tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50913166139282766492024-03-19T04:48:46.161-04:00Notes From The Cloud MessengerDeborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.comBlogger427125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-74300371436146793812009-12-21T14:01:00.002-05:002009-12-21T14:08:56.902-05:00HEARTFELT THANKSMy heartfelt thanks for all my blog friends for your warm words of support for my decision to suspend the Cloud Messenger blog for a while. I look forward to visiting you at your blogs whenever I can, and meanwhile, I hope all your lives are full of love and hope, health and happiness. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wFY6rbAjW2f5uvwkcrqdEH0OsGfqTiq4lKsJPE71PJ2aQq49vaeBgUAkCSyyWxw9rWbddajyjnlMkeNoEG6jaaYtejthPdInzcdZzgf1PVLOC-qqjvDXE-AaaAI2c7hqZhUA_Af33iF-/s1600-h/shutterstock_3885283.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wFY6rbAjW2f5uvwkcrqdEH0OsGfqTiq4lKsJPE71PJ2aQq49vaeBgUAkCSyyWxw9rWbddajyjnlMkeNoEG6jaaYtejthPdInzcdZzgf1PVLOC-qqjvDXE-AaaAI2c7hqZhUA_Af33iF-/s400/shutterstock_3885283.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417766953555950754" /></a><br />Hugs to you all,<br />Deb/Cloud MessengerDeborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com114tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-34406709444787001712009-12-03T09:15:00.007-05:002009-12-03T09:39:25.772-05:00SKYWATCH FRIDAY - Last and First Moon (Lake Erie)“Toss me a cigarette, I think there’s one in my raincoat.”<br />“We smoked the last one an hour ago.”<br />So I looked at the scenery; she read her magazine<br />And the moon rose over an open field.<br /><br />Moonrise, November 30, 2009<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTJIRiD2Wp04okzlEnnDeVo1sBt5rWE10KSfDuEUUzHWQWBYKBjJ5FdVuYfXbKlAf4akW7ElfHF1DlbwmgLpfksH_jzXRs18DJB9MsGew5rTSMvlb7RzNdurxyOZShJ6oCOxbuE2QcU2_/s1600-h/1+C+moonrise+Nov+30+100_0009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTJIRiD2Wp04okzlEnnDeVo1sBt5rWE10KSfDuEUUzHWQWBYKBjJ5FdVuYfXbKlAf4akW7ElfHF1DlbwmgLpfksH_jzXRs18DJB9MsGew5rTSMvlb7RzNdurxyOZShJ6oCOxbuE2QcU2_/s400/1+C+moonrise+Nov+30+100_0009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411013953523899506" border="0" /></a><br />Moonset, December 1, 2009<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDuZczYFafHevGP_xISwgFkIBcYPC-xrGBJHtyXshiCQjq8yezGT_jxcR82LOU9dt6PuaZXDfuHQqKP0dpDEye3zKyvt85syluXu7_3Pt9G0K_xwtaNVrcQw9KBX789DBcI00npkmHKzw2/s1600-h/1+C+moonset+100_0031.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 378px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDuZczYFafHevGP_xISwgFkIBcYPC-xrGBJHtyXshiCQjq8yezGT_jxcR82LOU9dt6PuaZXDfuHQqKP0dpDEye3zKyvt85syluXu7_3Pt9G0K_xwtaNVrcQw9KBX789DBcI00npkmHKzw2/s400/1+C+moonset+100_0031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411013693013221266" border="0" /></a><br />Music Option for those with the time and inclination: “America” – Simon and Garfunkel<br /><br />The hauntingly beautiful melody and lyrics written by Paul Simon create one of the most iconic songs of the late 1960s. It was recorded by the duo for their 1968 album, Bookends, and released as a single in 1972. I always identified with this song, not just because I’m from Michigan, which is mentioned, but for the sense of seeking it so poignantly portrays, something I think we all do at least once in our lives. (Of course, the irony here is that these photos are from across the border, on the Canadian side of the lake!)<br /><br />Click<a href="http://www.youtube.com/?v=gAoArleLZEk"> HERE</a> to listen. Once at YouTube, you can access all the lyrics by clicking on the right where it says "more info."<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />To view more skies from all around our beautiful planet, or to join in, visit <a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com/">SKYWATCH</a>. Live links after 2:30 p.m. EST time or 19:30 GMT. And thanks to the Skywatch team for this weekly meme.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-77171683954821590352009-12-01T09:22:00.008-05:002009-12-01T09:38:31.348-05:00STAR NEWS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0pmiHnRjENQlnI3eXW52vhIrb43aPF-wI5texGJjSo7Buv3IpvBK7sSgbUMjM3Y5ja5C3s8N8H6wIf_7ChVhSa2LFfwphmUs6oJ0V4Wt9FJRfEVJiDgBqPGSF8v0Fp44YvGW8kV2y6LE/s1600/images.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 149px; height: 143px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit0pmiHnRjENQlnI3eXW52vhIrb43aPF-wI5texGJjSo7Buv3IpvBK7sSgbUMjM3Y5ja5C3s8N8H6wIf_7ChVhSa2LFfwphmUs6oJ0V4Wt9FJRfEVJiDgBqPGSF8v0Fp44YvGW8kV2y6LE/s320/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410276922081673202" border="0" /></a><br />A while ago I saw an article about how a pair of physics professors, Craig Heinke, from the University of Alberta and Wynn Ho, from Southampton U. in the UK, have revealed the mystery behind a city-sized chunk of radioactive rock that’s floating around in space for donkeys years. Apparently it took them a whole decade to solve it, but the rock itself is about 11,000 years old, so all things considered, the profs did okay. They were able to determine that the rock is the leftover core of a supernova that blew 11,000 years ago, but didn't actually become visible until 330 years ago (so we shouldn't feel bad either).<br /><br />Heinke explained: <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">This one has been a real puzzle for about 10 years since other astronomers detected this object first. We have been able to figure out what it is. We are able to show conclusively that this is a neutron star, something that was not entirely clear before. Neutron stars are produced when massive stars explode, an event called a supernova. These neutron stars are the remnants left behind and are the densest objects in the universe. The remnant in this case was difficult to identify, partly because of its age. It was an infant neutron star with an unusual carbon wrapping if you like.</span><br /><br />Well, I don’t know about you, but I think that’s really sweet. I like knowing there’s a little baby neutron star up there way over our heads, floating around in a nice soft carbon blankie. Kinda makes you wanna dance for joy, doesn’t it?<br /><br /><object height="265" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WhcjRoU0C7g&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WhcjRoU0C7g&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="265" width="320"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />Image from Wikimedia CommonsDeborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-82528782041652676402009-11-30T14:27:00.009-05:002009-11-30T14:46:57.054-05:00CALLING ALL BIRD DETECTIVES<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWIqdi977ByyDXyvnGLvNnxxQkz2Z1-aXd_FlHStGD7_sCA1H9-Ayf6h47XyIOXBkBgbiKBU2azYPq1LSBoZxp3iEnFuHvl7ga_Yk8YspiyyerOWLtR44QGVCVHHDD7SxkBQillNtMfX2J/s1600/260px-Poecile-atricapilla-001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWIqdi977ByyDXyvnGLvNnxxQkz2Z1-aXd_FlHStGD7_sCA1H9-Ayf6h47XyIOXBkBgbiKBU2azYPq1LSBoZxp3iEnFuHvl7ga_Yk8YspiyyerOWLtR44QGVCVHHDD7SxkBQillNtMfX2J/s320/260px-Poecile-atricapilla-001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409981502876630082" border="0" /></a><br />This weekend my neighbor and I went to the Visitors Center at Point Pelee to get her some postcards and walk the dogs. While there I chatted with the Ranger on duty about the lack of black-capped chickadees in the area. She said that occasionally, the Park might have a couple of them in summer, and in winter maybe a few more. She said no one knows quite why they shun the Pelee peninsula and its surrounding area. I’ve lived here four years now, and have heard not a peep, or make that a “dee-dee-dee’ anywhere. I think if I ever do hear or see one here, I will likely drop whatever I’m holding—hopefully it won’t be anything scalding hot or seriously breakable—and rush to have a look! Anyway, I decided I want to pursue this matter further, so here’s my plan: to determine as closely as possible the area that the chickadees have declared a “no fly zone” around here, and enlist everyone’s help.<br /><br />If you live or visit in the general southwestern Ontario area in Canada (Lake Erie/Lake Ontario area, or Windsor and farther north, or in northern Ohio, or SE Michigan, I’d love to hear a chickadee report from you. And if you know fellow bloggers who might be willing to chime in, please feel free to forward this to them. I’d like to hear from birders and non-birders alike. Chickadees are easy to identify by sight and by call—you don’t need to be an expert. I’m hoping to get an idea just what of the local black-cap distribution is. I’m told there’s a book available that lists the nesting distribution of birds in Ontario, and that may be my last resort, but this way sounds like a lot more fun. So if you’re up for it, please either leave a comment on this post, or email me at dgodin11@gmail.com, and I’ll try to see just how far one has to travel from the Leamington/Pelee area before black-capped chickadees start showing up, and I'll post the results. I’ll also go to work on putting a link to this post in the right-hand margin so you can find it more easily once this post scrolls out of sight.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.birdjam.com/birdsong.php?id=12">LINK</a> with entire repertoire (41 seconds) of black-capped chickadee calls.<br /><br />Photo from Wikimedia CommonsDeborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-53151681872320421472009-11-28T10:35:00.009-05:002009-11-28T10:58:24.612-05:00CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS: Some Have the Knack and Some Don't<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQphXM-4DYRJUwqOLCgZOZdBq3tORDUXpkJWs0Uc-EUNJ3lq4kp4w6ChEQvU-6u1H1whBuEQpZXYzogkONvdbzLNfnDgB_ALSdhTiHPD-BrHLymL-pUXnD9xkWw7EsWGg7HLLlSicq7hX/s1600/ChristmasLightsDitto-479x360.