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Poetry Sunday: End of Summer by Stanley Kunitz

I've featured this poem here before but here it is again. So sue me! I actually like the poem quite a lot. I particularly like the image in the first stanza of the "unloved year" turning on its hinge. This year, which goodness knows has given me little reason to love it, will be turning on its hinge in a few days as the seasons change and we head into its last quarter. I can only hope that in these last three months the year's "agitation of the air" and "perturbation of the light" might finally redeem 2025 for me and give me a reason to remember it with fondness. End of Summer by Stanley Kunitz  An agitation of the air, A perturbation of the light Admonished me the unloved year Would turn on its hinge that night.   I stood in the disenchanted field Amid the stubble and the stones, Amazed, while a small worm lisped to me The song of my marrow-bones.   Blue poured into summer blue, A hawk broke from his cloudless tower, The roof of the silo blazed, a...

This week in birds - #652

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  A roundup of the week's news of birds and the environment : Is there any bird that is more adorable than the Blue-gray Gnatcatcher ?  I always look forward to my first sighting of these little sprites in the spring. They spend their winters south of us, all the way down to Central America. Some supposedly even spend their winters around here (in Southeast Texas) although I've never actually seen one until early spring. Their population is increasing and, goodness knows, the world could always use more Blue-gray Gnatcatchers! This little bird is the American Bird Conservancy's Bird of the Week . *~*~*~* From a list of monumentally bad ideas, the EPA has chosen to approve four new pesticides that qualify as PFAS ("forever chemicals") . *~*~*~* The U. S. has banned some foreign fish imports and that could help conserve marine mammals worldwide. *~*~*~* Maybe we need to think differently about animal intelligence and acknowledge that there is much we don't kno...

Poetry Sunday: Paul Revere's Ride by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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When I was a child, my family had a storm cellar. We lived in an area that had been ravaged by tornadoes and two of our neighbors had been killed in one of them. My father was terrified by the prospect of a tornado. I think it also had something to do with his experience in World War II; the thunder and lightning reminded him of those sounds.  At any rate, when I was child, I spent a lot of time in the storm cellar and I had a book of short stories and poems to entertain me while we were there. All of that is to tell you about where I first encountered "Paul Revere's Ride." It's one of the first poems I can remember other than the nursery rhymes of childhood. At one point, I even memorized it and, still today, I can  recite quite a bit of it. For some reason, all of that came back to me last week as I followed the news of the day and I thought again of that last stanza:       Through all our history, to the last,       In the hour of darkness...

This week in birds - #651

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A roundup of the week's news of birds and the environment :  I always enjoy watching the Double-Crested Cormorants whenever I'm near a body of water, and, thankfully, the birds are still common enough that they are almost always present on any body of water around North America. This species' population was declining, as were many birds, before the outlawing of DDT in 1972 but it is now considered stable, although the bird sometimes faces persecution from fishermen who consider it a rival. The cormorant is the American Bird Conservancy's Bird of the Week . *~*~*~* The current administration in Washington has released a climate report and, as you might expect, it was a bit of a farce. It has been denounced by researchers who have reviewed it. *~*~*~* Light pollution at night can be a serious problem. Should we establish a "right to darkness" ? *~*~*~* The journey south continues for Monarch butterflies seeking their winter homes. *~*~*~* The "Roadless R...

Poetry Sunday: From Blossoms by Li-Young Lee

I seem to be stuck in a rut with poetry these days, remembering my mother as she worked to preserve the harvest from our fruit trees. It is that time of year, of course, the time when the trees' produce is full-grown and ready to be harvested. She canned the fruits as they were or turned them into jams, jellies, or preserves to be enjoyed in winter. I especially remember those delicious peaches and the blossoms from which they came... From Blossoms by Li-Young Lee From blossoms comes this brown paper bag of peaches we bought from the boy at the bend in the road where we turned toward    signs painted  Peaches . From laden boughs, from hands, from sweet fellowship in the bins, comes nectar at the roadside, succulent peaches we devour, dusty skin and all, comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat. O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands...