Writings of Constance Ore ( 1937 – 2010 )

(sound from Cornell Lab of Ornithology)

We returned late this afternoon from our long weekend “road trip” which featured the Niobrara State Park, NE., where we stayed in a cabin atop a high cliff overlooking the confluence of the Missouri and Niobrara rivers. This was perhaps the quietest place I’ve been for some time; one could hear one’s own heart beat and breath in the silence. No airplanes, cars, boats, or trains’ engines sounded anywhere around the edges of stillness. Coyotes at sunset, birds throughout the day and on into the night and some movements through the grasses kept us aware of the life surrounding us. When I was in grade school, one of the reading books had a great story about the Whippoorwill and how it got its name, so after all this time, it was grand to actually hear it right after sundown, repeating its three pitched “whip poor will” call. I always think at such moments, “If no other thing happens within this day, I have had an experience new to me, and that makes it time well spent.”

It is good to find magic in unexpected places, and when these places are not far from home, and home is Nebraska, it is even better. We went across an old railroad trestle (now a walking path) which presented geometric shapes arranged in a very straight pattern across the shifting and untidy back waters. Its placement permitted us to see small flocks of American pelicans going through their morning routines, as well as cliff swallows gathering at their mud nests on the steep banks of the river. We watched bald eagles flying up and down the waterways – they are more common now than in the past, but it is still a grand sight since they are so huge.

We finished off our adventure with a stop at the Ashfall Fossil Beds State Historical Park where we walked through masses of wildflowers to the “Rhino Barn”, a large enclosure which features archeology students working on unearthing ever more fossils – this apparently is the only known site in the world where entire three-dimensional skeletons of large prehistoric animals are preserved. The volcanic ash from a volcano in what is today Idaho killed hundreds of animals, including rhinos, camels, three-toed horses, and birds, among others, and preserved their remains.

The signs spoke of “millions of years” having passed, and I considered a civilization many years in the future digging about in our present culture’s debris and carefully writing up the scope and meaning of the plastic bags, medical waste, or other deleterious materials that it finds.

We agreed upon our return that even a short time away on a trip felt like an adventure. On the last evening out, my own health moved into a new sphere with a few moments of unconsciousness as I hugged John-paul good-night; the sense of being “gone” came on so suddenly that it was startling to find myself lying on the floor with both dear ones bending over me, taking pulse, and looking anxious. Since then, I have had an unsettled feeling in my head and a great weariness in my person.