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQphXM-4DYRJUwqOLCgZOZdBq3tORDUXpkJWs0Uc-EUNJ3lq4kp4w6ChEQvU-6u1H1whBuEQpZXYzogkONvdbzLNfnDgB_ALSdhTiHPD-BrHLymL-pUXnD9xkWw7EsWGg7HLLlSicq7hX/s400/ChristmasLightsDitto-479x360.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409184201325301074" /></a><br />Here’s hoping all of you who celebrate Thanksgiving this weekend are having a wonderful time! It was kind of quiet around here this year, because people were either away or under the weather, including me. Being American born and raised, but having lived in Canada for a long time, I feel free to celebrate twice. But I have to admit that no matter how long I live here, Thanksgiving in early October will always seem too soon to me. The rhythm of the cool weather holidays: Halloween leading the charge, followed by Thanksgiving and the Santa parade sliding gently (or frantically) into the December holidays just seems right. A few of my neighbors had their lights up a week or so ago, but I always put up my Christmas decorations <span style="font-style:italic;">after</span> Thanksgiving. So this week I took advantage of a couple of very mild windless days to get everything in place. There’s my single wonky string of “Charlie Brown” lights on the bushes under the front window. A small wreath on the front porch window, and something new this new for the back year: a lightbulb-covered deer I put together myself. I bought one of those brown deer made of some kind of twigs and branches bundled together, a spool of twist tie wire, and then spent a couple of labor-intensive hours anchoring little white lights all over it. I don’t put up my tree anymore. It just seems like too much effort for too little reward. There are only two places in my house where I could put up the tree. The unheated front porch, or the unheated back “Florida” porch, neither of which I can see from my livingroom. But those are the only two places where I can have a tree that the cats can’t get at. If I put the tree up where I could actually <span style="font-style:italic;">see </span>it, the cats would have it wrecked in an hour, and what they didn’t break they’d ingest, so… For my first couple of years here I put the tree up on the Florida porch, but it seemed kind of pointless to put on my heavy coat, go out and turn the tree lights on, look at them for a minute, and go back through the doorwall into the warm house. So, that’s why I wanted the deer in the backyard. I want some Christmas lights that I can actually see from somewhere in my main room. So, now my backyard is decorated too. The best part was watching the squirrels cautiously checking it out for the first time! So, these are my decorations. They may not be the biggest, best or brightest on the block, but hey, we love them!<br /><br />My Christmas Gallery<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibaczGfqIoRV4FvqB0nUbgOgYxOeJ9S-nkivlWObsVyCvWaIJFZgoFsJX0AyKdUlDy5TlV1rQOQgc1GRJ2OUm3unN-Y03GxAxcmSwiwp-vgJfllbNc98mlSdNfs6_Y3vrrjTo596ybp48n/s1600/1+C+window+wreath+100_0017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibaczGfqIoRV4FvqB0nUbgOgYxOeJ9S-nkivlWObsVyCvWaIJFZgoFsJX0AyKdUlDy5TlV1rQOQgc1GRJ2OUm3unN-Y03GxAxcmSwiwp-vgJfllbNc98mlSdNfs6_Y3vrrjTo596ybp48n/s320/1+C+window+wreath+100_0017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409181476444091282" border="0" /></a><br />Wreath and lil’ Santa in the front porch window. The wreath is a little off-kilter from being squished in the box.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The Charlie Brown lights<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqDcerUQhikwX0MA7CcOR9Ho_6sicyy6UgI_z9GIf0KHSsshF4BEJGgmMB5XUjF8mfVfY3RD__m7d1h8e3Mmc4AX4eJtpYxuZSqxA8u4I0VKfwpp85T-r9CX_YWsF_aR6MScPyA3OyX4e/s1600/1+C+front+lights+100_0019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqDcerUQhikwX0MA7CcOR9Ho_6sicyy6UgI_z9GIf0KHSsshF4BEJGgmMB5XUjF8mfVfY3RD__m7d1h8e3Mmc4AX4eJtpYxuZSqxA8u4I0VKfwpp85T-r9CX_YWsF_aR6MScPyA3OyX4e/s200/1+C+front+lights+100_0019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409180979924011570" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_Vy8MhH7Yug28F0ZXiZAsKlUK-oj2smRbKnr0BRpgrGg0iHvn6nMInrw3rUxBNGiB9qr2NoTs3wNzA7slcqQxVNdFgz40iBVvNp3ox0TAbrtN7doInGmGzVUeI8c78pEpfe-8k2oROxz/s1600/1+C+deer+100_0012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 136px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_Vy8MhH7Yug28F0ZXiZAsKlUK-oj2smRbKnr0BRpgrGg0iHvn6nMInrw3rUxBNGiB9qr2NoTs3wNzA7slcqQxVNdFgz40iBVvNp3ox0TAbrtN7doInGmGzVUeI8c78pEpfe-8k2oROxz/s200/1+C+deer+100_0012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409180440981780770" border="0" /></a><br />The deer waiting to be airlifted to the yard. He’s got duct tape and twine on his back because when the winter winds blast off the lake, he must be securely lashed—like Ulysses to the mast—to the trunk of the pollarded ash tree.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3d9N7bzZEXk0zAhvdVP6nzOnZiaXIo-cOKxXiykdsPJ8NNEuN-FqkKdZQIP7jHzC6xhoQwgjo0fv8r36mZQjGZ3ub8kIayEPwOO-9cLemNHiwE8TLn2gLrJcNn4kp08fSx0pp704B7bJ/s1600/1+C+Deer+1+100_0015+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 317px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3d9N7bzZEXk0zAhvdVP6nzOnZiaXIo-cOKxXiykdsPJ8NNEuN-FqkKdZQIP7jHzC6xhoQwgjo0fv8r36mZQjGZ3ub8kIayEPwOO-9cLemNHiwE8TLn2gLrJcNn4kp08fSx0pp704B7bJ/s320/1+C+Deer+1+100_0015+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409180014783344418" border="0" /></a><br />The light test run. It works!<br /><br />The top photo I got from Google Images. I have no idea who took it originally, but it kind of sums it up for me.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-56339051702574802122009-11-26T09:47:00.002-05:002009-11-26T09:50:24.257-05:00HAPPY THANKSGIVINGTo all those who are celebrating this day/weekend...a very warm and happy time!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cEMpSNc1wNfAAEMIQ8DxMPuRDwuCVJZA7J4mVJQK4cSQHB_0RCQ75e4ijYaqEQlrwR3mN9p-pqHdGgbuGHR4coxL0hqr5XrQ46tmauciydHhxafYTNsElNdTMCaC6g3nBNskzx64KOmP/s1600/first.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cEMpSNc1wNfAAEMIQ8DxMPuRDwuCVJZA7J4mVJQK4cSQHB_0RCQ75e4ijYaqEQlrwR3mN9p-pqHdGgbuGHR4coxL0hqr5XrQ46tmauciydHhxafYTNsElNdTMCaC6g3nBNskzx64KOmP/s400/first.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408424317132613906" border="0" /></a>Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-57656322517479608602009-11-25T10:24:00.004-05:002009-11-25T10:38:33.547-05:00ALL THE LEAVES ARE BROWN, AND THE SKY IS GRAY...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcI-vfVZ4lamxjCI8P2XMTlC9XOZum1O8LAequqLee_C24lb07dOXYc7Lp9wpDMw4XDF636EJGIitRRkk4PcCdFUhIIOevxXLndcPdP-B7FD8-Lmu7FoJGXuQ_yLYHpE8AKvh8Gy-81Z6n/s1600/1+C+west+view+100_0008_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 307px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcI-vfVZ4lamxjCI8P2XMTlC9XOZum1O8LAequqLee_C24lb07dOXYc7Lp9wpDMw4XDF636EJGIitRRkk4PcCdFUhIIOevxXLndcPdP-B7FD8-Lmu7FoJGXuQ_yLYHpE8AKvh8Gy-81Z6n/s320/1+C+west+view+100_0008_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408065197588461250" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />...but I'm content to be right where I am, not dreaming of being on the Coast. Here are two recent views from my backyard. The top photo is to the west, with the faint arm of Pigeon Bay hugging the horizon. The second shot is to the east, with the Point Pelee peninsula. Today it's raining, and fortunately the wind isn't too strong, so the back porch windows just may get cleaned and stay that way! It's a beautiful mild day in a rather indeterminate month...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj86Ht9lqy3i3HQZC5JaP8HKj6Wuizi40pGFzN8qzE14kofHmGLk7hpKI2rUUnxmB6B4dPSkk94cyzPVohxBsH9tDOmWqpesPgB5WGbmIqPUg0axVgV9ljQE7ya_zXaEo5oHXRXIg_SzSYq/s1600/1+C+east+view+100_0006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj86Ht9lqy3i3HQZC5JaP8HKj6Wuizi40pGFzN8qzE14kofHmGLk7hpKI2rUUnxmB6B4dPSkk94cyzPVohxBsH9tDOmWqpesPgB5WGbmIqPUg0axVgV9ljQE7ya_zXaEo5oHXRXIg_SzSYq/s320/1+C+east+view+100_0006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408064926328023330" border="0" /></a>Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-89753108346635327362009-11-19T09:05:00.004-05:002009-11-19T09:19:23.585-05:00SKYWATCH FRIDAY - Dots and Dashes (Lake Erie)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglA0Y1IYxprNnII510v9wNVX5EL24dnIEl62mamC810dS0-XXOWiJZXIWMm-3YvoCGawnmXva63AyMskL2sQUgMRH2M6oOFlKGSaX3Fn9_vUUii4ocy1f7aOvi8_j64TrkN8gOkh6xWYm_/s1600/1+C+dots+and+dashes+2+100_0006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 334px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglA0Y1IYxprNnII510v9wNVX5EL24dnIEl62mamC810dS0-XXOWiJZXIWMm-3YvoCGawnmXva63AyMskL2sQUgMRH2M6oOFlKGSaX3Fn9_vUUii4ocy1f7aOvi8_j64TrkN8gOkh6xWYm_/s400/1+C+dots+and+dashes+2+100_0006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405816922020194066" border="0" /></a><br />I’ve been trying to locate the poem below, off & on, for years, and finally on Tuesday, I found it; just in time to go with this photo I took for SWF. The tiny dotted clouds paired with the long dashes (more like stripes, actually) of sun and shadow on the water reminded me of the poem. I’m happy to be able to include it here. See how well you do; the rhyming should help you find the answers. And if you can figure out the last line, let me know; I still haven’t got it!<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Write Your Own Poem</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">by Will Stanton.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">There is a land to all men known</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Where nothing ever stands alone.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Where things are always “something and”</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Connected by an ampersand.