Do You Have a Front Row Seat for Nature’s Productions?

Lon’s rain garden stage seen from the balcony, through partially drawn green curtains.

I have my own balcony seat for stage productions. It is not at Hancher Auditorium and it welcomes flooding, producing some of its more memorable dramas during high water. Visitors might mistake it for just a rain garden, with a one-acre watershed that includes my roof, and supports a little pond enclosed by a little wetland, but it is much more than just a rain garden.

ACT XV. SCENE 254
Last year, early in the summer, I happened to notice that one of nature’s productions was underway, and I hurried to take my balcony seat. It was a rather bizarre scene in which a male red-winged blackbird, with epaulettes flashing, was attacking the water. I felt this was bizarre in that from a Darwinian perspective, evolution should have weeded out such foolish behavior long ago. Obviously this wasn’t gaining territory, a mate, or food for the species’ survival. However, getting out my opera glasses revealed a pair of large widely-spaced eyes which would surface before the red-wing struck and submerge again just a second before the bird actually made contact. So a villain was lurking. The focus of everyone’s attention was a nest of fledglings in the bur-reeds just behind the hovering red-wing. And Mrs. Red-wing was all aflutter around the nest, whether in a panic or attempting to distract the villain, I never learned. The scene kept repeating and I finally had to depart. Returning a few hours later, the nest was a shambles in the pond and all the actors, including the fledglings, were gone. I suppose the conclusion was inevitable, because hovering was energetically expensive for the attacking birds, while the big turtle expended minimal effort in shifting its buoyancy.

ACT XVI. SCENE 259
This year, the first returning gypsies to appear were a cozy pair of wood ducks who dabbled together daily for many weeks and then disappeared. Had the villain returned? But the next day a pair of red-wings were there. Was this the same pair as last year? Would they pick a more turtle-proof nest site? Were they too inexperienced last year? Did they chase off the wood ducks? Does the big turtle have a territory and is this just one stop on his route? Do the red-wings just hope to get the young airborne before the turtle returns?

We spectators imagine that we know the plot, having caught a few scenes before. But we have arrived very late, by perhaps thirty or forty million years, and ought to have a little more humility and pay closer attention to these natural interactions as they unfold continuously.

So do you have a rain garden – or another stage set for an engaging production? Keep an eye out and you can have front row seats.