Hawks Enjoy Keith Jarrett

The Wild continues to surprise us.

Case in point, this spry young fellow you see here, as yet unnamed.

We suspect he’s one of Glaxus‘ kin but so far he’s been very, very quiet.

Perhaps he’s hunting wabbits (and if you don’t get the reference, don’t worry).

Doubtful it’d be rabbits in undergrowth that dense. More likely chipmunks, voles, mice, something of that sort.

But we did notice his penchant for Keith Jarrett, specifically The Koln Concert (one of our favorites, as well).

We hope he finds what he seeks.

We wish that on all.

We also wish they’d be better prepared. Often people find what they seek and don’t realize what they were looking for until after it’s found them.

Glaxus the Hawk

One day we were blessed with a small hawk in our yard.

Hawks visit us often as we have many bird feeders, many bird feeders bring many birds and other seed eaters (chipmunk, squirrel, the occasional neighbor, …), and much prey brings predators, hence hawks (among others)

I did not know this hawk’s name when I took the video and have since learned he is Glaxus.

Proud name for a hawk, don’t you think, Glaxus?

A name of power, a name of honor, a name of command.

Names are a fascinating study, especially to authors who must forever come up with names for characters.

And if you’re based in one culture and writing about someone from another culture, do you give the alien individual a name with meaning in your culture or one with meaning in the other’s culture?

And if you do the latter, you’ll need to explain the significance of the name in it’s original cultural setting.

Example: Ng Bao, literally “Seven Bread.” Who names their son (it’s a male name) “Seven Bread”?

In it’s original cultural setting, it denotes someone who’ll bring good luck and great favor onto the family.

Glaxus, the aforenamed hawk, will bring worlds to his fledglings.

Glorious children, they.



Opossums Love OBach

What can be more wonderful than dining out on freshly offered seeds?

Why, dining out on freshly offered seeds while listening to Glenn Gould play OBach, of course.

So says Ogilvie the Opossum

Sometimes I encounter people who say Gould wasn’t that good.

I smile, nod, and walk away.

If I dare, if the individual making such a statement seems willing, I’ll ask what their statement is based on.

Being honest, more often than not their statement is based on hearsay (a third cousin to “heresy” linguistically) or a profound incompetence and ignorance of music.

Okay, sometimes it’s not so profound.

It’s still incompetence and ignorance.

Fortunately, such does not deter Ogilvie, who is a wise, if somewhat aged, Opossum.



Neither Snow Nor Rain

Turkeys in Winter.

Forget that this post is being published in May. Just go with it.

Ah, turkeys in winter.

A glorious lot of them.

Making a mess in our backyard.

Turkeys, wonderful creatures that they are, have no knowledge of sanitation.

We venture forth, seed offerings in hand, they gather, …

And poop.


We say, “Hey, human walking here.”

And they respond, “Gobble, gobble,” and after a moment’s deliberation, “Gobble!”



They ain’t tiny little raccoons no more

Children grow.

It is the nature of things.

Wonderful cliche, that, don’t you think? It is the nature of things? Alternately fatalistic and dismissive. An admixture of “that’s the way it happens” and “big deal.”

I don’t accept fatalism or dismissiveness.

I know they exist. I know other people have them as part of their raison d’etre.

I do not.

Celebrate while you can, that’s me. Live it up. Enjoy. Our moments are precious and few.

Rejoice in the continuation of life. It will not always be there for us to savor.

And in the meantime, our children grow.

My concern?

Who will care for The Wild behind our home when Susan and I pass.

For that matter and due to the construction on the other side of the wood, will there still be wildlife here when Susan and I pass.

I’m reminded of those last few scenes in Silent Running (a classic).

And for now, they ain’t tiny little raccoons no more.