The Nature of Things

  A roundup of the week's news of birds and the environment : This is a Black Phoebe . It is a resident near watery landscape features all along the west coast of North America and down into Central America and along the western coast of South America. Like other phoebes, it often nests near humans and even in or on human structures. Its population is increasing all along its range. It is the American Bird Conservancy's Bird of the Week . *~*~*~* Jane Goodall became my hero when I first read about her in the pages of the National Geographic back in the 1960s. I've followed her career ever since and I am saddened to know she is no longer physically among us, but what a legacy she has left! *~*~*~* And at the opposite end of the spectrum, what a legacy this man will leave as he wages war on clean energy and seeks to revive "big coal." *~*~*~* Scientists now believe our species could be older than previously thought, based on the reconstruction of a million-year-o...

I seem to be stuck in the poetry of my youth these days. ( I really need to read more current-day poets! ) And this is one of the very earliest poems I can remember. After all these years, it is still a favorite. The Tyger by William Blake Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye,  Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies.  Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat. What dread hand? & what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp. Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears  And water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or ...

  A roundup of the week's news of birds and the environment : This is the Rough-legged Hawk , a bird that breeds in the Arctic and subarctic regions of the world and migrates south during the winter months.  During nonbreeding months, the birds migrate to a wide swath of the mid-section of North America. Some even get as far south as north and west Texas and northern Mexico. It's unlikely that the migrating hawks would get as far south as southeast Texas so I won't be expecting to see one in my backyard! This magnificent bird is the American Bird Conservancy's Bird of the Week . *~*~*~* It seems that we humans are having an effect on animal evolution . *~*~*~* U.S. rivers are heating up in an unprecedented way . *~*~*~* At least fifteen of the world's important archaeological sites are being threatened by the effects of climate change. *~*~*~* And speaking of archaeological sites, archaeologists have uncovered the treasure-filled tomb of the first known ruler of t...

Monday is the first day of autumn, probably the best season of the year where I live - barring hurricanes, of course. Let's celebrate the season along with Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Autumn Song by Dante Gabriel Rossetti  Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the heart feels a languid grief Laid on it for a covering, And how sleep seems a goodly thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf? And how the swift beat of the brain Falters because it is in vain, In Autumn at the fall of the leaf Knowest thou not? and how the chief Of joys seems—not to suffer pain? Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the soul feels like a dried sheaf Bound up at length for harvesting, And how death seems a comely thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?