Wanting What You've Got

An hour north on I-77 I drove – for new scenery.

Lake Norman in Catawba County, North Carolina is the largest man-made lake in the Carolinas. It’s 34 miles long and 8 miles across at its widest point. Its surface area of 32,500 acres has 520 miles of shoreline, created from dams of the hydroelectric powered Catawba River. In the early 1960’s it took Duke Power two years to fill Lake Norman, covering homes, farms, and entire towns. I find that fascinating. Whenever I drive across the lake on the interstate, my mind wanders off to the history of the beautiful lake and I wonder what remains at the bottom… It’s the primary water source for the city of Charlotte and surrounding counties and seeing the effects of the drought causes more than mild concerns. As I write this, we are having real, soaking rain. We’ve had a dark, drenching, soaking week and I’m smiling about it!

At Lake Norman State Park, I was dreaming of waterfowl and birds. Other than seeing a flock of American Robins and many Juncos, it was waterfowl-less and quiet.

The trail I was planning to walk… Hmmm. I was beginning to feel way too uninvited. The weather turned on me also - to cold, wet, and dark.

I had my favorite Christmas gift with me - Eagle Optics Ranger binoculars (awesome!). They’ve opened up a delicious, clear, and sharp focus on things I would otherwise miss.

As soon as I was back on the interstate the sun broke through the clouds. Julie’s recent post contains a great message that directly relates to how I was feeling on my way home. In Sheryl Crow’s “Soak Up the Sun”, these two lines having a lot of meaning.

It’s not having what you want,
It’s wanting what you’ve got.

Back at home, all I wanted is what I already had. Julie calls it a little secret to happiness. Yep.

Back at my favorite strip mall pond and spending a little time with my backyard birds.

Carolina Wrens are trying to shack up in my garage.

Pishing is productive after a little practice.

The chickadees, goldies and house finches appear within a minute.

If you frighten a flock of hiding Mourning Doves, you have instant failure.

Cardinals won’t show. I wouldn’t call them skittish. Very reserved.

This one is neither skittish nor reserved. It’s just a loud pain in the a-- that gets on my last nerve, enough to make me momentarily dream of throwing my camera against the fence. And I like wanting that little bird. Imagine that.