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Cup & saucer, north & _ _ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Dun & Bradstreet, hoof & _ _ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Rough & ready, curds & _ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Bag & baggage, Bob & _ _ _</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Off & running, neck &_ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Black & Decker, hunt &_ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Cloak & dagger, bill &_ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Fair & warmer, me &_ _ _</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">High & mighty, push &_ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Lea & Perrins, cock &_ _ _ _</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">One & only, pick &_ _ _ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Horse & buggy, P’s &_ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Come & get it, touch &_ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Up & at ‘em, yes &_ _</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Toil & trouble, ways &_ _ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Tar & feathers, pork &_ _ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Bread & butter, love &_ _ _ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Drunk & disorderly, Mr. &_ _ _</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Trial & error, heaven &_ _ _ _</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Death & taxes, hail &_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _</span><br /><br />Credit goes to Tom Carten, at the Things at King’s blog for posting the poem, which he in turns cites as being published in Reader’s Digest. So I must have first seen it in a waiting room somewhere!<br /> <br /><br /><br />To view more skies from all around our beautiful planet, or to join in, visit <a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com">SKYWATCH</a>. Live links after 2:30 p.m. EST time or 19:30 GMT. And thanks to the Skywatch team for this weekly meme.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-30443734572926636182009-11-18T09:19:00.005-05:002009-11-18T10:02:54.363-05:00LONGER BOATS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhptb008U1acSfe9issGDV7N6_Ds0MaX7LVpsRkGcEGCdM4FZ6Zouw2NZjfLLzdm3l08Ejr1htczY7WWtgOAXlw7vBCrD0nC9krWzJhjZAHVVnt4GTmAvB2cpk0aIEMC9tj-uQHQ6Ci4OZ0/s1600/1+crop+freighter+100_0025_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 261px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhptb008U1acSfe9issGDV7N6_Ds0MaX7LVpsRkGcEGCdM4FZ6Zouw2NZjfLLzdm3l08Ejr1htczY7WWtgOAXlw7vBCrD0nC9krWzJhjZAHVVnt4GTmAvB2cpk0aIEMC9tj-uQHQ6Ci4OZ0/s320/1+crop+freighter+100_0025_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405452354280614642" border="0" /></a><br />One of my favorite things about living beside of one of the Great Lakes is the glimpse I get from time to time of the freighters. I first fell in love with these elegant long carriers in my teens, when I was at a camp on the Michigan shore of Lake Huron, and the beauty and mystery of them has stayed with me. I haven't slept very well the last few nights, but the reward is in seeing the ships at night, one shining a light so bright it cast a faint glow on the darkened edge of my window. The other ship, further out on the lake, was lit at both ends and dotted along it's length, like one half of a set of brackets, lying on its back in the water. Perhaps a set of stars overhead formed the other bracket...but it was the middle of the night, and I was too hopeful of getting to sleep to explore the idea further. Now I wish I'd slipped a jacket on and gone out to see if my little camera zoom could pick up anything in the enveloping dark. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HqtdfRQMmZ-_yUlpiMFWyvkMQvgrE18U8oU_RM2OAWOO0LgWIfIlZylM4oIRu6y_mEfImjCozRChHyZxlGEZ4N0vqtYWoTYcF6jrT6GFJKH7IA-zMWyPrJfU5VV7Pi-kSwrIFLRQ467o/s1600/1+C+freighter+100_0004_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 327px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HqtdfRQMmZ-_yUlpiMFWyvkMQvgrE18U8oU_RM2OAWOO0LgWIfIlZylM4oIRu6y_mEfImjCozRChHyZxlGEZ4N0vqtYWoTYcF6jrT6GFJKH7IA-zMWyPrJfU5VV7Pi-kSwrIFLRQ467o/s400/1+C+freighter+100_0004_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405452073559479810" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Post title comes from the very enigmatic "Longer Boats" by Cat Stevens, on the album Tea for the Tillerman.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-81051028662450555982009-11-16T16:33:00.020-05:002009-11-17T11:00:30.176-05:00BOUND BY THE BEAUTY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDDJMYq1SUdNp4f_rzE5uulKr56-628fXsepkr24VzmPkoBu1h-C_Osz7vrXC4ZWJ1hhM1oW2IvIyrB6KrlSdQ7_BDF11GYC5W2dRyBAb9sk4FfHSx-C1TbOWw7DRFH7sAnTbn5VA3Pl_/s1600/horses,+after+the+big+rain.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdDDJMYq1SUdNp4f_rzE5uulKr56-628fXsepkr24VzmPkoBu1h-C_Osz7vrXC4ZWJ1hhM1oW2IvIyrB6KrlSdQ7_BDF11GYC5W2dRyBAb9sk4FfHSx-C1TbOWw7DRFH7sAnTbn5VA3Pl_/s320/horses,+after+the+big+rain.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405097715902910946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqGt0FXKdv77ARDD-1HF8TGAU6xuZg4WNENrtfKDUeu1EiVMVSa7QcMDnxyAq0nbxEJEc525rdNRCK0mLoquYGi2UOfI3iOkabUZRgPcwkrXu46WICcek6h_IbH4udBUX3xI_dcz8nZH_X/s1600/tornado+weather.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqGt0FXKdv77ARDD-1HF8TGAU6xuZg4WNENrtfKDUeu1EiVMVSa7QcMDnxyAq0nbxEJEc525rdNRCK0mLoquYGi2UOfI3iOkabUZRgPcwkrXu46WICcek6h_IbH4udBUX3xI_dcz8nZH_X/s320/tornado+weather.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405097311492646450" border="0" /></a>I haven't been participating in the poetry meme, One Single Impression, for a while, but I visit many blog friends who do, so I noticed that this week's prompt is "Reincarnation." As coincidence would have it, that's the subject of this post as well. I've been fortunate to live in some very incredible places in my life, always close to nature. The lyrics to Jane Siberry's song, "Bound by the Beauty" run through my head, when I think about all the beauty. I can't imagine what an afterlife would have to be like that I wouldn't still want to keep returning to the Earth. I wish that YouTube had a post of Siberry's song, or that I could embed an MP3 so you can listen to it, but you may have it on your iPod, or be able to access it through some service you belong to. I'll just put a link at the bottom, if you'd like a quick 30-second sample. This text of this post contains excerpts from the lyrics, mixed with photos from my current residence on Lake Erie's north shore, and my previous place in the Alberta foothills, west of Calgary.<br /><br /><br />I’m bound by the fire<br />I’m bound by the beauty<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJE38yzAdPbkuw100HS2aV_g9qMtZK0Y07iuetF-jBvyJeAKAwVqIgnUkw2aHVFplkkuyu8lVJcPKTLqQoS-Rh74jwcuqpbk2ev_wCT2e9vL5x0FI7yB01gqoKrw2XDWqhqOCO5gOFsRCl/s1600/deck+view,+spring+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJE38yzAdPbkuw100HS2aV_g9qMtZK0Y07iuetF-jBvyJeAKAwVqIgnUkw2aHVFplkkuyu8lVJcPKTLqQoS-Rh74jwcuqpbk2ev_wCT2e9vL5x0FI7yB01gqoKrw2XDWqhqOCO5gOFsRCl/s320/deck+view,+spring+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405095393879727346" border="0" /></a><br />I’m bound by desire<br />I’m bound by the duty<br />I’m coming back in 500 years<br />and the first thing I’m gonna do<br />when I get back here is to see<br />these things that I love<br />and they’d better be here, better be here, better be here<br /><br />First I’m going to find a forest<br />and stand there in the trees<br />and kiss the fragrant forest floor<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxF36UgDfRm_2AG6K0PliySlIBQMO0tS7n_m6H-bwAQ2QZ9EeZoEnNRnMQDy8NPd2VTZQuZioWpxGrW30AEgAvANLoLThSZABDocdpffRnRX5UEPlSiWRH_js63ZR1NxDnKrd9V9RpKPRT/s1600/Alberta+High+Country.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxF36UgDfRm_2AG6K0PliySlIBQMO0tS7n_m6H-bwAQ2QZ9EeZoEnNRnMQDy8NPd2VTZQuZioWpxGrW30AEgAvANLoLThSZABDocdpffRnRX5UEPlSiWRH_js63ZR1NxDnKrd9V9RpKPRT/s320/Alberta+High+Country.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405095062152106066" border="0" /></a><br />and lie down in the leave<br />and listen to the birds sing<br />the sweetest sound you’ll ever hear<br />and everything the dappled<br />everything the birds, everything the earthness<br />everything the verdant, the verdant, the verdant<br />the verdant green<br /><br /><br /><br />Then I’m going to find an open field<br />and lie down in the flowers<br />and then I’m going to find a guitar<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3F6HdBRGGdG5YQkkNHcQ_WiO9A13g7ZjviZBqpIqx8UA8TOd7dIO8HX_2zwnJdMrdzE6f0Gw-i0ZGeUS-N0kPgVBLcw2nRtFhf9BYlVQQyf8s7yIKRjLZDG6cNvJuh6Y9T_bnzgk7bca/s1600/1+crop+west+beach+100_0032.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 279px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3F6HdBRGGdG5YQkkNHcQ_WiO9A13g7ZjviZBqpIqx8UA8TOd7dIO8HX_2zwnJdMrdzE6f0Gw-i0ZGeUS-N0kPgVBLcw2nRtFhf9BYlVQQyf8s7yIKRjLZDG6cNvJuh6Y9T_bnzgk7bca/s320/1+crop+west+beach+100_0032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405094682332975026" border="0" /></a><br />and play play play for hours<br />and then I’m going to find a river<br />to see what kind of body in<br />and everything the granite, everything the kiss<br />everything the earthness<br />everything the verdant, the verdant, the verdant<br />the verdant dream<br /><br /><br />I’m bound by the beauty<br />I’m bound by desire<br />I’m bound to keep returning<br />I’m bound by the beauty of the light<br />the slightest change the constant rearrange of light upon the land<br />I’m bound by the beauty of the wind that blows across the earth<br />the unfetteredness the wheatness and through the flying hair<br />the slowness of the falling leaves across this warm November door<br />and the geese the flying southness the arms out evermore<br />I’m bound by the snow the soft fallingness<br />the everupward face...