A Living Magazine - Prologue 1 - Too Shrill a Mockingbird

I spent my first night rough camping since I slept next to an AM/PM store in the middle of Tucson, Arizona, back on January 20th. These days camping in Livermore, before the journey begins, are going to be a good way to see what I'm doing right with my packing and the nature of any problems that may come up.

I worked at the Livermore Public Library until 9:00 pm last night. It had rained all day (a rare event here), but the drops stopped falling around 5:00 pm. The nice thing (at least for me) about the air here is that the humidity is usually so low that the wet ground mostly dries within a couple hours. Such was the case last night. I made my way to a spot I'd already picked out last week. It is off of the Arroyo Bike Trail, very near Our Savior Lutheran Church. I had also scoped out the entire trail for other spots as back up sleeping alternatives.

So with that information and this picture, you might be able to see the actual spot. I can't really highlight the exact coordinates until I leave the city next weekend (Sunday, the 21st)...

  

Livermore Sleep Spot 1

I really wanted to take pictures of how simple my sleeping set up was, but forgot my camera. It is in my army vest, which is keeping my walking stick and Camelbak company at Sheryl and David Sixsmith's house; stored until I leave town next week. I should have it tonight though. 

Essentially, I laid the folded tarp (about 3 feet by 7 feet) across the still-damp grass, then spread out the sleeping bag. My shoes were kept neatly at the foot-end of the tarp, with the backpack sitting at the head end, along with my wallet, some spare change and my glasses.

When I arrived there only about 10 minutes after leaving the library, the Livermore Rodeo Grounds area (just adjacent to my sleep spot) had a great band - Michael Beck - playing for their Livermore Rodeo Mixer. Very good sound system and really rocking players. Michael had a great voice, judging from the few last songs that I heard. And it was a big crowd. From the size of the applause, I'd estimate it to have been in the hundreds--maybe a thousand people.

They ended at 10:00 pm. I decided to lie down and see if I could fall asleep. I'd been up until about 3:30 am that morning talking with Sheryl and David about their trip to the East Coast and back. I was taking care of the house and dog sitting for Racer for the last week, and it was great to see them back after having a good time in Georgia and South Carolina, where they both had lived in the past. And, I'd only slept until about 7:00 am. 

So, I did fall asleep easily as the clouds completely cleared away and the stars could be seen. It was very peaceful. I had been concerned about insects in that field, but until the morning I saw not one. The air was warm and still somewhat muggy. I fell asleep on top of the sleeping bag, knowing I'd probably be sweating, but also that the temperature would drop as the drying progressed. I would crawl into it later. I did dream over the night, but can't remember what I dreamed about. The sleep was deep and I made it through about 5.5 hours without waking, opening my eyes while it was still dark at about 4:00 am. I fell back to sleep for an hour, until I awoke again to the sound of birds and the clink of a dog chain. 

It is a quiet and isolated spot. Even during the night, I really heard no other cars besides those leaving the rodeo grounds. The morning was a bit louder. The man with the dog jogged past along the fence of the rodeo grounds driveway, very near me. But neither he - who was close enough that I could see his red hat go by above the tall grass - nor his dog discovered my spot. This did, however, indicate to me that it was time to rise and pack up.

Just then - while I lazed around planning the day in my head - a mocking bird landed on the tree right beside me. Now, I'd seen mockingbirds around town many times in the last four months. I always loved to stop and listen to their many faceted songs. People probably already know that mockingbirds pick up the sounds of other species of birds, as well as reptiles, mammals and even distinctly human sounds. The individual I was used to hearing each morning as I walked to the library sat atop of the power pole on S. Livermore Road, directly across from that same Lutheran church's parking lot entrance.

The males sing these medleys and jump about three feet to do quite an elaborate little dance in the air, before settling back down to their favorite branch to sing again. Well, I don't know if it was the same bird (since I was camped rather near that S. Livermore Road power pole--as the crow, or in this case, mockingbird, flies), but the one in the nearby tree began his routine, sounding very similar to the power pole bird.

First came all the different bird sounds. I recognized a few. Though I didn't know the names of most of the birds he had bootlegged and sampled, I distinctly heard a robin and a chickadee. Some of the other songs were quite unfamiliar. Females presumably get all turned on by the quantity of songs he knows and the quality with which he sings them--and of course his air dancing. Yet, I'd never seen a female mockingbird. The life of a singer can be a lonely one.

After his first set of bird songs, without getting lucky by attracting a groupie "chick," he began his second set: reptile noises. There were frogs and peepers, hisses and clicks. This went on for an unsettling amount of time. He finally stopped and looked around, cocking his head and hopping from branch to branch to get a full view of the area.

Undeterred by his failure to get laid, he launched into his magnus opus; a set of human-inspired sounds. First came a cell phone that was so realistic I actually thought it might be the jogger and his dog, back to investigate a bright blue Lycra patch of field he might have caught out of the corner of his eye earlier. It was the famous Motorolla satellite phone sound.

Then came a squeaky car brake, a turn signal click, what sounded like the opening of a soda can--complete with the release of carbonation!, a baby's whine and a stapling sound. I was astounded! His rather annoying concert introduction had turned into a radical, ambient, avant-garde extravaganza. He seemed to be trying to land a part on the sound effects team of a new motion picture. What had been too shrill and even mildly irritating turned into a fascinating display of natural talent. 

He finished this last set with another cell phone sound; the old fashioned Ma Bell rotary phone ringing. When he got done and did his next look around for the lady birds, I stood up and clapped. He ran forward and faced me; turning his head to peer with each eye individually. We looked at each other for a moment. Then to my surprise he plowed into an iTunes-like randomized hit factory, mixing his entire repertoire of sounds like a master MC, in quick succession. It was an impressive encore. I wasn't sure if I had become a rival male to him, a pretty female or just another animal from which to steal a new sound. At the coda, and with a ritarding decrescendo, he stopped suddenly. I imagined him bowing. 

It had been a brilliant performance. And like all passionate musicians, he had stuck it out, even though I was his only audience. He looked back at me one last time and then flew away.

My pack-up was super quick. The new arrangement of stuff (all IN the pack, with nothing Bungeed on to the outside), was effective and finally efficient enough to give me an extra boost of confidence about handling all the camping spots soon to come.

It was still early when I headed back up the bike path and downtown to buy a coffee. This was a great start to the pre-journey; inspiring, and executed with a good deal of ease on my part. We will see what tomorrow brings.

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Please check in tomorrow and every day for the next six months if you can. This should only get more and more interesting!

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Thanks for reading. I'm so excited to have you with me as we wallk into a new adventure!