Urban Wildlife Magic: An Evening Drive to Heal My Soul - Aug 22, 2025

What does a wildlife photographer do when unexpected emergency surgery forces her to rest, recover, and stay grounded?

She lasts six days.

After that, the wild calls too loudly to ignore. My heart, soul, and mind were done being couch potatoes. I needed to breathe in fresh air, feel the heat of the sun, and — most of all — reconnect with nature.

So I made myself a promise: no long treks, no overexertion, no wallowing in recovery pain. I strapped on my 600mm lens, eased gently into my car, and set off for a quiet evening drive through my urban neighborhood. No expectations. Just openness.

And the universe showed up.

The first gift of the evening: an Osprey nest perched high atop a towering stadium lamp post — a home perfectly chosen above the noise and chaos of city life.

Two adults ruled their perch like kings and queens of the urban wild. One rested with its eyes closed, soaking in the golden summer light, while the other called out sharply to juveniles tucked deep within the nest.

Up close through my lens, they were breathtaking. Their brown and white feathers shimmered in the warm sun, delicate yet strong, and their golden eyes radiated an ancient wisdom that felt both grounding and humbling.

What struck me most was their composure.

Cars drove by, kids laughed, music drifted from the park below, and yet… the Osprey remained completely unbothered by the chaos beneath them. Their world existed above it all, anchored in sunlight and instinct.

And maybe that was the message the universe whispered through them: Rise above the noise. Find your sanctuary. Hold your perspective. Even when life feels loud and messy, there’s always a higher perch where you can rest in your own light.

It was a magical moment — one where the wild and the urban blurred, and I felt grateful to witness their quiet sovereignty so close to home.

Lying in that hospital bed just days earlier, I’d almost given up.

The pain was overwhelming, and spending 10.5 hours in the ER felt endless and surreal — like time had slowed to test my spirit. But through it all, one thing kept me going: the thought of all the wildlife I have yet to see, all their stories and experiences I have yet to share.

Every bird, every bunny, every deer, every seal — they each carry their own narrative. And I want to be there to witness it, to document it, to honor it.

That vision — of returning to the wild, of holding my camera in my hands and breathing in the untamed — became my anchor.

Step by step, breath by breath, I focused on one foot in front of the other, on rest, recovery, and resilience. And this evening drive, gentle and slow, was my first step back into the magic I love.

Further along, the universe had more surprises in store.

Turning down a quiet residential street near the water, I spotted my first two wild bunnies. They were nibbling at dry grass on someone’s front lawn, their soft bodies glowing in the last threads of sunlight.

Through my lens, their ears lit up like lanterns of delicate pink, their tiny noses twitching as they pulled at the grass. They knew I was there but weren’t afraid. Safe in their own rhythm, they simply… existed.

And that’s when it hit me: Be soft, even in unexpected places. The bunnies were thriving in the heart of suburbia — resilient, adaptable, and utterly at peace with the space they inhabited.

It reminded me to slow down, savor small moments, and honor the quiet beauty hiding in plain sight.

Just a few streets over, a mama deer and her spotted fawn stood grazing by a hedge.

.

I lifted my camera, whispering to myself, “It’d be nice to get a face shot for once.”

As if on cue, the fawn turned, locking its deep, curious eyes with mine.

Coincidence? No — the universe speaks softly when our hearts are open enough to listen.

By the time I reached the marina, the sun was melting into gold, and the air was alive with sound. Seagulls screeched overhead, purple martins darted between masts, and crows erupted in sharp cries.

Something was happening.

Then — a flash of feathers and chaos sharpened into focus.

A stunning Cooper’s Hawk leapt from boat to boat, scavenging for seafood scraps while the crows dive-bombed in furious protest.

I sank onto a nearby bench, captivated by the wild theater unfolding in front of me. The hawk was fierce and determined, his russet-chest feathers glowing in the fading light and his steely eyes locked on his purpose. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t scatter.

The message was clear:

Stay grounded in your purpose. There will always be distractions, noise, and resistance, but when you focus on what you seek, you find your way through the chaos.

Close your eyes and recenter when needed to keep going.

Watching him dance between boats, unshaken by the uproar, was a reminder of what persistence looks like in its purest, most instinctive form.

In less than an hour, just a short drive from my door, I was reminded of life’s quiet truths:

The Osprey taught me to rise above and find clarity.

The bunnies showed me the power of softness and presence.

The Cooper’s Hawk reminded me to stay focused and trust my instincts.

Six days without photographing wildlife had felt like forever, but this evening healed me in ways I didn’t know I needed.

Nature speaks — sometimes in whispers, sometimes in symphonies — and the universe is always guiding us if we take the time to slow down and listen.

I’m endlessly grateful to live where wild beauty thrives, weaving magic into even the most urban spaces. Sometimes, you just need to get in the car, follow your heart, and let the wild show you the way.