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Category Archives: Poetry
Winter Cometh
THE WOOLLY BEAR
It has been a lean October for birds. Neither hawk nor owl nor woodpecker to be seen, but banded woolly bears are here. Not real bears, mind you. Circumnavigations of the lake provide numerous encounters with slow moving fuzzy caterpillars. A Google image search turned up only that this picture was of an invertebrate.
However, a search on the words “fuzzy brown and black caterpillar” turned up exactly what it was:
Pyrrharctia isabella
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
| Isabella tiger moth | |
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| Adult | |
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| Woolly Bear caterpillar | |
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Not evaluated (IUCN 3.1)
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Scientific classification  |
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| Kingdom: | Animalia |
| Phylum: | Arthropoda |
| Class: | Insecta |
| Order: | Lepidoptera |
| Superfamily: | Noctuoidea |
| Family: | Erebidae |
| Tribe: | Arctiini |
| Genus: | Pyrrharctia |
| Species: | P. isabella |
| Binomial name | |
| Pyrrharctia isabella (JE Smith, 1797) |
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| Synonyms | |
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Pyrrharctia isabella (Isabella tiger moth) can be found in many cold regions, including the Arctic [needs citation]. The banded woolly bear larva emerges from the egg in the fall and overwinters in its caterpillar form, when it freezes solid. It survives being frozen by producing a cryoprotectant in its tissues. In the spring it thaws out and emerges to pupate. Once it emerges from its pupa as a moth it has only days to find a mate.
In most temperate climates, caterpillars become moths within months of hatching, but in the Arctic the summer period for vegetative growth – and hence feeding – is so short that the Woolly Bear must feed for several summers, freezing again each winter before finally pupating. Some are known to live through as many as 14 winters.[1]
Filed under Photography, Poetry, Wildlife
Let the People Speak!
American friends, the solution to your dilemma is at hand!
Gone Fishin’
Yesterday we closed the office here at Nathanguitars, due to various pressing issues:
- the Westy had to go in for a new water pump ($600)
- we needed new material for our ongoing series of watercolour sketches (see sketch below)
- my son and I went fishing (no luck)
- there was nothing else to do (???)
sketch #1 – June 27/16
Today is more of the same, only I don’t know yet just what that will be precisely. However, directly after breakfast we began a short series of poems typed on index cards:
Filed under Fishing, Poetry, Sketching, Typewriters, VW Vans
Haiku Sketchbook June 17
Mt Fuji painted
Hokusai, thirty six times
Me, BC Leg three
9 am: not hokusai #1
10 am: not hokusai #2
11 am: not hokusai #3
That gnome, known ‘m?
who’s that new gnome?
Filed under Animal psychology, Birds, Poetry, Sketching, Typewriters
To Buy or Not to Buy
Not forgetting National Poetry Month
That is the question, or is it?
Oh that people would pay to read this discontented blog and make it a glorious monetizing scheme this summer. Alas poor blog, I don’t know it, whomever.
As we honor William Shakespeare again, and again, and again – I mean there have been countless writers in the world in the last four centuries, have there not? I take this opportunity, or not, to write a sonnet and accompany it with some more pictures of eagles, which are irrelevant to the occasion, and the sonnet, or are they? Feel free, meanwhile, dear gentle readers, to read my words and feeling inspired, buy my book.
FRIDAY NIGHT
Down the gutters water runs in torrents
Springtime wind and rain returned today
Early heat had lulled us into torpor
When cold wet breezes blew as if to say
Sun or rain, who knows what blows tomorrow
The wild wind is this and here to stay
As rain washed down with sweet cold drafts of ale
Friday night’s the time for pizza treat
Listening to cool jazz tunes on the hi-fi
Sip sauvignon blanc with chocolate sweets
Rapid fire guitar notes set the tempo
Fading sky from blue turns into black
Flying fingers dance upon piano
Resting on the couch, we settle back
Filed under Birds, Photography, Poetry, Wildlife
Day Shift
Hobbled to the park to check on Bushtits
Left camera’s memory card plugged into computer
Returned to get it
Weather warm
Changed into lightweight shirt
Pollen everywhere
How long does a sprain last
My aching foot wants to know
I swallow some medicine
To ease my paltry suffering
But still I revel in being alive
Considering the alternative
What have I to whine about?
And today on my shift:
Filed under Birds, Photography, Poetry, Wildlife
Song of the Bushtit
From Wikipedia: The American bushtit (Psaltriparus minimus) is the only species in the family Aegithalidae found in the New World, and the only member of the genus Psaltriparus. In North America, it is referred to simply as “bushtit”.
Filed under Birds, Photography, Poetry, Wildlife
