Political issues going to the birds...

Imagine if you can, being on the edge of a fog covered field that encompasses acres and acres of green space. No garbage, no rundown slumlord houses, no political signs.

Imagine if you can, the dead silence of the dawn being broken by thousands upon thousands of calls of the majestic and graceful sandhill crane, interrupted only by the faint whistling of the wings of waterfowl as it flies unseen in the veil of morning fog the wraps around you.

Hushed whispers of those around you, not speaking of EDIT funds, brown fields, corrupts businesses and politicians. But the whispers of "what lens are you using", or "good morning, haven't seen you since last year, how have you been"

Then the sky erupts in an orange glow, and a soft cool breeze meets your face, the fog slowly begins to lift, and float away, and you are greeted with the awe inspiring sight of tens of thousands of birds, some as nearly as tall as you, literally dancing with one another in dew covered fields, singing to one another in a chorus that quickly rises to a level that would rival even the greatest of sound systems at the biggest of concerts. But with more energy. The energy of life, the start of a new day.

This is where I want to be, standing on the fog covered edge of Ewing Bottoms, playing witness to the annual migration of the glorious sandhill cranes. Not where I am at now in my mind. Surrounded by political turmoil.

The simple beauty of watching the sun lazily rise over a marsh, or taking the time to sit under a crab apple tree to watch a flock of cedar waxwings building their fat reserves to make their flight to warmer climates.

Or watching a group of River Otter playing tag in a wetland, chasing one another, splashing and making a slip and slide out of a muddy stretch of bank.

These are the places I belong, these are the places that I love, and these are the places and times that deserve my focus of attention, and my dedication to documenting and preserving to ensure that future generations have the ability to relish in the sights, sounds and smells of.

And as such, I am retiring "New Albany Eyesores" for a new blog. The new blog will be about the wonderful chances we have here in this area to experience a wealth of natural beauty that is often over looked in what can be considered "greener grass syndrome".

We are blessed with bald eagle, osprey, warblers with so many different sizes, shapes and colors to rival even the brightest of rainbows, and scenes of migration that rival those depicted on national geographic. One just has to slow down, and take the time to do something almost unheard of anymore, sit and wait, and watch.

To those who continue to try and fight for the betterment of our city, I wish you the best of luck in your endeavours, and your tenacity, it is appreciated. As for me, its time to move on, and focus on what I know is the best thing not only for me, but for the environment as well.

Roger, on a personal note, I have promised myself to take up drinking, and I would like to issue you a challenge to find me a beer I like! (and in a show of how small of world it is, whilst hiking in the back marshes of Muscatatuck to photograph a pair of nesting bald eagle, I ran into gentleman from a company in Cincinnati that designs and manufactures tanks for beer breweries, and it would appear that NABC's reputation for creating quality craft beers can find its way into even a flooded, backwater, marsh!!)