On Noticing

Birds, bees, browned zucchini, and other remarkable things.

I’ve taken to working outside lately. Beyond allowing me to work on my base tan during prime sunning hours¹, this arrangement has given me ample opportunity to notice — and I’ve been doing much of that.

I’ve noticed that the bumblebees can’t get enough of the clover in our yard² — spread and sown for that very purpose — while the honeybees vacillate between clover, potted flowers, wildflowers, and our garden. I’ve noticed the preponderance of dragonflies — undoubtedly attracted by the bees, attracted by the clover and flowers and way too many tomato plants in the garden. The dragonflies attract sparrows — house sparrows, invasive — which not only hunt the insect flittering around the yard, but also have taken to nest underneath the solar panels we installed on the roof. I noticed a bluejay wing from branch to branch, chair to fence post, cocking its head, looking for something that was beyond my own ability to notice.

Sometimes, when I’m coming home, driving up the driveway, I stop to notice the pond. I like to look at the turtles sunning on their logs. I’ve seen a mink swimming around, a beaver twice, and a trail camera we set up has caught coyotes, bobcats, deer, fox, and even once, a very lost turkey³. There’s a pair of herons that hunt it, sometimes — more usually in the morning — looking for the frogs that are now hatching, making their journeys from water to land. Herons fly large and low, evoking dinosaur more than bird. Out back, I watch them fly overhead. Their droppings are remarkable.

The other night, after dinner, I sat with Kiddo on the patio steps, noticing. She said she heard the birds going chirp chirp. She heard the wind blowing, saw it moving the leaves. She said she liked the wind. She thought that maybe there was an airplane overheard; she couldn’t see it, but heard a mrmmmmrmmmm sound. Hey look, she said, there’s the moon.

Kids are better noticers than adults. I think this is because everything is still so new. The moon out alongside the sun is a novelty to a toddler — to us, it’s just the countercyclicality of their orbits. When Kiddo was little, in the car, she never failed to shout Bus! each time we passed one. I think I had previously passed ten thousand busses and scarcely noticed one — unless it was the reason I was running late somewhere. The Warthog does the same thing with dogs, with runners, with bikers, with trucks. They both love airplanes, though Kiddo now has seen enough flying overhead, they don’t spark the same immediate reaction. This pattern repeats itself wherever we are, whatever we’re doing — with one or both kids pointing something out that, subconsciously, I was aware of, but slipped mostly unnoticed amidst all else going on. That white thing? Oh, it’s a newspaper in a bag. Good eye, Kiddo.

I’m trying to notice things more now. To be more present, to find more things remarkable. I mean that in its most literal sense: remark-able. Something worth remarking on. Not to be confused with its connotation — something astounding — but of its French root, remarquer — “to take note of.” Children, especially my children, take note of everything. It’s locked away in the box in their foreheads, saved for later, weeks, months going by until suddenly — Remember a long time ago when we were in the car and this song was playing and I threw up? Or: I see the duck lady’s house! That means we’re almost at the farm!

This type of noticing is hard to do when you’re locked in your own world, harder when the walls to that world are fortified by your phone. That’s why I’m trying to spend less time on my own, especially when I’m with the kids, with Mrs. CWD. Putting it down, I’m left more open to reception, to transmissions from the universe. If you’ve texted or called me and I didn’t promptly respond, I apologize. I’ve been too busy remarking⁴; my phone is set aside. And while I may miss a photo, I’ll be more glad to keep a memory.

One other thing I’ve noticed is that I overplanted our garden, again, this year. Both of our raised beds are overflowing: one with tomatoes, one with zucchini and cucumbers. My winter squash have escaped their bed and are now colonizing grow bags and my bed of greens.

None of this is surprising, since I ignored all conventional spacing guidelines, but does bear mentioning.

With this abundance of veg, it’s only fitting we make use of it this week. Here are some browned zucchinis, one of my favorite preparations. This is about as simple as you can ask for on a summer night and can be served alongside any cut of beef you might pull at random from a hypothetical chest freezer filled with 400 pounds of it.

Using the freshest zucchini (or summer squash) you can find, cut it into circles or half-moons. Season with salt and set aside while you heat up a cast iron pan to hot. Add a knob of butter to the pan, and then sauté les courgettes until they are browned, charring⁵.

Enjoy with rice and meatballs, both of which would be best cooked in bone broth.

And that’s it folks. A simple summer recipe. You can make on the grill as well, either placing the sliced vegetables in a tinfoil boat, or slicing them long and thin and grilling them like sausages. These can accompany almost anything and taste just as good cold in a salad the next day.

With that, I’ll let you finish up your Friday. The Family CWD is decamping North again, for the triumphant return of Nana and Grandfather CWD to New England. Here’s hoping the weather stays below 90 degrees for their sake. Kiddo and the Warthog are already looking forward to swimming and picking blueberries.

As for you, maybe sneak outside to take a call today, noticing what goes on around you — whether that be your backyard, a suburban office park, or a downtown roof deck. I’m sure whatever it is will be worth taking note of.

We’ll see you back here next week.

1. Though the glare from the sun does cut down on my ability to see my computer screen.

2. As do rabbits, much to Doggie CWD’s chagrin.

3. This was news to me, given her reaction to the breeze on boat rides, but perhaps this gentle breeze was more pleasant than the buffeting of lake winds at 30mph.

4. Mrs. CWD wanted me to title this dispatch “Remarking on the Remarkable” — which is a terrific title, but I’ve really boxed myself into a corner with this “On [TOPIC]” thing.

5. I overcrowded this pan, so I didn’t get all the browning I was hoping for in these photos.