<br />the ever-upward face...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnLxLHyje1ZnRybSaanx9usV_zgLFTgGZtoc0yHvZZYfqPYQCoBNFrx7z52noJ11W2W1KdO8ISk_lQaP2Jrp7cyOLgMKBgvvjM5xDcdrBFTAnZBtO7_4P3PPEHPV3cptQoRL1nCjb39Sq/s1600/1+C+colors+100_0001+a+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOnLxLHyje1ZnRybSaanx9usV_zgLFTgGZtoc0yHvZZYfqPYQCoBNFrx7z52noJ11W2W1KdO8ISk_lQaP2Jrp7cyOLgMKBgvvjM5xDcdrBFTAnZBtO7_4P3PPEHPV3cptQoRL1nCjb39Sq/s320/1+C+colors+100_0001+a+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405094199219208322" border="0" /></a><br />bound by the sunsets the rivers the music the beauty...<br /><br /><br />Bound By The Beauty listening <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bound-Beauty-Jane-Siberry/dp/B000002LI4">LINK </a>Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-35773226486127025302009-11-12T12:55:00.008-05:002009-11-12T13:16:23.680-05:00SKYWATCH FRIDAY - Skipping Sun (Lake Erie)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPMH0n5rIqqFMx0M45fqtNO1ahpALZblvcnQGGPYXKjfFiFVoN-N6O7l_xc3h95vt-Ka_8SCZGoCWw8NDwIe2mezvlkDzSGAhZjVjNdsu_hl5wxz8QWgwrLE4RY88hfpkTQ04OOLgqLeKm/s1600-h/1+C+sun+skips+100_0010_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPMH0n5rIqqFMx0M45fqtNO1ahpALZblvcnQGGPYXKjfFiFVoN-N6O7l_xc3h95vt-Ka_8SCZGoCWw8NDwIe2mezvlkDzSGAhZjVjNdsu_hl5wxz8QWgwrLE4RY88hfpkTQ04OOLgqLeKm/s400/1+C+sun+skips+100_0010_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403280065507824290" border="0" /></a><br />On the post before last, I included a sunset with a flock of Canada geese drifting through. Someone mentioned it would be a good Skywatch post, but I thought today I'd show a slightly different shot of it. This is the sun's reflection just before the geese arrived. I like the way the differences in the water surface make it look almost like the sun is skipping across the water like a stone. The second shot was taken last night as I watched the ferry returning from Ohio pass slowly in front of the light, just as the sun slipped below the edge of the lake.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfSSre4wUjUYkkSg98YiHyqcwXaHCI6o0xjJvL_cV7UzLIsOYJRA4WXQXL4kADUni2RRsxI0jAa6sK3Yjw9DbizL1TWWILN9mRGYaGiWKuTCAYPghhk0g6P7RK_L15rTRVYfRLXIWRnEz/s1600-h/1+C+ferry+100_0017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfSSre4wUjUYkkSg98YiHyqcwXaHCI6o0xjJvL_cV7UzLIsOYJRA4WXQXL4kADUni2RRsxI0jAa6sK3Yjw9DbizL1TWWILN9mRGYaGiWKuTCAYPghhk0g6P7RK_L15rTRVYfRLXIWRnEz/s400/1+C+ferry+100_0017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403279904094994722" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />To view more skies from all around our beautiful planet, or to join in, visit <a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com">SKYWATCH</a>. Live links after 2:30 p.m. EST time or 19:30 GMT. And thanks to the Skywatch team for this weekly meme.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-72756772569839978442009-11-10T10:18:00.007-05:002009-11-12T13:43:07.114-05:00HAMBURGER GETS A HELPER BUT I HAVE TO MULTI-TASK EVERYTHING......with apologies to Fran Lebowitz for paraphrasing her in the post title. You may remember me referring once or twice over the spring and summer to a new book I was working on. Not the poetry one, that's still in the works - this is the second volume of rock and roll/pop culture trivia. The book has been out for a week or so, but I just got the final cut of the book trailer yesterday. And today the first responses to the press release are coming in, about a dozen before lunch! Whoot! I'm suddenly in a whirlwind of activity sending out review copies, booking radio interviews, and jotting down notes so I won't get nervous on air and sound like a total dork. That's a lot for my baby boomer/dyslexic brain to organize and keep track of (we really should have our own special parking sticker.) Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It's also a lot of fun and I'm looking forward to talking to a bunch of oldies DJs. But I may need to take some time away from blogging to get it all done. I miss everyone when I don't make my rounds, and I'll try to get back here for the next Skywatch. Meanwhile, here's the trailer. It's also posted on my sidebar, along with the one from the first music book and the cat/dog vids.<br /><br />My new book trailer:<br /><object height="265" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/riqWNuef3k4&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/riqWNuef3k4&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="265" width="320"></embed></object>Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-81126234816948981022009-11-09T00:36:00.013-05:002009-11-09T09:31:41.050-05:00NOVEMBER HOURS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTF88OuMHsg3i3LzRsj1PfRu8e2RuffBZcGtYh6cHlSXDv8Kb9xpDszULki6IejYk23FBL2eTdAYk4C_roJIKq4QlPKX0rpt5vgNKUjPLfsNjBcyQSsSsuehOHnZoqveqpt-NNzFRcTSw/s1600-h/1+C+window+100_0001_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTF88OuMHsg3i3LzRsj1PfRu8e2RuffBZcGtYh6cHlSXDv8Kb9xpDszULki6IejYk23FBL2eTdAYk4C_roJIKq4QlPKX0rpt5vgNKUjPLfsNjBcyQSsSsuehOHnZoqveqpt-NNzFRcTSw/s320/1+C+window+100_0001_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401978721603903858" border="0" /></a>In the four years I’ve lived here on the lake, this is the first autumn that the burning bush under my front window actually turned to flame. Last year a lack of rain caused the leaves to wither and drop early, and before that, temperatures dropped too quickly and steeply, and the green leaves seemed to turn brown over night. I guess each of the seasons is the same in general, but unique in detail. This fall, everything happened in the right amounts, the right sequence, and the colors of my bushes, in fact all the trees in the area really blazed forth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYjJQD4d6RRQWkpXbSVJ5ziBKY6qFPO8fo-JG3siBV0cpw5wnRaqu34tREYLY48qGOoOO3R6rp3MOiy8tHNSQ58waDDdR-K9WnrgYteuvxwg8Yq20WmZX7DTg_ahARAZomvWNZXnU8k65/s1600-h/1+C+sleeping+in+100_0008_6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYjJQD4d6RRQWkpXbSVJ5ziBKY6qFPO8fo-JG3siBV0cpw5wnRaqu34tREYLY48qGOoOO3R6rp3MOiy8tHNSQ58waDDdR-K9WnrgYteuvxwg8Yq20WmZX7DTg_ahARAZomvWNZXnU8k65/s320/1+C+sleeping+in+100_0008_6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401977593001241890" border="0" /></a><br />I took a walk around my house early yesterday, checking things out. The lake was perfectly still, and a couple of con trails above the thin line of Pelee Island on the horizon made a face in the sky that looked like the morning was sleeping in. After the recent strong winds, the red maples had really thinned out, and the lawn was once again littered with their large leathery brown leaves. As I walked towards the breakwall, one leaf on the ground stood out among the rest as being a much darker charcoal color. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the leathery foot and partial leg of a Canada goose. It seemed so shocking, lying there in the daylight. Who was it that carried that goose leg, perhaps from a kill it did not itself make, only to abandon it beneath my tree? What nameless, featureless second-hand predation went on when my friendly, bright yard was given over to the dark? Darkness comes early this time of year, and I’m quite happy to stay safely warm inside and let the snuffling wild creatures take their turn. This morning I walked out again, and the leg was gone. Nothing ever goes uninspected, unclaimed for long in nature. Such incidents probably happen around my yard all the time, and I never even know it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwfz2rF7o0nYgVOYPODdP_or2f-gZ3jpdZP4DWd-uhOXgsMvu_2_7i15EqPs-6pdklBRxzMU_f3HyTtMcheiM-jaFwUkufgAwkBB8ExdMkrEX_PnwnMEK6pfnU7mKMO5FwdjiMKLGLIab/s1600-h/1+C+geese+00_0016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwfz2rF7o0nYgVOYPODdP_or2f-gZ3jpdZP4DWd-uhOXgsMvu_2_7i15EqPs-6pdklBRxzMU_f3HyTtMcheiM-jaFwUkufgAwkBB8ExdMkrEX_PnwnMEK6pfnU7mKMO5FwdjiMKLGLIab/s400/1+C+geese+00_0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401980603832349010" border="0" /></a>At sundown, the geese gathered on the motionless lake, and sailed across the pillar of reflected light. Perhaps since was so still, they lingered out there where it's safe, waiting for the moon to rise.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-148200831281071252009-11-07T11:28:00.012-05:002009-11-07T11:47:36.773-05:00MOUSETRAP REDUNDANCY and OTHER FELINE MINUTIAE<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-CxzifEfJf_htxib3yR41FwDuFgKiHwKZhksq38B5kQ4Yp0i86D3xithkbDhHdAme5Xk9yjDd8CtTcp1QiM4x8W0KsLUESamy5BglvULShhGKe7b_3b5jdkysz0GNQ14dPZtRcAyG7dY/s1600-h/1+crop+group+nap+100_0002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS-CxzifEfJf_htxib3yR41FwDuFgKiHwKZhksq38B5kQ4Yp0i86D3xithkbDhHdAme5Xk9yjDd8CtTcp1QiM4x8W0KsLUESamy5BglvULShhGKe7b_3b5jdkysz0GNQ14dPZtRcAyG7dY/s400/1+crop+group+nap+100_0002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401402972627305458" /></a><br />You’d think with a love seat full of cats, I wouldn’t need to buy mousetraps, but not so. It’s true, any critter who ventured out into the house proper would definitely be up for a Darwin Award, but a couple of the kitchen cupboards are accessible from the back (like under the sink, where the pipes come up, and another with some mysterious wiring) with no exit into the room. A couple of winters ago, I trapped what turned out to be a vole under the sink. So when I saw Pearl sitting, staring, frozen in place in front of the stove the other morning, my first<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHzpwG-3KftxRust9mcTX0wc-bomDmxj_XuAG253-fLUF9w4nY37XVROuel2vU2nfKUjP5TUm8fnbSCFu1WznpfxGevTthjutOLmIywIF0r_R2uaDzfBLWVr1Kn0NjI42ERDJAxKoDbRa/s1600-h/1+crop+mts+100_0012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHzpwG-3KftxRust9mcTX0wc-bomDmxj_XuAG253-fLUF9w4nY37XVROuel2vU2nfKUjP5TUm8fnbSCFu1WznpfxGevTthjutOLmIywIF0r_R2uaDzfBLWVr1Kn0NjI42ERDJAxKoDbRa/s200/1+crop+mts+100_0012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401402267418213170" border="0" /></a> thought was “They’re baaaaack.” So I picked up more traps. I got the cheap ones that are a little trickier to bait. Apparently, someone <span style="font-style:italic;">has</span> invented a “better mousetrap” that is easier to bait, but it’s also a lot more expensive. I don’t like the idea of kill trapping all that much. If the store had stocked live traps, I probably would have paid the extra for those. But without the choice, I got what the ones you see here. I simply won’t share space with mice and their ilk.