Category Reflections

Saturday Shorts

â–ºI often thought, when looking up at a crop of walnuts, that it would hurt mightily to be hit by one of those things. I was right. A glancing blow and no permanent damage done, but this time of year,…

February Snow 2005

At midnight  silence beckoned. It told that snow had fallen. I rose to stand listening, fingertips pressed together at a windowsill alter. Creeks flow, hushed and reverent. In a vast forest the size of cities, she and I are the only human…

TIME AND A WORLD OF CHANGE ~ PART IV

Continued from Part III The time-lapse episode I remember most vividly involved the delightful horror of watching a perfectly lovely bowl of fruit shrivel, go gray with mold and turn finally to a black liquid–a natural, everyday process of decay…

TIME AND A WORLD OF CHANGE ~ PART III

The first time-lapse segment I saw on Disneyland was the closest thing to magic I had ever experienced. Normally slow-changing objects or scenes were filmed over hours or days or even weeks with an umoving camera to reveal  glacially-slow and…

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,…

Wakeup Call: Resisting Irrelevance

I slept today until nearly six o’clock. Now this would not be news most places– that someone pushing 70 would get 9 hours sleep. But on Goose Creek, this is, if you’ll pardon the mixed message–a personal wakeup call. Since…