Continue reading]]> My college campus is divided in two. Between the East and West Campus is a bridge that overlooks a small wooded creek. It’s beautiful in the spring and summer and stunning in the snow. One day, during a particularly stressful day, I took one of the hiking trails down just to get away from everything for a hot second. I was able to get close to this shallow part of the creek, just stand there taking it in. Not thinking about assignments or quizzes, not thinking of anything in particular. Just… listening. It was a beautiful little moment of calm, just listening to the woods around me.

Grace

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Post your stories, poems, videos, and photos of your local aquatic explorations, whether pond, lake, river, ocean or ditch. Get out with your family, friends, parents, grandparents, kids, grandkids, or favourite club.

It’s a cure for ‘nature deficit disorder’!

Also… You and your local liquid could appear in a future episode, as The Amphibiographer will choose some of the most intriguing places to visit!!!

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                                                                 “Get Out and Get Wet”

Continue reading]]> When lots of storm water would come in late spring, I remember seeing toads come up out of the mud from under the porch at my Grandma’s house. We would sit in the chairs out by the steps and count the little hopping forms casting blips of shadow on warm pavement. Grandma said that’s why they came out, to sit on the warm cement in the cool evenings. We would watch this little parade of toads in the pale light of a corner street lamp. When the moon was full, it outshone that street lamp, I remember because I could see to climb in the magnolia tree, her broad soft leaves grew in clusters which bunched, and as I moved through the thin branches, they would bend and open, the large cracks letting in moonlight to guide my feet and hands. On those nights lots of neighborhood kids stayed out late to play because we could all see so well. In the small town of Binger Oklahoma, on warm summer nights under the full moon, children were aloud to play outside together in the dark without fear. In all my childhood wanderings in that rural town, in all the times I saw wild things and played in wild places, I never felt afraid. There were poisonous snakes, rabid dogs, flash floods, tornadoes, thunderstorms, black widows, angry bulls, feral cats, and drunk strangers, none of which I ever had a problem with in my time outside. I had awareness, quiet observation, instinct, common sense, and the experience of moving through a familiar landscape to my credit. I knew what was ok and what was not. I didn’t stick my hand down holes, talk to strangers, approach animals bigger than me (as a child most things you can’t hold in two hands easily is bigger than you), and I always let adults know where I was headed. My father would call me home with a Bobwhite Quail whistle which somehow managed to travel through the wind to my ear wherever I was. His method of calling me home always seemed to work. Back in the city with my mother’s mother, Grandmother, a store bought whistle was employed with less success. I think the noise of that fast flowing creek water made it hard to hear. Somewhat ironic, the name of that stream back in the city where my Mother’s parents lived was Quail Creek! I never was or heard a quail there though.

by Liz Crain

Continue reading]]> I would climb up in the great big sycamore next to the blighted willow who’s stump was all my father left standing in the yard after he cut her down. The tire swing hung from her arm when I was very little, too small to climb, I would let her wispy drapes tickle my nose, her cascading leaves brought welcome shade in summer’s hottest hours. After she died, I took to the nearest elder, Sycamore had stood tall for a long time. His patchy bark had many smooth places for a child’s legs and arms to wrap around, the climb up was tricky, but strong branches held me safely and I could go so high up. Moths and ants lived under the loose bark on the trunk. I would leave bone offerings to the tree for protection. Sometimes I would take the mice from traps in the house and hang them from the lowest branches to keep away evil spirits. I don’t know where these rituals came from, only that I knew they were to keep bad things away. At the top of the tree wind would do her best to shake me out of the branches, but I would sway with the entire tree and feel right at home rocking back and forth through an afternoon watching the horizon dip and spin in the distance. During violent thunderstorms, I would not go up in my Sycamore. Thunder beings were not to be trifled with. They were beautiful and hideous at the same time. One moment the sky would light up with white dragons ripping across billowing black mountains in the heavens, in the very next instant, many times, simultaneously, the thunderous roar of raging tempests slammed my pounding heart through the back of my chest! I would watch storms from my bedroom window at night. In darkness, you cannot see a storm coming, you hear it, or see the flashes in the distance if you’re already awake from the electricity in the air. That electric energy is still with me whenever I have to sit somewhere for a long time. It’s a restless feeling, like the grass always moving in the wind. When things get calm, it signals the approaching storm. This itching is ingrained in my frame, every bone feels it when the weather changes. As a child I would always worry about where the animals were during bad storms. I wondered where the birds would hide during a tornado. I still have nightmares about spinning wind towers.