<br /><br />I left two traps tucked away in two likely spots for two days, but caught nary a thing. That’s the good news, really; the fortress holds. So Pearl’s “false-positive” must be attributed to her being in one of those intense mental spaces that cats go to where we humans can never follow. Anyone who has ever been on staff for a cat knows what I mean.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfsUB8Z9T2V09X1zGX8QV75wO5E0McggZUIYXbOGSS7U1u8nFDyiZstazCDLFBOYkAFf7b07xRdnz2xwUC-yIY8YJltX8H3gyVQjHsF_YK-FchiEZ7Pq02Bsrnf1x8iY5sCKFy2indvCS/s1600-h/1+crop++Pearl%27s+eyes+100_0013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfsUB8Z9T2V09X1zGX8QV75wO5E0McggZUIYXbOGSS7U1u8nFDyiZstazCDLFBOYkAFf7b07xRdnz2xwUC-yIY8YJltX8H3gyVQjHsF_YK-FchiEZ7Pq02Bsrnf1x8iY5sCKFy2indvCS/s320/1+crop++Pearl%27s+eyes+100_0013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401400789650135266" border="0" /></a><br />One more thing about Pearl. Her mother (also pure white) had two different color eyes. When Pearl was born, I wondered if she would, too, but she didn’t inherit that trait. However, one thing I have noticed is that her eyes don’t glow the same color in a photo. Here’s a photo of her up close, with what I call her "Christmas eyes," one glows red and the other green. Very strange, don't you think?.<br /><br />And while we’re on the subject of weird things about cats, why is it that when cats clean their faces and bend an ear back, they just keep on like nothing’s amiss? Sweeney does that all the time, and it drives me crazy. I say to her, “Eeeu! Can’t you <span style="font-style:italic;">feel</span> that? Give your head a shake; it looks awful! Don’t <span style="font-style:italic;">make</span> me come over there again to flip it back, I just got comfortable on the couch, and CSI Miami is starting…” (no response) So of course, I do.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rkBdSvknEleU-JNY990VUFH37oaGGkOGuGBVZNVLImdyDKBz_7RzkyCtziC1atXJQBCeZk2vveRbj2Qr49I6eKJeqChe0tooyWf8VEskUgveeZ6U5jO0C5umAnkY4j9x3Xbf1JFtNAcW/s1600-h/1+C+fix+your+ear+100_0022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rkBdSvknEleU-JNY990VUFH37oaGGkOGuGBVZNVLImdyDKBz_7RzkyCtziC1atXJQBCeZk2vveRbj2Qr49I6eKJeqChe0tooyWf8VEskUgveeZ6U5jO0C5umAnkY4j9x3Xbf1JFtNAcW/s200/1+C+fix+your+ear+100_0022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401399845305328594" border="0" /></a>Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-38571477709693559252009-11-05T13:08:00.013-05:002009-11-05T13:35:48.066-05:00SKYWATCH FRIDAY - Wind and Water (Lake Erie)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZAxAoZiSN1ycyDMlFASTdm3PqJjjm75fkmbEelhxZcS5mUrQiAZ1RTcJy7uWgDr6aLNQQ8Ny4dnu8QJp-mCpF7Y3lLK40sCOTQiPZE_GyrVk_7XIb3dstOdmPAHYHZYDkXfi961U9HMR/s1600-h/1+C+spray+100_0001+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZAxAoZiSN1ycyDMlFASTdm3PqJjjm75fkmbEelhxZcS5mUrQiAZ1RTcJy7uWgDr6aLNQQ8Ny4dnu8QJp-mCpF7Y3lLK40sCOTQiPZE_GyrVk_7XIb3dstOdmPAHYHZYDkXfi961U9HMR/s400/1+C+spray+100_0001+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400685641873374146" border="0" /></a>High winds whipped up the water all afternoon, and splashed spray up to the sky, as if trying to douse the sun’s fire. At day's end, the molten ball won out, and the waves roared in their defeat all night in the dark.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3EpPBDdx-4776H-4SxZPN6QtQUOKXmzIpWmdwIRDDWnJR-Ln7KPxheRXqU6-fQDscAG7OEgngP1tOb3x_bY-mKTo1c6lpDeEwn381omuYSy2vx4UfR-brUTkV7UgoJtFcjDLZpcd3KuI/s1600-h/1+C+wild+night+100_0008_4+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3EpPBDdx-4776H-4SxZPN6QtQUOKXmzIpWmdwIRDDWnJR-Ln7KPxheRXqU6-fQDscAG7OEgngP1tOb3x_bY-mKTo1c6lpDeEwn381omuYSy2vx4UfR-brUTkV7UgoJtFcjDLZpcd3KuI/s400/1+C+wild+night+100_0008_4+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400684865643097714" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcghyv6e4SfRR6ki5RTiEci9TFqJtrRlBooEjulezMar-GJW2pV2HoC8Ped9rAbkkO4wwps4SbWQY0deqekHLa76wh9a9z6MkdMPXPMcbIXS7OT6GuaYwRXjkeBEKOzylP_uZxpzSml-D/s1600-h/symbol.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcghyv6e4SfRR6ki5RTiEci9TFqJtrRlBooEjulezMar-GJW2pV2HoC8Ped9rAbkkO4wwps4SbWQY0deqekHLa76wh9a9z6MkdMPXPMcbIXS7OT6GuaYwRXjkeBEKOzylP_uZxpzSml-D/s200/symbol.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400689137224218674" border="0" /></a><br />Feng (wind) Shui (water)<br /><br /><br />To view more skies from all around our beautiful planet, or to join in, visit <a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com/">SKYWATCH</a>. Live links after 2:30 p.m. EST time or 19:30 GMT. And thanks to the Skywatch team for the weekly meme.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-277911986287896222009-11-02T11:02:00.005-05:002009-11-02T11:18:19.885-05:00THE CONSTANCY of CHANGE<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRa9s1j-idCbyzIqKoa_n0CBBQrDHVlQ2JI3gQgdNVAkQdK8QgkH_6drgl0pp0TOzhvt18dHQhjzMiVFM0cYtL01WCM2lXCPCLfygVj0PBITjVmX7FH56lAhmXTo1n0SdISpKAhvMU1mrI/s1600-h/1C+spruce+100_0013_3+%28600+x+800%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRa9s1j-idCbyzIqKoa_n0CBBQrDHVlQ2JI3gQgdNVAkQdK8QgkH_6drgl0pp0TOzhvt18dHQhjzMiVFM0cYtL01WCM2lXCPCLfygVj0PBITjVmX7FH56lAhmXTo1n0SdISpKAhvMU1mrI/s320/1C+spruce+100_0013_3+%28600+x+800%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399538259631073602" border="0" /></a><br />I’m sure I’m not the only one in the north who feels this way, but at this time of the year, I’m more acutely aware of change. Perhaps it’s because much of the change involves the leaving of things whose stay seems all too brief—the songbirds and buds of spring, the blossoms and fireflies of high summer, the fruits and colors of autumn. But winter brings other birds to the feeders, unveils intricate patterns in bare branches against the somber sky, gives different vistas of the lake.<br /><br />There have been some changes at my place. My next-door neighbors came for a few days to check on things before winter. For the forty-plus years they’ve owned it, it’s served as a cottage; they live elsewhere. Now in their late 80s, they’ve decided they’ll soon be putting it up for sale. They don’t come often, usually spend only about six days a year, so it makes sense. But one thing that didn’t make sense was why, on their recent visit, the husband went out with his pruning saw and cut down the beautiful old lilac bush that stood between our houses. He started with the suckers, but didn’t stop until he had cut the entire thing down to a series of ugly stumps. Now, to be fair, I have to say that although it straddled the property line, it was his bush, his <span style="font-style:italic;">tree</span>, really—it was nearly up to the eaves on my house, and had wonderful gnarled and twisted trunks. In summer it bloomed in deep purple and a shoot one white on one side. He said he planted it over thirty years ago. What possessed him to cut it like that I’ll never know, and I was too upset to ask. I was afraid I’d only sputter my anger out, and what would be the point of that. Perhaps he felt the need to revisit his younger days when, according to his wife, he was quite the gardener. I clung to that thought, that in some nostalgic way, it pleased him to cut the tree down to the ground; it was the only way I could forgive him for the act. Once he’s finished, he observed, “It’ll come back.” There’s a weak chance that, given enough time and care, it might, but he certainly won't live to see it, and likely, neither will I if it took almost forty years to grow it the first time. And it made even less sense since they’re going to be putting the place up for sale. There’s no curb appeal to stumps.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOvgNJ0Vv8bYKj5QXE_Ahlf6lI0t1urrP-crr88kVXtT7Iq7Iv6N2X0no9BOI23QmHNZduZfOi-Z01JuiWSTsXR5koAp7BvlkHykgk23ffWEi-Y5bE9WfgOwYQic6zS6A1p-DY3lKeSD0f/s1600-h/1C+Don+F.+100_0017_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOvgNJ0Vv8bYKj5QXE_Ahlf6lI0t1urrP-crr88kVXtT7Iq7Iv6N2X0no9BOI23QmHNZduZfOi-Z01JuiWSTsXR5koAp7BvlkHykgk23ffWEi-Y5bE9WfgOwYQic6zS6A1p-DY3lKeSD0f/s320/1C+Don+F.+100_0017_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399537528217248338" border="0" /></a>After thinking about this a while, I called them at their home and asked permission to remove the stumps and plant something in it’s place…now there is a nice little Colorado blue spruce standing where the lilacs once bloomed. I’ll still miss the lilac, especially this winter. It was where I hung my birdfeeders, and attracted lots of winter birds that felt safe feeding in the shelter of the mass of twigs. I posted photos and blogged about it a lot last year. Perhaps after a couple of seasons the spruce will be strong enough to support a feeder, but for now, it must simply grow. <br /><br />After the new tree was all planted I walked along the breakwall, and looked for a familiar rock that always amuses me. It’s not a rock actually, but a chunk of an old sidewalk that someone named Don F (or maybe Don P, it’s hard to make out) wrote his name in. There’s also the number 15. Could he have stood over the setting cement as long ago as 1915? More likely it was 15th day of some month, decades ago. Whatever the story is, a new sidewalk has doubtless been poured, and the old one now adds strength to the divide between my yard and Lake Erie. And Don, wherever he may be, probably never wonders what happened to it. I’m the custodian of it now, just as I am of the little spruce. And perhaps I’ll be moving along one day, too. Change.