Category Reflections

Clockwork Orange:

The only similar feeling of horror and sadness and disbelief that I feel this morning was when Ronald Reagan won in 1980. Reagan was an actor, a pretender and an environmental despot who vowed to turn back a decade of gains since…

WayBack: Fragments June 2002

Towards the end of writing elsewhere about the start of the writing habit–and later, the shift toward writing from, for and about nature–I’ve been revisiting the earliest days of the blog via the Wayback Machine.  So don’t say you weren’t…

Finding Water: A Draft

So I may have mentioned (and perhaps one reader noticed) that I am accumulating draft pieces toward a third book if all goes well. (All never goes well, sometimes something does, OTOH, and I’ll take it.) The working title changes…

The Biology of Vocation

There was a time when, on this blog, I posted a couple of times a week about some new discovery from the natural world or about some oddity or creature feature that amazed me. That, after all, is who I…

Once, Never Twice, Upon a Time

Crestwood–the Birmingham neighborhood where I lived during my four years at Woodlawn High–was indeed, once upon a time, a wooded crest at the tip of the very southern-most Appalachian Mountains. Baby boomer demand for houses turned it, in my childhood,…

Old-fashioned Mind Play

Make-believe was our most important entertainment equipment, our XBox mindcrafting soft technology some six decades ago. Graphic display was called “imagination” spontaneously projected on the screen of the visual brain. Sound effects were produced on the spot. Some–like rolls of…

Irrepressible Expressions of our WhoNess

You’ll be happy you clicked through the images produced by “Flora Forager” from natural bits of color and shape. At least taking time to appreciate the details of these creations perked me up after spending way  more time than was…

The POINT of a Hundred Points of Light

[su_youtube_advanced url=”https://youtu.be/X1RWfhGBFyc” rel=”no”] I really must take control of the morning coffee-browse, because it invariably sends me off down rabbit trails other than the intentional path I thought I was going to take, and really should have gotten right on,…

To Us a Child is Born

“The Herdmans were absolutely the worst kids in the history of the world. They lied and stole and smoked cigars and used the Lord’s name in vain. They hit little kids and cussed their teachers and set fire to Fred…

Twixt Earth and Sky

This is one of my hugging trees. I confess that I often hope when touching or wrapping my arms around a favorite tree, up around the bend, out of sight of the road, back along the banks of Nameless Creek, that…