by Liz Crain

Continue reading]]> In mid-western Oklahoma I remember playing in swimming holes at the start of summer. These rain collection holding ponds gathered run off from the dry land and held it through the hot months so water would be available to livestock in the area. They also hosted an abundance of wildlife from deer, armadillo, and turkey, to any number of birds, reptiles, and amphibians. Those ponds are gone now, have been for over a decade. There’s been a drought in Oklahoma, most of the mid west, for a long time. I remember catching frogs and seeing snakes, horned toads, and lots of birds around. I’ve not seen a horned toad in the wild since I was 9. At 30, I wish it would rain more back home to fill up the ponds again. Maybe the horned toads would come back if we used less chemical in our agricultural pesticides. I’m still wondering why they left. Those lizards spoke to me. We spent a lot of time together in the tall grass and wandering sand dunes of Caddo County. Box Turtle stayed the longest, his kind would come to the top of our hill in the spring to find each other. I think they would meet there cuz our hill was the highest in the area and they could all see it from the nearby valleys. What a place to advertise!

by Liz Crain

Continue reading]]> Early one spring, my husband and I kayaked up Powell Lake for a 3 day trip. We set up camp on a small spit nestled behind a maze of snags and stumps protruding from the water. The perfect place to try out my new snorkle gear! Although sun reflected off the surface, beneath was a murky world of black depths and eerie woodscapes where imagined creatures were lurking. Drawn by the light where shore meets lapping ripples, I happened upon some frogs that hadn’t fully morphed, their tails leaving lines in the sand. Unlike most frogs, these were not afraid of humans or at least not yet maybe. Upon swimming away, 2 of them followed. Amazed, I stood to tell Hank. Just as I was about to call out, one perched his front flippers/claws on the breast seam of my swimsuit. At this point I decided to stay quiet and drink in the moment. Not sure what the frog thought, but he then jumped into my swimsuit! He wriggled around to the back when I tried to scoop him up. After several minutes of giggling and chasing him around, he finally squirmed out. And that concludes my story.
Cheers!
-by Sabrina Vink

Continue reading]]>  Presented to the 2012 International Conference of Sticklebck Researchers where over 100 scientists viewed the film and told us that we captured behaviours never seen before. Many said they would love to snorkel with the fish in their natural habitat like we did, instead of being stuck in labs!

To view the complete film please contact us.

Continue reading]]> Season’s Greeting to All!!
Whether you celebrate Solstice, Chanukah, Christmas or New Year’s have a wonder-filled holiday season and a blessed new year.

We hope you enjoy the soulful and silly holiday tips from some of our furred, finned and feathered friends. All of them are our neighbours on the Sunshine Coast. Some of them are a short walk away and some require a boat to visit…such as the sea lions, whom we can sometimes hear from home but are an hour’s paddle away. We recorded all the video clips and nature sounds and Jude created the music track.

Love, Joy and Peace with All Beings,
Terry and Jude

Note: the video is full 1080 HD if you have the capability.

Continue reading]]> A taste of what the “Get Wet with the Amphibiographer” internet TV series will be like. Watch the ‘Turtle Wranglers’ catch turtles underwater. Terry interviews these scientists who are studying the endangered Western Painted Turtle on the coast of British Columbia Canada. Hear them reveal how hanging out in their ‘Local Liquid’ as kids led to their science careers.

The ‘Aqua Angels’ segment of each episode features people who are working to protect water and all the critters who live there.

Filmed Sept 11-12 2011