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-80373327077175926482009-11-01T07:48:00.007-05:002009-11-01T08:16:03.924-05:00TRANSITIONS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEpmzPAOjYeVsorUf47KP6svSSakJHqDCDUdzNQazgqVKFwED-MgGFMtTjuiAl2UqpPg943PN6BmtukZaYmMYek3j_5lEfgWO7edRY2TmwcY9i4m2Grofje_TMMtYG-05PlOPUogTNLEL/s1600-h/1+C+crows+100_0016_2+(800+x+600).jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEpmzPAOjYeVsorUf47KP6svSSakJHqDCDUdzNQazgqVKFwED-MgGFMtTjuiAl2UqpPg943PN6BmtukZaYmMYek3j_5lEfgWO7edRY2TmwcY9i4m2Grofje_TMMtYG-05PlOPUogTNLEL/s320/1+C+crows+100_0016_2+(800+x+600).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399120957571948338" /></a><br />October on Lake Erie’s north shore brings alternating stretches of bright days and dull days. Through it all, the creatures in the area gather together; each for their own reasons. Last week, huge murders of crows filled the skies over my house. I’ll miss them and their loud raucus calls that rang all summer long over the fields.<br /><br />Another congregation we saw was the annual arrival of clusters (official term for ladybugs) of Asian ladybugs. They came in their largest number a while ago, covering the breakwall parapet and the rocks in the garden. I missed getting a photo of them but even at their most abundant, we didn’t get them like they can in some parts of the continent, like in this video of a town in Colorado. It has to be seen to be believed! <br /><object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xcSAy3_1CZM&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xcSAy3_1CZM&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object><br /><br />I tried to find information on why the beetles do this. Consensus is that they’re looking for a place to ball up to hibernate for winter. Some people said suggested it was perhaps a ginormous autumnal love-in. I tend to think it’s the former, but I suppose romance can’t be entirely ruled out. Does anyone know?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaR_FA0c4GAyqRoobYNryKs0LBdJjzybQwZQ4_ckKW0-n4maRTqf5FqLLqeBldSRWaiu-nlXliWcRS3AMCJxyNY7zGUrQWetZAMeDPz85rjypFMEug3oUZuRYqJ_jJw1C0cHCvyDibiLYt/s1600-h/1+crop+one+gull+100_0008_5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaR_FA0c4GAyqRoobYNryKs0LBdJjzybQwZQ4_ckKW0-n4maRTqf5FqLLqeBldSRWaiu-nlXliWcRS3AMCJxyNY7zGUrQWetZAMeDPz85rjypFMEug3oUZuRYqJ_jJw1C0cHCvyDibiLYt/s320/1+crop+one+gull+100_0008_5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399118164104577186" border="0" /></a><br />Then there are the critters that don’t truly migrate, like this noisy solitary gull, perched on the groyne rocks at tiny Mersea Beach. He’ll stick around until the lake freezes up, forcing him and his brethren to move on to find open water. So everyone has a plan.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKo9B0lxVNmOwFmdVrcYBzFToLw6OfgF9P9MPU_RihZR3jKwo3hGvvwHM25ABPoS_zuMF9IiZLQD2It7E52UskJzhqzsEe41MS_3yHijd9ORlECZEZHJj7IcImlgMvTfcZrTXBWdBCxM2G/s1600-h/1+C+leaves+crossing+the+road+100_0012_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKo9B0lxVNmOwFmdVrcYBzFToLw6OfgF9P9MPU_RihZR3jKwo3hGvvwHM25ABPoS_zuMF9IiZLQD2It7E52UskJzhqzsEe41MS_3yHijd9ORlECZEZHJj7IcImlgMvTfcZrTXBWdBCxM2G/s320/1+C+leaves+crossing+the+road+100_0012_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399118420362699714" border="0" /></a><br />Even the fallen leaves are restless, crossing the road near my house as if they, too had purpose on the other side. All must hurry (including me) to finish up their autumn business as the days advance, the clocks retreat. <br /><br />And now it is November.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-61617326313360599842009-10-29T09:03:00.009-04:002009-10-29T14:59:14.953-04:00SKYWATCH FRIDAY - Indian Summer Skies Over Point Pelee<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7pikd9snv-A8X6NUTvVAHG-v7m_uahrum_KQLziDCSd8YnsgALIAaItfagnxCyPsj1UTPzduhxKootSwdGbLRGkDezQ44B7XTu0_UpbknJ-nKQkwVVM-hMDLyEXzhJOLmUmXz7lfeWPLQ/s1600-h/1+C+pelee+tip+100_0013_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7pikd9snv-A8X6NUTvVAHG-v7m_uahrum_KQLziDCSd8YnsgALIAaItfagnxCyPsj1UTPzduhxKootSwdGbLRGkDezQ44B7XTu0_UpbknJ-nKQkwVVM-hMDLyEXzhJOLmUmXz7lfeWPLQ/s400/1+C+pelee+tip+100_0013_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398009412118859506" border="0" /></a><br />After my drive to the Point Pelee Tip got rained out (previous post) the weather shifted, and it got warmer and sunnier. So my neighbor and I took her two corgis on their tandem leash (is there anything cuter than fluffy little corgi bums scampering along side by side?) and headed to the Tip. Here are two views of the very southernmost land of Canada, one looking out into Lake Erie, and the other with my back to the lake, showing the divided water. And of course, a photo of Katie and Lizzie in their glory!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8vp6sWm-HPnCcuKNA4dYu3xXYnUkIx7nD-EFyZtmGanOm8QkWaOrYQZ2IYO6OOyu3PD2v9lmu4tFUY9DjgEDYDwHbpfjJ0fCn6aqxvPjxcNrgExIpxOjaX3oHVI9zXUKJxthC4S_Op1m/s1600-h/1+C+pelee+tip+100_0016_2+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL8vp6sWm-HPnCcuKNA4dYu3xXYnUkIx7nD-EFyZtmGanOm8QkWaOrYQZ2IYO6OOyu3PD2v9lmu4tFUY9DjgEDYDwHbpfjJ0fCn6aqxvPjxcNrgExIpxOjaX3oHVI9zXUKJxthC4S_Op1m/s400/1+C+pelee+tip+100_0016_2+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398009177092334706" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlGXa2W9UVrzXgERxIKeIowgPfbGgX0ob-F2KxhRoZjn44m6ZDuM74eKX-FYLbr2SnoYMA8cY4EjOY-h4so7ATIJX__E3nYwZJdjg04sKOJzh_n6nwKTXbfqgE6LuqI4-136eR0HBK8Lh/s1600-h/1+C+fun+100_0017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlGXa2W9UVrzXgERxIKeIowgPfbGgX0ob-F2KxhRoZjn44m6ZDuM74eKX-FYLbr2SnoYMA8cY4EjOY-h4so7ATIJX__E3nYwZJdjg04sKOJzh_n6nwKTXbfqgE6LuqI4-136eR0HBK8Lh/s320/1+C+fun+100_0017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398008895392277586" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />To view more skies from all around our beautiful planet, or to join in, visit <a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com">SKYWATCH</a>. Live links after 2:30 p.m. EST time or 19:30 GMT. And thanks to the Skywatch team for the weekly meme.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-46597616459284867232009-10-24T09:18:00.010-04:002009-10-24T09:43:51.136-04:00POINT PELEE in OCTOBEREven though the day kind of chilly and glum, and it was 'spitting' yesterday, I decided to drive over to Point Pelee to see what was up. By the time I got to the Tip parking lot (they let cars drive all the way out in the off-season) it was raining in earnest, so I didn't get out and walk the rest of the way to see what shape the southern-most point of the country was in. But here's what else I found:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9v4vvNqBN_iycyeRNQUdsOWYPoK3cD5TmztAzddUprPzXkRqPNHpem98D8mr4xRqZVBDqul2Gz3dKUrA-LFNbwyDAtNls0t_6OyEyDhQAteQEVdCpjfh232tQ9wocDAN0FUeel49sPve/s1600-h/1+crop+pelee+100_0006_3+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9v4vvNqBN_iycyeRNQUdsOWYPoK3cD5TmztAzddUprPzXkRqPNHpem98D8mr4xRqZVBDqul2Gz3dKUrA-LFNbwyDAtNls0t_6OyEyDhQAteQEVdCpjfh232tQ9wocDAN0FUeel49sPve/s320/1+crop+pelee+100_0006_3+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396160728228839298" border="0" /></a><br />All the color is in the trees and bushes; nothing in the sky or the water!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMYCZ_J3MeSt1sqxRDmUKp6mmUbDYiKKzTveWoqbj2BcdNEEfAjJdQlrHHEUWiDf2wGOqUDupVDHK4Feyf11693SZY2xRbS0xoS2yKdFOj-7IGsGIqi0gQDYdJbRixR10fMtsG3FCmqGG/s1600-h/1+crop+cold+turkeys+100_0005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZMYCZ_J3MeSt1sqxRDmUKp6mmUbDYiKKzTveWoqbj2BcdNEEfAjJdQlrHHEUWiDf2wGOqUDupVDHK4Feyf11693SZY2xRbS0xoS2yKdFOj-7IGsGIqi0gQDYdJbRixR10fMtsG3FCmqGG/s320/1+crop+cold+turkeys+100_0005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396160197720942786" border="0" /></a><br />If you ever decide to do anything 'cold turkey' this is what it will look like. If you do anything 'wet turkey' this is it, too.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl3tlQv5mVTSvpttPk6jZiWzMryf2wSPbGxfnn7LHFy4cupSY7SqXomW_xcpCRaBdF17LUV328gXxLHCIJccJ90O_EZTjQ7bEDpmbko6VFOamJS1OWU7Gudy0vRViIR0TE_dMD8XMP7eGg/s1600-h/1+crop+pelee+oct.+100_0009_3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl3tlQv5mVTSvpttPk6jZiWzMryf2wSPbGxfnn7LHFy4cupSY7SqXomW_xcpCRaBdF17LUV328gXxLHCIJccJ90O_EZTjQ7bEDpmbko6VFOamJS1OWU7Gudy0vRViIR0TE_dMD8XMP7eGg/s320/1+crop+pelee+oct.+100_0009_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396159883163128946" border="0" /></a><br />You can have the boardwalk at the marsh all to yourself.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All the cottages in The Narrows (road leading into the Park gate) are closed up tight for winter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHioQLtWdIJhBQrJFW4xm8PUP8DkBCTReuPCpvNK-VtgE-63ULJjktWAkqTzEb0ZhfG6fDSO6q1vMehjr-822LsdYk2xVmOgiI2vviNY9Ui_d72-Y4AkzijbS7DhV0nvqvfnvBA0F-KU-W/s1600-h/1+crop+cabin+100_0011_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 156px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHioQLtWdIJhBQrJFW4xm8PUP8DkBCTReuPCpvNK-VtgE-63ULJjktWAkqTzEb0ZhfG6fDSO6q1vMehjr-822LsdYk2xVmOgiI2vviNY9Ui_d72-Y4AkzijbS7DhV0nvqvfnvBA0F-KU-W/s200/1+crop+cabin+100_0011_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396159423834297954" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90yeuItzqXSqO8W3Xe5r76Oi95lWY7G2fU8wsQMojoq-RVh20cXhpa17fo8fH6RLyX2F-v-5RWP1ZqdcKDg4TnMLIoqsixQvj8zi78v94D7agg_mcb_AZcR3ia1_gkLDxlFp65ikaSJ-N/s1600-h/1+crop+narrows+100_0010_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 183px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90yeuItzqXSqO8W3Xe5r76Oi95lWY7G2fU8wsQMojoq-RVh20cXhpa17fo8fH6RLyX2F-v-5RWP1ZqdcKDg4TnMLIoqsixQvj8zi78v94D7agg_mcb_AZcR3ia1_gkLDxlFp65ikaSJ-N/s200/1+crop+narrows+100_0010_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396159229584363666" border="0" /></a>Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-47170475174161202992009-10-22T10:18:00.007-04:002009-10-22T11:17:16.355-04:00SKYWATCH FRIDAY - The Moving Finger Writes; and Having Writ, Moves On (Lake Erie)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFHmirqzZpU7LKnhRr5KSpBaXDY9laIxiisWgVsLYKEKMizRp_xeNcV3wBZVkqykoBto-wK_X5rqf-zCMZKCOPX_Od2E_MgFyHgFJ532u6dSAlMctzN7LuCk5HrMjcu9jWWS7EdtXD1Fy/s1600-h/1+crop+Z+100_0035.