Ah! the sacredness of morning's quiet: a retrospective

Greye in the back "square" quiet place--PL, '15

 

Ahh! Sunday—at last. The first day of the week, and the first day I haven’t had to go somewhere since last Monday. “But there’s church,” you might think. No, I went to church yesterday—Saturday—for a worship-service funeral.

 

On my way to retrieve the newspapers this morning, I noticed the zinnias and lantana were already wilted, and the sun wasn’t even out. Nothing to do but get the hose and water them, since there seemed to be no help forthcoming in the weather department. Taking the hose back to the faucet afterwards, I noticed all the south-side mums were either wilted, grass-overtaken, or dead. So I watered the poor things, plus the marvelously-healthy Bermuda. Tomorrow….

 

Back on the front porch, I separated the adverts from both papers, took them inside to the recycling box, then proceeded to read—journal and pen at the ready. Sunday traffic is usually low in the morning; I was expecting a lovely, cool, quiet start to the day.

 

Not gonna happen. The neighbor man, dressed in what looked to be church clothes, drove into his driveway and proceeded to vacuum out the family car. Or at least, he opened the passenger door and turned on something with a motor--a generator, perhaps? At the same time, his dog began its incessant barking.

 

Not in the mood for these obtrusive elements, I gathered all my paraphernalia and betook myself back through the house to the backyard “square,” the place where the picnic table--brought over for the July reunion—still sat. Under the spreading chestnu… hackberry tree it was, so the table was not only the repository of crispy, brown leaves, but also folded lawn chairs and stuff from the last repotting session.

 

A rag lay nearby, so I cleaned the plastic cloth still there--anchored with old, old porcelain light fixtures--stood the lawn chairs against the shed wall, and wiped down the rest of the table and the benches.

 

Though there were more back neighbors, counting those on Amelia Street, it was blessedly quiet.

 

Which way to face for my morning reading? Neither direction was what I’d call a beauty spot: on the south was a near side of the shed, dead yarrow and nearly-dead asters in front, and beyond, the hedge-row. Greenery, at least.

 

Facing north, which I chose, was the neighbor’s newish privacy fence, and the huge hackberry trunk with privet and Yellow Rose of Texas foliage beneath and beyond it. Way off, across--but close to--Couchwood Street, an enormous pile of orangey, red-clay dirt desecrated the once-pristine hayfield. But today, no machines roared and beeped. Ah! As the old hymn goes, “Blessed quietness, Holy quietness…” Except for the birds, for which I’m grateful.

 

Mid-morning, with only coffee for sustenance so far, my tummy grumbled, so I toasted and buttered two slices of raisin-cinnamon bread, grabbed the last cup of mandarin oranges, and a handful of mixed nuts and called that breakfast. Soon, the neighborhood began to stir. Doors opening and closing, voices, dogs barking. It was time to move inside.

 

May we all have quiet mornings this autumn—if we need them.  And we do. Don’t we? I do.



Animals: trivia, oddities and information

          Someone said once to make your reading work for you. That’s what I’m doing for this post.
ALLIGATORS—even in the wild—may lay 30 to 50 eggs, but only about 2% of the hatchlings make it to adulthood. (D. Thomason, Hot Springs Sentinel Record, 9.4.’15)

BEES cannot drink while flying (unlike hummingbirds) and so must land to feed.

Three different BEETLES attack pine trees: the Southern pine beetle, the IPS engraver beetle and the turpentine beetle. (J. Carson, Arkansas Democrat-Gazette)

The difference between BLOODHOUNDS: one is a trailing dog who keeps his head up to sniff; one is a tracking dog which puts his nose to the ground and follows footsteps. Both can be trained (field work) for search and rescue and narcotics detections and apprehension. (A. Wallworth, AD-G, April 2, 2012)

A BREED OF CHICKEN is Sicilian Buttercup.

CANADA GEESE defecate 92 times a day. (AD-G)

“If CATS are not fed at a regular location, their instinct is to roam.”  (J. Franks, a feline rescue volunteer)
[I hoped this was true, because once, I left eight feral cats without any food for two weeks. When I returned, six were still here. But how many squirrels and birds met their deaths during that period? Another time, I left for ten days; the cats were still here. The third time, I left for a week, and only three had persevered.]

COD prey on lobsters.

DOG breeds I’ve never heard of until now: “basenji” and “Chinese hairless crested.”

DOMESTICATED animals define what it is to be a human.”  (S. Brooks, assistant professor of equine genetics, Cornell University.)

DRUM (FISH) are native to Arkansas, a gray, freshwater species. Not usually sought by fishermen. They are bottom feeders that eat other fish and insects. (R. J. Smith, AD-G)

  FEMALE LOBSTERS are hens.

Several years ago. FOUR U. S. ZOOS housed giant Pandas: Zoo Atlanta, San Diego, Memphis and Washington D. C.

A newly-discovered FROG SPECIES, paedophryne amanuensis, is the world’s smallest vertebrate … less than half the diameter of a US dime. It lives in rainforest litter. (Science Now, January 23, 2012)

On land, GEESE are a gaggle; in the air, they are a skein.

GIANT PANDAS in the wilds of China number 1600, with 300 more in captivity, 108 of those which were at a breeding center at the Chengdu Panda Base, at the time this article came out.

GORILLAS are given the same kind of birth control as women and are given the same pregnancy test. (L. L. Williams, AD-G)

GREENHEAD DUCKS are known by some as “green timber.” (from an obit)

The HALIBUT is the largest flatfish.

A 68-pound rare KEMP’S RIDLEY SEA TURTLE was released in the Gulf of Mexico after a trip---supposedly via the powerful Gulf Stream-- and was found in the Netherlands in 2008. After three years of rehab, he was flown to Miami and trucked to Sarasota, outfitted with a satellite tracking system allowing scientists the ability to monitor his travels. (December 28, 2011)

 

 

Birds, birds, birds! And other wild (and tame) life

Google images

 I’ve enjoyed watching the wildlife around Couchwood lately. A rabbit has taken up abode somewhere on the south side—maybe in one of the neighbor’s yards, but it frolics in my yard, too. One afternoon, it ran hither and yon—“hither” being in what-we-used-to-call the "tennis court," and “yon,” into the lower hedge row. This is the third sighting of the animal. Better one rabbit than a hill full of black cats, like last year.

Hummingbirds have found the feeder hanging outside the dining-room window. One little thing seemed to be eating from the bottom of the feeder. It flew and lit on a beautyberry limb--the first time I’d seen one actually light--returned to the unusual place and sipped before flying, its white tail feathers fanning out.

And the robins! I wonder how many families of robins nest in the trees in the south yard. One day, I looked out and seven birds lined the rim of the birdbath. All had speckled breasts: they were juveniles. One bathed, the others perched and occasionally sipped. Another fluttered around the others, pecked at one like in a game of tag. Or “king of the hill.” They reminded me of a bunch of boys vying for position, staking out their territory. Soon, a blue jay called and flew in. None of the robins moved. Then a hummingbird flew by, and soon a wasp circled the bunch. Gradually, all dispersed.

And then there’s the neighbor’s dog. The worst thing (for me) Corey could have done was build a pen for it outside. Apparently, the mutt doesn’t like it, because last weekend while I sat outside, it yapped continually.

I hope you enjoy the cooler weather. I certainly do.