On Not Setting Goals

(Click on images to enlarge. Click again to zoom)
The recently plowed ground was unsettling in several ways. There had always been orange trees here. Across the road were ghosts of orange trees. Some dead and withering hulks of their former selves. Some were newly planted and wrapped in plastic giving them an ethereal appearance in the pre-dawn light. Two miles south, about 100 acres of former citrus grove is now filled with tents under which new trees are offered some protection from a devastating greening disease, likely insect borne. The tents are called CUPS (citrus under protective screening) and they are finding some success on a commercial scale.
Will this former citrus grove soon sprout groves under tents? Or new, exposed trees? Or some other crop? Or will we soon see the ominous (in my opinion) shadows of steel and plastic of the rapidly developing fields of solar arrays?
For the moment, we take heart in the fact our sun has decided to rise one more glorious day. Just for us.
As children, we were taught the importance of planning. Lay out our clothes for school tomorrow. Be sure our books and papers are next to the clothes. The complexity of our planning increased with each year. Eventually, we attended formal training on the significance of setting goals. Year-end seminars assessed how successful we were in fulfilling those goals.
Yup. Goal-setting is important. Teach your kids to do it.
However …
Teach them it is just as vital to do stuff that isn’t on their list of goals. Lead them gently outside the box of life as they know it and show them the wonders that might exist out there. Praise them for setting those goals, yes. Encourage them to follow that well-worn path through the forest. Be excited for the one who veers down the lesser beaten path. And should you have one who suddenly tries to claw her way through a bramble to get to a pretty flower – keep a very close eye on her. That rebellious streak is special and needs nurturing.
Gini and I wandered south one morning. We enjoyed that sunrise above, despite the misgivings about the plowed field. Bugs, blooms and birds littered the country roads. We didn’t make a list of anything. We held hands and made eye contact with a vulture.
It doesn’t get much better than that.
An abundance of fences in open spaces usually means an abundance of perchers. A winter visitor illustrates that premise. The Palm Warbler was part of a gang of a dozen feeding nearby.

Blooming flowers attract butterflies like those fences attract warblers. Here, a Dorantes Longtail (Urbanus dorantes) sipped breakfast nectar from a Caesarweed (Urena lobata) bloom. The plant is an invasive which crowds out native flora.

Gini heard the Killdeer calling and we eventually spotted one running across an open patch. If they don’t move, they can be tough to see.

The small Blue Dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis) is one of our more common dragonflies. White face, blue abdomen, racing stripe thorax and those green eyes – identify the male.

As kids, we called the Loggerhead Shrike “Butcher Bird”. They impale their prey on a sharp object like a thorn or barb of a fence wire where it ripens until perfect for a late lunch.

This was only our second sighting of an Ocola Skipper (Panoquina ocola). Don’t tell it that flower is a nasty invasive species. It would just give you that typical butterfly retort: “Hey! Nectar is nectar!“.

Who couldn’t love that face? Other than the Turkey Vulture’s mother.

Large and in charge. Walking through the web of the Yellow Garden Spider (Argiope aurantia) strung across the path in the morning seems obligatory for yours truly.

The unplanned morning drive was incredibly refreshing. No list of anything sighted. No disappointment of not fulfilling a goal. Just total relaxation and enjoyment. We may do it again next year.
Enjoy your search for a natural place and come back for a visit!
(Personal Note: Gini had a successful second total knee replacement recently and is recovering. She has scheduled dance lessons for us this spring. Fingers crossed.)