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 363px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhFHmirqzZpU7LKnhRr5KSpBaXDY9laIxiisWgVsLYKEKMizRp_xeNcV3wBZVkqykoBto-wK_X5rqf-zCMZKCOPX_Od2E_MgFyHgFJ532u6dSAlMctzN7LuCk5HrMjcu9jWWS7EdtXD1Fy/s400/1+crop+Z+100_0035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395433396550220370" border="0" /></a><br />What to make of this giant Z in the sky? The mark of Zorro? Does anyone else remember a masked and dashing Guy Williams deftly etching his monogram on Sergeant Garcia’s ample uniformed girth with a few swift slashes of his sword? Or perhaps the sky is admonishing us to be silent, to forever keep our peace? It’s a mystery worthy of Omar Khayyam himself.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimug0V4wGRpN8oefIhHv4mE29SmHw81g7MmjSWtW2fBZi2An64H0sw0XWqN4MTwvsvKw8PxMWdL4lAJ69hfWpjBhYcPwFnn6yc62c_g_j3lhpzGMga3aN3SwqEVePXIO1u_HrYJuLb3Ds_/s1600-h/Omar+Khayyam.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimug0V4wGRpN8oefIhHv4mE29SmHw81g7MmjSWtW2fBZi2An64H0sw0XWqN4MTwvsvKw8PxMWdL4lAJ69hfWpjBhYcPwFnn6yc62c_g_j3lhpzGMga3aN3SwqEVePXIO1u_HrYJuLb3Ds_/s320/Omar+Khayyam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395433223236699202" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This drawing, by Edmund J. Sullivan, was scanned from my own copy of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, which sat on the family bookshelf in my childhood home. However, it isn't the illustration paired with the verse I quoted in the post title (Verse LI, made famous by Edward Fitzgerald's translation). The illustration I chose is actually from Verse L.<br /><br />To view more skies from all around our beautiful planet, or to join in, visit <a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com">SKYWATCH</a>. Live links after 2:30 p.m. EST time or 19:30 GMTDeborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-16521856361819765042009-10-20T11:08:00.006-04:002009-10-20T11:30:25.482-04:00ON WARBLERS and FINCHES<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MmPzDpEaZd4Yb9psJIf9sG4rPhGwE5mnZYC5CyiqqRsZtTPeRYiZWE04LqQAfWW_UgXsuZY7PhxikD1R7-iBGSEGSyIjJMyv4NCWtKWnBhlSm8Sk6h96_ttMtq-2uUYdwLpgRNmVK1Cj/s1600-h/1+crop+warbler+100_0041.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8MmPzDpEaZd4Yb9psJIf9sG4rPhGwE5mnZYC5CyiqqRsZtTPeRYiZWE04LqQAfWW_UgXsuZY7PhxikD1R7-iBGSEGSyIjJMyv4NCWtKWnBhlSm8Sk6h96_ttMtq-2uUYdwLpgRNmVK1Cj/s320/1+crop+warbler+100_0041.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394700347232575346" /></a><br />A few days ago I bundled up against the wind and stepped out into my back yard to watch another large flock of migrating birds go by—double-crested cormorants this time. As I rounded the corner of the porch, my heart sank to see a tiny bird lying at the foot of the window. I leaned over its body to see if perhaps it was just temporarily stunned, but even as I bent down, something in it’s posture told me there was no life there. I’m always sad when any bird dies from hitting my windows, even a sparrow or a starling, but this little one was darkly beautiful in deep midnight colors studded with moon-bright patches of white—a male black-throated blue warbler—and those are much less plentiful than the common brown birds of my yard. Each one is precious to the overall population. I scooped him up in my hand, turned to the window, found the place where he'd hit. The window reflection itself was dulled from the wind-carried Erie spray, and covered with a screen on top of that: there was nothing that could have been done to prevent his fatal misperception. But it’s still a sad event. He was an adult male, not a juvenile, so he likely had offspring this year. But there are so many perils waiting for nestlings so small, with parents so defenseless. Predators, diseases and bad weather can all take their toll. And for wood warblers, nest parasitism by brown-headed cowbirds is always a threat. I wondered what had befallen this little fellow’s family.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArNj08Jg_k6lGaxFxglXda7sKNMLIa7_w_2sXaYE7D43CB8cIQxtyMSUBq3ChA-uwknqWE4PObREpmVr4XvFziDFXqRxCKtZnO9yUma3_hNPJEl2SbfdqFmy_s4utTpWdRl2oDcN1DtTt/s1600-h/1+crop+warbler+and+buddha+100_0042.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArNj08Jg_k6lGaxFxglXda7sKNMLIa7_w_2sXaYE7D43CB8cIQxtyMSUBq3ChA-uwknqWE4PObREpmVr4XvFziDFXqRxCKtZnO9yUma3_hNPJEl2SbfdqFmy_s4utTpWdRl2oDcN1DtTt/s320/1+crop+warbler+and+buddha+100_0042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394700136305292386" border="0" /></a><br />Back inside, in the coffee-scented warmth of my house, I couldn’t shake thoughts of the little warbler's life and death. It reminded me of Darwin’s finches. I’ve always loved it that those unspectacular little birds were the ‘Eureka’ moment for him, showing him how each generation sends forth its genes into the unknown, and shapes the descendants in that future by their ability to adapt. What of my little black-throat outside, now lying in the hand of the garden Buddha? Was his inability to judge as false the world he saw in the streaky, screen-shadowed window truly non-adaptive? Or was it more likely an unaccountable accident of fate, no different from a squirrel randomly stumbling upon a nest full of piping babies? I wonder if these mysteries ever troubled Darwin. Whatever the answer may be, I was sorry for one migration and life that came to such an abrupt end in my yard. I hope his beautiful genes survive him out there somewhere.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-38485378940519898302009-10-18T09:47:00.012-04:002009-10-18T10:17:49.517-04:00THE CAT CORPS EAR SIGNAL MANUAL--for Pet Pride<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgE9lE2EwStcPgs2wkt1JzmpTpqO0Ihtd4OetRBM7UGVVsdfllUVZM_LojbRIMrOw3wX1UBHKshSuu5k4lzMOtiYquZyqN_yJS39OUKREdUZI5iC6m1RddGK55P36H6OBwGtF09qVjQQD/s1600-h/1+crop+elliott+snoozing+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikgE9lE2EwStcPgs2wkt1JzmpTpqO0Ihtd4OetRBM7UGVVsdfllUVZM_LojbRIMrOw3wX1UBHKshSuu5k4lzMOtiYquZyqN_yJS39OUKREdUZI5iC6m1RddGK55P36H6OBwGtF09qVjQQD/s200/1+crop+elliott+snoozing+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393940460400923362" border="0" /></a><br />Elliott: At ease<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5F_g9XbyqpiWZHLXmjTMP6avgYS0vjS787VezMmlxBYKcLGHfUqk70pfhFdkB9CQ6kDaNd0h0Xwg6236AE7nMtrK8zNJ7MWS-MNhsBOs4upJ1o0nquB4lUVG8leRLqj1TEbHLda3xxt01/s1600-h/1+crop+Pearl+ear++100_0027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 185px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5F_g9XbyqpiWZHLXmjTMP6avgYS0vjS787VezMmlxBYKcLGHfUqk70pfhFdkB9CQ6kDaNd0h0Xwg6236AE7nMtrK8zNJ7MWS-MNhsBOs4upJ1o0nquB4lUVG8leRLqj1TEbHLda3xxt01/s200/1+crop+Pearl+ear++100_0027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393939981198424386" border="0" /></a><br />Pearl: Caution, Solar-powered nap in progress<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjoH7byC_bVF4gpQEmihxBsI9YjP5DxfRM3RI9hN7KTE0umYaq3MLUWmLxq0pLaEtASZfvTzKGzGnk7DVoVCL3WiwlOurZgkOOMf5d6GRWByskWNIFTLaRNifyI2UlPh-QK7uUZ4V1zp3X/s1600-h/1+crop++pearl%27s+tattoo+111_1158.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 142px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjoH7byC_bVF4gpQEmihxBsI9YjP5DxfRM3RI9hN7KTE0umYaq3MLUWmLxq0pLaEtASZfvTzKGzGnk7DVoVCL3WiwlOurZgkOOMf5d6GRWByskWNIFTLaRNifyI2UlPh-QK7uUZ4V1zp3X/s200/1+crop++pearl%27s+tattoo+111_1158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393939612541087442" border="0" /></a><br />Pearl: Right ear ID tattoo. What, you think I’m gonna wear <span style="font-style: italic;">dog </span>tags?? I don’t think so!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxxIsqCTB3wmQAcr2kY0qGuzULDg93ZnPpKcbyzieIGUbO7ByrSUllLe6mKxklmmKaIE7uoBOfm1cIOnLmQ77h2ThT93_be9Yd0nwziwU7DyWTxx6qGpQhmXhTrF-Tij-HkJPN0WiQkH2x/s1600-h/1+crop+sweeney+ear++108_0861.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxxIsqCTB3wmQAcr2kY0qGuzULDg93ZnPpKcbyzieIGUbO7ByrSUllLe6mKxklmmKaIE7uoBOfm1cIOnLmQ77h2ThT93_be9Yd0nwziwU7DyWTxx6qGpQhmXhTrF-Tij-HkJPN0WiQkH2x/s200/1+crop+sweeney+ear++108_0861.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393942571994749922" border="0" /></a>Sweeney: Strange night noise detector with infra-red is ON<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZVGbAFl_H8HfIj749Lv-3byz84amCM5_uC5jg-oVWD3wfI0nvrhVCBeiZ1qGSVoOZpUKqxOKkIdlLFvJSt6yNw3IuL18nUm7WbiJNb7FJrFGen8olsN7554a4ST7CTD844jXuLSi9Q88/s1600-h/1+crop+flash+in+the+sun+100_0005.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 105px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZVGbAFl_H8HfIj749Lv-3byz84amCM5_uC5jg-oVWD3wfI0nvrhVCBeiZ1qGSVoOZpUKqxOKkIdlLFvJSt6yNw3IuL18nUm7WbiJNb7FJrFGen8olsN7554a4ST7CTD844jXuLSi9Q88/s200/1+crop+flash+in+the+sun+100_0005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393938821206813778" border="0" /></a><br />Flash: Double Full Alert. Can opener at 12 o’clock; target 20 feet and closing (shown with low-light goggles)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpzITsVhJmib3it9RAWAWVe_sBo22L7dXcbSedE3jN2-D2-BPHCcYPxn1UyQ4anDym7HvchOlmsCXS8FsI2-gyAChvwjZNwoOH4hdHxMAJOowNyePUhK0QmLRq5qfZSypkyoNDur4EsS5/s1600-h/1+crop+flash+ears+101_0112.