plant. Here it is in full bloom three mornings ago, and . . .

. . . here is isn’t, the next day.

Someone went to bed in their little nest that night saying I Can’t Believe I Ate The Whole Thing!

The naked ladies are here! (Don’t get too excited.)

And so are the lantana, those clever plants!

Guest Artist

This lovely abstract landscape card is part of my collection. It is the work of Patricia Ryan Madson of El Granada, CA, presented with her permission. She made it for me and mailed it to me. What could be nicer than opening an envelope and finding this? Thank you Patricia.

Paper card approximately 4″ X 6″ by Patricia Ryan Madson

34.7º N 92.2º W. Little Rock, in Central Arkansas, in the United States

6/25/17 – 7/4/17

The Fourche Creek Watershed

I’ve lived my life in the midst of a natural wonder and never knew it ’til now.

Here is a bird’s-eye view of my new discovery, The Fourche Creek Watershed. (Fourche is pronounced fush, rhyming with bush.) Thanks to Audubon Arkansas for this map and the factual information about it. The annotations are mine. Click on it to enlarge it.

This map shows Fourche Creek and its tributaries, starting in Saline County, flowing east through Little Rock, and emptying into the Arkansas River.

This watershed covers 108,800 acres! About 73% of the surface area of Little Rock drains into it! During a typical storm it can store up to one billion gallons of water!

The city of Little Rock cites the economic value and savings from natural purification in the Fourche bottomlands to be in the millions of dollars. Wikipedia

The creek, watershed, and wetland areas provide water purification, efficient storage of floodwaters, urban noise reduction, air and water pollution control, and wildlife habitat within the city.

Fourche Creek itself is home to over 50 species of fish (one fourth of all Arkansas fish species). Also living there are three hundred year old bald cypress trees, other riparian trees, and a diverse population of permanent and migratory birds.

The tributaries include six third-order streams and nine primary tributaries. If you don’t already know about stream classifications and are interested you can look here. I’ve been personally acquainted with some of these tributaries off and on all my life, and was surprised to learn about them: that they are tributaries, and how far they travel, and that they have been officially observed and classified.

I’ve heard the name Fourche Creek since I can remember, but it was a vague reference to a creek somewhere around here that nobody I knew was concerned with. If ever as a child I saw a sign designating Fourche Creek, I don’t know it. The term watershed I first heard at age maybe twenty, thirty. My elders had no call to use that word when I was a child, and the subject wasn’t in the curriculum in my early schooldays, nor did it appear in my higher education.

It was Audubon Arkansas that led me to the meaning–and the wonderment–of this watershed (and thus all watersheds). And here in my old age I became curious about exactly where within my native land Fourche Creek is, and what it is.

Within Little Rock’s city limits you can take a wildlife hike or float down Fourche Creek anytime you feel like getting away for half a day. How ’bout that for an Enchanted afternoon?

Unfortunately, not all of Fourche Creek is this pristine-looking. Thoughtless and/or ignorant citizens of Enchanted Habitat have dumped and littered Fourche Creek without mercy throughout the history of the city. Audubon Arkansas publicizes this pollution, and has lead a volunteer cleanup campaign for the last ten years. The volunteers have removed tons of dumped tires, bottles, and general trash, and will keep going. Unsung heroes.

If you want to know about the different kinds of volunteer opportunities sponsored by Audubon Arkansas, you can start here.

Also Audubon Arkansas wants us all to know that anything that flows down a storm drain goes untreated into the nearest waterway. Their efforts toward discouraging dumping in storm drains includes a drain sticker program and an artists’ competitive drain-painting campaign to attract attention to the problem: Drain Smart.

I came back from my fact-finding forays about the Fourche Creek Watershed with a sense of thankfulness and a beginner’s appreciation for this great resource hidden in plain sight.

I hope our national elected officers will reverse the present trend of devaluing the environment and will instead increase funding to help our local people rescue and preserve it. What example of worth could be plainer than the Fourche Creek Watershed?

What We Do for Love (of Carolina wrens)

In a recent post I related my friend’s contest with a Carolina wren who was determined to homestead in her house or at least near a door. We left the tale at the stage called “it’s a draw”, with the bird nesting in a hanging flower basket on the covered back porch.

Chapter Two begins with my friend’s realization that new babies are in that flowered nest, and that she herself must give up her own lovely mini-vacations on the porch, on the chaise, in the shade, drinking tea. I interviewed her about this experience.

She said, “The parents fuss and scold, but I could tolerate that. It’s that they stop feeding the babies while I’m there. I can’t enjoy my time out there because I keep knowing the babies are hungry. They peep regularly.”

She went on to say, though, that she finds giving up her comforts to be a fair trade-off. I asked what she is getting in return for her temporary loss. She said, “Every time I go in and out my back door I get a little gift. The babies (there are either two or three) don’t know to shut up when I’m out there. I hear their little voices get stronger and louder every day. I can go on down to the yard and sit (in the hot sun) and watch the crafty parents feed the babies.

“They approach one at a time. They rarely fly directly to the nest. They light under the porch. Then hop to the railing on the steps. Then the top rail. They take a good look around and then hop up to the nest in the hanging pot. The pot swings, the luckiest baby gets a bug, things are quiet for a few seconds, then the parent perches at the edge of the pot and takes another look around before hopping off and swooping away. During this process, the second parent has usually taken up a waiting position, then takes its turn when the other is finished.

“Why is this so magical? It’s a process that is going on everywhere and is not unusual. But these little birds—I’m getting to know them so well. They are so keen and clever.

“We are living in the same space. I know I probably irritate them, but they get a tradeoff, too. Their comparative tolerance of humans and our ways means that they can get some protection in the little bubble around my house where other wild things are reluctant to come.”

Guest Artist

Applause to Patricia Ryan Madson, my friend from the Etegami Fun Club, for this beautiful melon card and message. Posted with her permission.

Image credits as noted

Category: Natural history

The Center of the Universe

Watersheds and Wrens