In the months of September and October, I embarked on a eastern seaboard fall bird migration trip that took me to the Eastern Shore of Virginia and Maryland as well as Barnstable and Provincetown on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. It was important for me to take this trip because it preceded my intense dissertation writing that takes place in November and December. I am from North Carolina, but I live in Nebraska as that is where I am attaining my PhD in Geography (historical). You all know from my about section that I am a bereaved mom and mystic birder, so going hundreds of miles to follow the birds should not really surprise anyone.
It did make some people think I was insane, namely my parents and siblings. My mother was mostly concerned about the costs, but also the wear and tear on my newly acquired birdmobile, the Volkswagen Golf. But I explained to my mom that cars are for driving! As long as I keep it serviced, all is good. Alles gut (As they say in Germany).
It was an important trip. I had moments on the beach admiring the scenes of nature and also being one with God and the Spirit of my dear son Ricky who now lives in two places, my heart and in Heaven.
I cried. I cried a lot. But I also received the messages of hope that God always sends.

I saw so many Gulls! I also saw White Winged Scoters! But my trip sadly coincided with an arriving Nor’easter, so I believe some of the birds I would have seen, I did not see because the weather might have marooned them elsewhere.
What the gulls taught me was to float along with life’s currents. God knows the grief journey is gut wrenching, filled with anguished, and inherently isolating. But the image of the gull floating along, not a care let me know that I was in the Loving Hands of God and to lean into his Holy Embrace.








