When we were shopping for our first home nearly twenty years ago, one of the things that attracted us to our neighborhood was the easy access to a network of trails that criss cross Santa Rosa and Paulin Creeks. This trail system is truly an oasis and a hidden gem in our part of town. The banks are lined primarily with oaks, willows and redwoods. Beginning in mid-summer, a seemingly endless supply of plump, juicy blackberries are there for the taking. The water is clean and supports a surprising diversity of wildlife. River otters call this place home (one morning last year I observed a family of five cavorting in an eddy just across from where I was standing!) Great Blue Herons, Snowy and Great Egrets, Black Crowned Night Herons and Belted Kingfishers are among the resident aquatic predators. I regularly observe the same egret standing in the water just below a spot where the creek narrows to around two feet, waiting to spear a meal. Crawfish, small steelhead and western pond turtles abound. On any given day, the air is filled with the songs of chickadees, towhees, juncos and warblers. If you’re even halfway observant, it’s hard to walk these trails and not encounter at least one of the aforementioned creatures. However, there’s one little mystery of the natural world that you just may stroll right on by, but I never miss it.

When my family and I first started exploring these trails we began to notice a steady stream of honeybees coming and going from a particular oak tree. This oak is  a gnarled old grandmother. Her weathered and moss covered trunk is nearly five feet in circumference and bends at an odd angle towards the creek. Her thin arms give way to spindly fingers which reach upwards to join the canopy. There’s an opening in the tree about a foot up from the base, it’s an almost perfectly shaped oval, like the one you see in Winnie The Pooh’s tree. I half expect Winnie himself to come rambling by to collect some “huny.” There’s activity at this opening twelve months of the year. Even in the dead of winter on a cold, rainy day, I can still spot one or two bees. Right now the action is fast and furious with hundreds of bees zipping in and out of the opening like so many mini jet fighters. Step close enough and you’ll hear a steady, high pitched hum. Judging by the number of bees, the size of this hive inside grandmother oak must be enormous. How long the hive has been here is anyone’s guess. What I wouldn’t give to reach up in there and grab a handful of sweet, golden honey!

I wonder how many people walk or bike right past this tree every day without noticing what’s going on in and around it? This feels like my little secret but sometimes I think it would be fun to sit beside the tree and point out to the unaware the miracle that’s occurring right before their eyes

Mother Nature does not reveal her secrets easily. It takes patience, hours of quiet observation and a little luck to find what’s hidden, often in plain sight. I’ve discovered some wonderful and unexpected things by sitting, watching and listening with a peaceful mind and an open heart.

A couple of years ago while sitting on our backyard deck one early spring morning, I noticed a hummingbird fly from an open perch on our plum tree into the thick foliage of our apple tree. Day after day I observed this same bird zipping back and forth between the two trees. Curiosity finally got the best of me so I went to have a look inside the apple tree. What I discovered was a tiny nest made from lichen, moss, lint and other bits of fluff. Inside the nest were two perfectly white eggs, each the size of a pinto bean. This nest would easily fit within a circle that I make with my thumb and forefinger. So perfectly camouflaged was this nest that it would have been virtually impossible to find it had I not first observed the hummingbird’s activity around it. 

I feel blessed just to be aware of these hidden secrets of nature. Being in the right place at the right time has allowed me to glimpse through the window into a mysterious and mostly hidden world. Of course there are more bee trees and hummingbird nests out there than I’ll ever have the time to discover. But nevertheless, I plan to keep on looking.