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 102px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLpzITsVhJmib3it9RAWAWVe_sBo22L7dXcbSedE3jN2-D2-BPHCcYPxn1UyQ4anDym7HvchOlmsCXS8FsI2-gyAChvwjZNwoOH4hdHxMAJOowNyePUhK0QmLRq5qfZSypkyoNDur4EsS5/s200/1+crop+flash+ears+101_0112.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393939168661410578" border="0" /></a>Flash: Double Semi-Alert standby<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Do stop by and say “Arf” and “Hello” to Bozo and Magiceye, our friends in beautiful Mumbai, and see what pets from all around the world are up to at <a href="http://wingsandpaws.blogspot.com">PET PRIDE</a>Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-16306312533373613472009-10-16T15:48:00.006-04:002009-10-16T16:11:24.125-04:00THE MERGANSER NATION GATHERS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGHQ5HBttEzZJhS_KYgEYcNQAw0kAgRkCHE7ptw16jhuJHeAAJscZQ2qJA_GSJAyw4IVnTjysZJ9VheLUUlY9Nw4ImhWFeo0oClpxr06xB77p3iXlg6fgnDzuRzYptH5Hv-zcavDIt-o3/s1600-h/1+crop+mergansers+100_0031.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkGHQ5HBttEzZJhS_KYgEYcNQAw0kAgRkCHE7ptw16jhuJHeAAJscZQ2qJA_GSJAyw4IVnTjysZJ9VheLUUlY9Nw4ImhWFeo0oClpxr06xB77p3iXlg6fgnDzuRzYptH5Hv-zcavDIt-o3/s400/1+crop+mergansers+100_0031.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393291823731124802" /></a><br />The migration is on in earnest now. Wave after wave of turkey vultures soar over the bleached cornfields, while the musical chips of the kinglets fill the bushes around my house. Out on the lake this week, huge flotillas of Canada geese honked up a storm (literally), and then when the wind died down again, the double-crested cormorants filed past for several minutes, their numbers scarcely diminished after two summers of official government "culling." Now it's the mergansers' turn - mostly Red-breasteds with a few Commons here and there - escorted by a squadron of gulls. But even as they leave, the juncos are arriving...and on it goes. Farewell to some, and welcome to others.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjznpOKGWZ0Wf7tUEV7U7TEfZOSADMPjvvsLzXt9N5mU18f8GxthqqdILwSgqV3lcpdiJxfpDASWs9Il7lN5dtNM_EeV3l6-Z7l4UjCnl3fK2dneZg-QpCKxDok947eGbdOFAbhJcR6AoHT/s1600-h/1+crop+mergansers+100_0029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjznpOKGWZ0Wf7tUEV7U7TEfZOSADMPjvvsLzXt9N5mU18f8GxthqqdILwSgqV3lcpdiJxfpDASWs9Il7lN5dtNM_EeV3l6-Z7l4UjCnl3fK2dneZg-QpCKxDok947eGbdOFAbhJcR6AoHT/s400/1+crop+mergansers+100_0029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393291453698497298" border="0" /></a><br />These shots aren't the best. It was very overcast, and I wanted a distance shot to try and show the numbers, and give at least some idea of the spectacle. You could have stood at the breakwall and turned 90 degrees to either side, and seen the same sight, hundreds and hundreds of birds, endless birds. And then, by some unseen or heard cue, they began to lift off, and in a few moments were gone.Deborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-28129868093091843302009-10-15T11:45:00.008-04:002009-10-15T12:04:49.954-04:00SKYWATCH FRIDAY - October Skies (Lake Erie)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDmQA-KO8rQ2fl1ICnKp4iTqmZFzaeBW6Pq-B8z-MiBMbLNFoWEBj1ssaj_3NK9yw-e3Tpk4C9J3TqTdG8Ros403lOPX1tMjEyn5EH4ap6KCxfI11D6A_uE5gjLylpddLFEJZc4LMlO_R/s1600-h/1+autumn+storm+++100_0002_3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgDmQA-KO8rQ2fl1ICnKp4iTqmZFzaeBW6Pq-B8z-MiBMbLNFoWEBj1ssaj_3NK9yw-e3Tpk4C9J3TqTdG8Ros403lOPX1tMjEyn5EH4ap6KCxfI11D6A_uE5gjLylpddLFEJZc4LMlO_R/s400/1+autumn+storm+++100_0002_3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392856067927983586" border="0" /></a><br />I haven’t kept track, but if feels like most of the days this month have been overcast and rainy. One day, the rain was drawn like a curtain across the Ohio horizon. On another, the afternoon grew damp, and the sun shone like a white giant over the lake. The sunsets, often the only moments of color, echo the autumn colors of the flaming maples and burning bush hedges.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOtdhRR5J7Y9t0u7WFUbJO6ql15L1tZHn-ZfAjeoWUIl2F2mLBOK2Q2FBHApr53HcjZAF3FE0tcCYlHHaN1QiiTgtPHcaZVOplhgff47h8kbk02A5EOf1hHF6NRDsHcSUpUlNdsmzF5hFF/s1600-h/1+crop+sunset+haze+100_0025.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 388px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOtdhRR5J7Y9t0u7WFUbJO6ql15L1tZHn-ZfAjeoWUIl2F2mLBOK2Q2FBHApr53HcjZAF3FE0tcCYlHHaN1QiiTgtPHcaZVOplhgff47h8kbk02A5EOf1hHF6NRDsHcSUpUlNdsmzF5hFF/s400/1+crop+sunset+haze+100_0025.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392855871881916530" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOoWQuz6miwkQ8t5wRT3P6mEEYQpZponmC5wlhfFC1R3_6vr90HdYU0pL2viGczjtvG_cCap7vSrO5OgOirBH_A0vCTGphBvJnhAPHmZQ83foHMINJLGm8RePqyZAGDWPm8Y6ajGuuIOb/s1600-h/1+R+orange+sunset+100_0017+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOoWQuz6miwkQ8t5wRT3P6mEEYQpZponmC5wlhfFC1R3_6vr90HdYU0pL2viGczjtvG_cCap7vSrO5OgOirBH_A0vCTGphBvJnhAPHmZQ83foHMINJLGm8RePqyZAGDWPm8Y6ajGuuIOb/s400/1+R+orange+sunset+100_0017+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392855669069569250" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEdQlJoAT7fwQBFoRLOJZbV39QOBCPZzkZRo478oyuZadmw-xX015fXo2ZiLEUnUdcj3ybe7D3CjZ5izS_6G0_np8yYyk7vQ66A9JfMDuNf8MgJATcuA9qrjaDzmKdawl9de1Ugj7FEoK/s1600-h/1+R+pink+sunset+100_0002_3+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJEdQlJoAT7fwQBFoRLOJZbV39QOBCPZzkZRo478oyuZadmw-xX015fXo2ZiLEUnUdcj3ybe7D3CjZ5izS_6G0_np8yYyk7vQ66A9JfMDuNf8MgJATcuA9qrjaDzmKdawl9de1Ugj7FEoK/s400/1+R+pink+sunset+100_0002_3+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392855480885240946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">Excerpt from Dylan Thomas’ “Poem in October”</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);">A springful of larks in a rolling</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> Blackbirds and the sun of October</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> Summery</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> On the hill's shoulder,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> Come in the morning where I wandered and listened</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> To the rain wringing</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> Wind blow cold</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"> In the wood faraway under me.</span><br /><br />Click <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBQWYO_3FqM">HERE </a>for a YouTube video of the entire poem read by Thomas. <br /><br /><br /><br />To view more skies from all around our beautiful planet, or to join in, visit <a href="http://skyley.blogspot.com">SKYWATCH</a>. Live links after 2:30 p.m. EST time or 19:30 GMTDeborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091316613928276649.post-907002554275292862009-10-14T08:53:00.011-04:002009-10-14T09:17:13.982-04:00THE MIGRATION CONTINUES<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeq-CeBMwptp4JVfodPZkQsVCvYHYywAbqmDpBjPqkSSTxRE7UD2VNtCciRG4BLgDHQWhTXxFO-_hkdQ7ncPZn_aAcGhNBcr4eZQdHmdUb425R7HV37LrKNdrkq6l9Wc3Yv4YzsDZHUkLu/s1600-h/1+crop+TV+100_0022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeq-CeBMwptp4JVfodPZkQsVCvYHYywAbqmDpBjPqkSSTxRE7UD2VNtCciRG4BLgDHQWhTXxFO-_hkdQ7ncPZn_aAcGhNBcr4eZQdHmdUb425R7HV37LrKNdrkq6l9Wc3Yv4YzsDZHUkLu/s320/1+crop+TV+100_0022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392440650541781874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />No gray skies yesterday as another wave of migrating turkey vultures passed through. I grabbed the camera and tried (with less success than I'd envisioned) for a few shots as they swooped surprisingly low over my roof. As I was scanning the sky over the pollarded ash, a little face peeked down at me. I don't know if this little fellow was stretched out enjoying the sun, or if he was trying to make small as the vultures flew by.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5INTm2OalGP39RHQ_pdruJilhpucmEiskS-GsH2hbNwolyVjvUWQcNT9P6_yaR2h8yH13UJheoeqQFH9pJZdJNynYxgcvcNk_0uNuNZ-plo0TzmqcTY1NL-gmW_mUEXUMc4eY1TYzB3U/s1600-h/1+crop+TV+100_0024.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv5INTm2OalGP39RHQ_pdruJilhpucmEiskS-GsH2hbNwolyVjvUWQcNT9P6_yaR2h8yH13UJheoeqQFH9pJZdJNynYxgcvcNk_0uNuNZ-plo0TzmqcTY1NL-gmW_mUEXUMc4eY1TYzB3U/s320/1+crop+TV+100_0024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392441064070759202" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOg3gz-4Uqk_PrS1HAkCqcsotTcQw99ZpdLkvUDTyVh9mvdqvRPYD7qNYz8LHeYRj8o2axPyT5mjSo1z4Qbrpkm-r1IS_B51dK-_x8qwvPT99JaqD-t7TdPW1_HIKfSn3vb8A7w6N4A6uA/s1600-h/1+crop+watchout+100_0019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOg3gz-4Uqk_PrS1HAkCqcsotTcQw99ZpdLkvUDTyVh9mvdqvRPYD7qNYz8LHeYRj8o2axPyT5mjSo1z4Qbrpkm-r1IS_B51dK-_x8qwvPT99JaqD-t7TdPW1_HIKfSn3vb8A7w6N4A6uA/s320/1+crop+watchout+100_0019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392440225314242754" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWeyTSkc-PUAjDKyRo7iUxSxP14YGkJ8IAiJc7me3l5ZOLcOM0mia6ezgGAj6_sPRIK8q7P1u_Wv_OG5L_-3xPcU_-u0KRUkDHiEHouS5vtqKxIjFzLT6QCf_RM5CkFdOOrT95ubpcdFDT/s1600-h/1+R+100_0019+%28800+x+600%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWeyTSkc-PUAjDKyRo7iUxSxP14YGkJ8IAiJc7me3l5ZOLcOM0mia6ezgGAj6_sPRIK8q7P1u_Wv_OG5L_-3xPcU_-u0KRUkDHiEHouS5vtqKxIjFzLT6QCf_RM5CkFdOOrT95ubpcdFDT/s320/1+R+100_0019+%28800+x+600%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392439910457522706" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Also, my friend Cath just sent me this link for identifying bird sounds. I haven't had a chance to explore it much yet, but it looks pretty interesting, and it's a great idea. <br />http://www.xeno-canto.org/index_static.htmlDeborah Godinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15175977572194074388noreply@blogger.com11