Subject: [Tweeters] Be a Stump
Date: Jun 7 10:43:34 2012
From: jeff gibson - gibsondesign at msn.com



Tired of driving all over working on that list ? Cranky and frustrated by queues at over popular and overcrowded sites ? Burnt out from hauling around all that equipment, apps , and whatnot ? Why not take a break. Why not chill out for an hour. Be a Stump.

"Be a Stump" is my term for sitting down and doing absolutely nothing except breathing and paying attention. The idea is to be very still and quiet. No gear required. Just sit there without moving and see what happens.

Since you're gonna be there awhile, pick a good spot. I find that being partially hidden in vegetation, or whatever is helpful, but not strictly necessary - you can be a Stump out in the open too. Or a Rock ,or whatever isn't moving in your neighborhood.

Being a Stump really is a form of meditation. At first you may be barraged by all sorts of mental clutter like " I'm wasting my time here when I could be seeing more birds driving around!", or " I can't believe I missed the details on that shorebird - I think it was rare !", or " did I leave the backdoor unlocked, forget to pay that bill, fill the gas tank", etc. etc. etc. But if you sit there long enough and just pay attention to the nature around you, you may achieve that wonderful state of not thinking at all - just experiencing. You are now a Stump.

But with ears and eyes! Some of my favorite experiences being a Stump have been at Wildberry Lake in Mason Co. Once when needing a little space for myself, I crawled into a dense thicket of Salal and Evergreen Huckleberry and sat there propped up against the trunk of a Shore Pine.( I might add that when sitting on the ground, tucking your pants into your socks can prevent small creatures from crawling up your pants as you sit there unmoving). Soon things quieted down. I sat there for a half hour or so when the first Chipmunk came by ,followed by a Douglas Squirrel. The Chipmunk ran over my legs without seeing me, but the Squirrel started climbing up my leg and I couldn't help grinning. The Squirrel, realizing " hey, you aint no Stump!" ran to a nearby fir and gave me the what for. Cover blown!

Later I came back, after the rodents had cleared out, and tried again. My little brushpatch gradually quieting down, but then coming back to life again, as I resumed Stump state. Little noises in the shrubbery, bugs, a shrew, a lizard, and then something behind me rustling. This is when you need to be stock still. Closer and closer the rustling came and with a flit a bright male MacGillivray's Warbler landed on my foot. I really couldn't help but smile at that, and cover blown again, the bird took off. I crawled out of there a happy camper.

Being a Stump sometimes works all too well. On the shore of an old Beaver pond near Wildberry I sat on a big old dried up fir log that dropped down the bank and into the water. Doing my Stump thing out in the open. This general area is one of the quietest places I know (except on weekends with hoards of ORV's). Soon I heard a rustling in the distant Cattails. It grew louder and louder. And then I could hear heavy breathing, and snorting sounds. " Eeek, a Bear!" I thought. But no Bear appeared - it was a 3/4 grown River Otter, and it slipped quietly through the open water to my log. I was still a Stump when the Otter bounded up the log not seeing me at all, and just before it jumped in my lap I stood up - I have seen Otter teeth before- and the Otter was back in the pond in a flash. Being an Otter though, its curiosity overcame it's initial shock and it popped up vertically out of the water and gave me a long look. Nope, not really a Stump.

Anyway, being a Stump is a great experience for all ages. Just don't smile - it could blow your cover.

Jeff Gibson
Everett Wa