Tag: nature

Foxes in the Neighborhood

Do you ever see wild animals?

Animals have a way of sneaking into civilized areas. It’s hard to visit a place where there aren’t any animals at all, and if you do, it’s probably a place you shouldn’t be visiting if you value your health.

Living in a small town, I see my fair share of wildlife. There are, of course, the usual suspects – squirrels, crows, ravens, and various buzzing insects – but I have very rarely had the privilege of spying a deer warily crossing the street at dusk or dawn.

However, my most notable animal encounters were with the same animal: red foxes. Twice, I’ve seen them. Heck, it could have been the same fox. Both times, the bold beast was out in the open in early morning, fearless as could be, trotting across the plaza without a care in the world. Beautiful creatures, with fine, red-orange coats, and clearly well-fed and healthy. I imagine foxes are a lot like coyotes, making use of the garbage that humans throw out.

They were memorable moments. It’s strange to think of animals like foxes and deer as common in the U.S., and yet not see them very often. Unless you going to work early, like I do, you miss out on opportunities to witness them going about their day. But it’s lovely when you get the chance.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Bats Are Cute. Prove Me Wrong.

Sometimes, daily prompts are quite wonderfully bizarre. For example:

Jot down the first thing that comes to your mind.

Okay, you asked for it. The very first thing …

Bats are cute. A lot cuter than people give them credit for.

Maybe I should have waited until Halloween to do this.

Anyway, bats are adorable and get a bad rap for being scary, bloodsucking, grotesque monsters akin to rats on wings. This is untrue and unjust to bats. Even ugly bats wrap around the event horizon and come shooting back out into the realm of cuteness. Bats deserve to be respected.

I mean, look at this. Is this the terror that flaps in the night? No, it’s a cute little baby bundle of fluff. Or this. And this, too. Respect the bat!

And that’s all I have to say about that. The first thing that came to mind for today’s blog post.

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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Big Buzzing Bullies

There are bullies under the summer sun. They have no sense of mercy, they inflict harm without cause, and they don’t even have the decency to enjoy it. They buzz around like yellow caution signs of doom. They set up shop exactly where it will worst inconvenience you – butting into your backyard and your homes like they own the place. And if you say anything, they stab you.

I am, of course, talking about wasps. Nature, for all its horrors, is pretty chill all told. Spiders only bother you when you bother them (“It’s not MY fault you walked into the web I set up at eye level”). Tigers and bears and wolves are just hungry, or you got too close to their cubs. Who doesn’t get angry when someone messes with their kids? Sharks are the victims of bad press. Just because someone can’t blink or smile or emote in any way comprehensible to human brains is no reason to discriminate (also, get out of the water). And crocodiles and hippos … okay, they’re pretty bad, but if you keep your distance they’re okay.

Wasps don’t keep their distance. Wasps don’t need a reason. Wasps go out looking for trouble. Those narrow, spindly bodies, those pitch-dark eyes … Just look at the villainous invertebrates!

Look at them! Look at the vile monstrosities!

Not at all like the humble bee. Bees are selfless. Bees are productive. Bees can coexist with mankind. If you rile them up, they’ll sting once and give their lives for the colony. See, even if you’re being swarmed by bees, they’re still quite heroic when you think about it. They give themselves for a greater cause. Not wasps. The only thing a wasp has to give is PAIN.

They don’t produce honey or wax or even jelly. They got nothing (except the aforementioned giving of pain). All animals, no matter how scary, are reasonable enough when you get to know them. Except wasps. They gang up on you because you looked at them funny. They are genocidal, resource-hording invaders. They’re under your feet. They’re in your walls. They want your PB&J sandwich. They’ve claimed your favorite climbing tree and will obliterate you if you get too close. Screw you, wasps.

Wasps are jerks.

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Image courtesy of Wikipedia; License under CC BY-SA 2.5

Ode to the Ant

Behold the ant

Small and squishy, or so they say

Feeble and tiny, or so they claim

And yet…

Watch the ant work without ceasing

Watch her climb and build and lift and strive

Alone she is ended by the bottom of a shoe

In her thousands she makes fodder of your toes

Behold the ant

She is small, but she is mighty

She lifts boulders bigger than herself

She builds cities beneath our own

She farms, she wars, she thrives

Don’t mess with the little ant

She’s clearly doing something right

And there’s more of her than you

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Snow and Me: A Complicated Relationship

Winter is approaching fast, and that means snow is on the way where I live. And snow means a clean split between those shivering with excitement and those groaning in despair.

Snow is weird. You want to paint a happy picture of winter fun? Throw in some snowmen and snowballs and snow forts. Want to paint a picture of a barren wasteland? Take OUT the snowmen and snowballs and snow forts.

Snow is great until it isn’t. Making snow angels and trekking through knee-deep drifts is all well and good until the melt seeps into your pants and you can’t feel your toes anymore. Or your fingers. Or your nose and ears. Hey, look! My pinkie just froze and snapped off! Isn’t this FUN?

Look at this magical winter world
Image by Bonnie Moreland; Public Domain Mark 1.0.

When I was a kid, I loved snow. Snow meant days off school and winter play and running around trying to come up with new ways to use the stuff. I loved playing in it and rolling huge snowmen. Well, more like snow boulders. We would just roll a bunch of big uber-snowballs and leave them scattered across the field. And I have fond memories of watching snow slipping off the tallest tree branches during the thaw. Snow is fun – when you don’t have responsibilities.

Nowadays, I prefer to stay inside and enjoy it from a safe distance.

You see, kids don’t have to drive in snow. Or walk down to the mailbox in it. They might have to shovel the driveway, but pay them in cash or candy and they’re happy enough. Too bad adults can’t pay themselves for cracking their spines lugging shovelfuls of very heavy frozen water. Growing up is a terrible thing, sometimes.

Ah, yes, snow is water. Which means it melts. And that brings on the SLUSH. Nobody ever mentions SLUSH when discussing winter. It’s a wintry wonderland, happy and clean and pretty! And then it all turns to SLUSH. Dirty, half-melted bogs of detritus covering roads and pooling in every yard and gutter. The aftermath of winter.

There are people who never see snow, for whom the concept is a distant fantasy. These people probably enjoy snow very much because they never have to deal with it. Snow is a pleasant image on TV screens and picture books and never, ever interferes with their lives. They can safely imagine what it would be like to be in the snow without having to actually endure it.

SOMEONE has to clean up this mess …
Image by jpctalbot; CC BY 2.0.

Yeah, you grow up and little fun things become big pains. Alas. But, snow IS pretty, I’ll give it that. And freshly fallen snow is one of the purest, cleanest things you can see in the world. And the morning after a snowfall is so quiet and peaceful and contemplative. Or eerie and spooky if you’re so inclined.

To all the people who live in regions where there is snow most, if not all of, the year, hats off to you. You are tougher and more patient than I am. I would say that snow only belongs in regions uninhabited by all life, but since humanity always seems keen on colonizing the most desolate and inhospitable regions on Earth, I guess that bus has long since passed. At least some people know how to make really pretty art out of it.

Snow is just weird. It’s this twisted dichotomy of life and death. Snow-covered landscapes are either joyful, festive scenes or just pits of death. Maybe a person’s changing attitude toward snow is some sort of reflection of our changing nature from childhood into adulthood.

Or maybe we’re all crazy and should just stay inside where it’s warm.

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Title Image: “snowman” by Dan’l Burton; Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.