Who Would You Call To? And How?
Greetings Reader!
Since Christmas and New Year’s fall on Thursdays this year, I’m sending out some nature cheer a bit early, and will take a break until January 8.
Below you’ll find some owl reflection and this week’s practice invitation, along with a link to nature book recommendations.
And, I’d love to hear directly from readers about how Ground Notes can support your nature explorations, and what you’d like to see in 2026! If you’ve already done the survey – thank you! If not, here’s the link: 5-10 minute survey to enter the raffle to win a complimentary set of nature-based pigment paint from Beam Paints! 🎨 Winner will be announced in the New Year, so you still have time!
Cheers,
Jennifer
Founder, Ordinary Nature
TABLE OF CONTENTS
- Weekly Reflection 🦉
- Weekly Practice 👁👂🎶
- Nature Book Gift Recommendations 📚🌿
- Little Tender Things 🥀
WEEKLY REFLECTION
Who Would You Call To? And How?
Jennifer Ruth Keller
Deep in dreamtime, “Coo Coo Coo” reverberates into my ears and slumber. What’s up with the doves? I ask myself in half-dream, half-wakefulness.
Wait, that’s not a dove, I realize as I slip out of sleep, let my ears join the morning, alert to what’s outside. That’s an owl!!!!
I head downstairs, grab my parka (ooh–I’ve always wanted to use that word and I do think it actually best describes my huge wheat- yellow winter jacket). I ignore the cats, the litter boxes, even the making of coffee.
Perched in one of the pines is a great horned owl, facing me, whose calls can veer towards a dove sound if you’re not quite listening. But once you’re alert, hearing, the sound becomes unmistakable.
In the summer we had barn owls visiting the yard for a couple months. But great horned owls haven’t been around for awhile. Our rat population has diminished, but not vanished, and maybe the owl has realized our yard still holds the bounty.
As I look up the owl takes flight, crosses the yard to the large maple, closer to the house. The owl lands on a branch on the left side of the tree. I’m on the concrete porch right behind the house, with a direct line of sight onto the bird. I hope my presence doesn’t make it scare off.
Before I can worry too much, the owl begins calling out. Calling, and repeating. Calling, and repeating. The cadence cuts through the dawn like a trumpet.
After a minute or two, a second owl flies into the tree from the other side, lands on a branch across from the first owl. I try to keep my sound of delight from being too exclamatory, so as not to disturb their rendezvous.
Now THAT’S the way to start the winter solstice I say to myself, inwardly, beaming with expansion in my chest, a lift in my heart, even a slight swoon to my stance in the knowledge that what I’ve been allowed to witness is–to use fancy language about it–super cool.
The best kind of cool. The cool to keep me afloat through a holiday season that’s juxtaposed with a slew of bad things being visited upon normal people. An emblem of creaturely call and response. Of sending my voice into the air, and awaiting who might join me in an ordinarily sacred tree.
Who might you call out to this season and in the new year? And what might your call–your song–sound like?
WEEKLY PRACTICE (and beyond!)
Go outside. Somewhere you can let down your guard, your inhibitions around making “odd” or “weird” sounds.
Explore what your version of a “creature calling to another creature” sounds like. (Yes, like actually do this, and make sound!)
Play with it. When “your” call comes out of your body into the air, you’ll know it. It will feel right in some way, even if it feels new or somewhat awkward, or unpracticed. Try it out a few times. Not to perfect it. Just to experience it.
You’ve got your “creature call” for 2026! Let it loose in different times of day, different seasons, with variations of tone and volume and vibe.
And then, await. See who will arrive into your life from the call.
Nature-Related Book Recs!
Need a holiday gift or start-the-year-nature-rich read? Check out my book of recommended nature reads at Bookshop.org.
Nature Book Reading Recs!
NOT-SO-LITTLE TENDER THINGS
Owl, my fierce friend.
You seem to favor that pine, of the five options.
And you favor that area of the tree too.
Do you remember us, when you return?
Do you gaze upon us down below, knowing?
I like to think you do, even for just a moment.
Because shared remembering makes us family.
