June 9, 2009
A little behind
Prelude to the afternoon of a fawn.
Truth in advertising.
Here is a little behind, along with its mama’s larger one. Not a great pic, but the best I could do while washing the dishes, spotting the pair, and snapping them quickly through the kitchen window.
There are few things cuter than watching a newborn fawn closely follow its mother as it discovers what this world is all about. So far, it has learned about my wood chopping pile, the salal-draped shore pine forest around it (salal is the low green plant you see in the pic), the neon blue dragon flies that buzz everywhere, my garbage and recycling bins, the endless sound of all the birds and frogs in the trees, and the way the driveway gravel feels under those little hooves. I am hoping that s/he does not get an object lesson about cars. This is a dead end rural road that sees very few four-wheeled critters each day, but there are way too many sad stories on this island of car versus deer. A losing proposition on both sides of the windshield.
I, too, am a little behind. Not only because I am a fairly small person (when people meet me who have only seen me on the web, they’re often surprised by this and proclaim that gee, they always thought I was much taller/bigger/whatever… maybe my photos make me look like Compozilla, the monster whose notes attacked Cleveland?). No, not only that. But because I’ve finally been home for a length of time, and the amount of catch up in all realms– music, social, house stuff, island stuff– has been enough to keep me in the moment of living my life, rather than the post-modern pursuit of reporting about living it. Thus, I’ve fallen a little behind on my regular blogging schedule.
This, however, will change. Enough cool things are going on that I’ll take some time to describe them in upcoming posts. I started to find it ironic this spring that one of the key things that I go around the country speaking about for workshops, conferences, and university classes, is the great professional benefit of being present and interactive on the web, 24/7. And yet, due to being so busy talking about it, I was having less and less time to do it!
Web presence is much more than static website updates– it means consistently creating new material and information to pop across people’s pixels that plugs them purposefully into a perception of one’s personhood. Sorry, just had to do that. MySpace, Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, listservs, and the endlessly engaging blogs out there that deal with pithy matter (as opposed to my often defiantly un-pithy matter here in kelpville), all serve as serendipitous portals to income-producing careers. It’s been working consistently this way for me for quite a while, and so I like to inform and encourage my peers as well, that they might experience similarly happy results.
I joke that apparently, the key to success in my business is to move to a remote, bridge-less island floating out in the middle of nowhere that many have never heard of. Works like a charm– my composing career has never been so busy since moving far away from a big city two years ago. So I guess this makes me a bit of a musical guinea pig. Oink! Maybe my next piece will be for swine flute.
Glenn Buttkus said,
June 10, 2009 @ 5:31 am
Swine Flute…..yeah, that might be the next terrific name for a rock band, or your next CD in the vein of Frank Zappa, P.D.Q. Bach, or Captain Beefheart. How is work coming on your release of your vocals on a CD? I look forward to it. In your case,
I believe that you could reside in the Yukon in an old circus tent, hooked up to Dish and Satellite Wifi, and your composing career would still be booming. When you’re good you’re good as William Claude Dunkenfield used to say while swilling gin and chasing midgets. If you did live in the Yukon though, I doubt you would see more critters than you already do on your emerald isle on the edge of the Salish Sea. I am listening to some Stevie Ray Vaughn at the moment, tapping my toe and trying to keep up with the keyboard, so I haven’t listened to your musical clip yet. But, hey,
your Shapiro Poem of the Week jumped out at me, knocked me on keester, and so
I had to do the line breaks and move it post haste over to my site.
Afternoon With A Fawn
There are few things cuter than watching
a newborn fawn closely follow its mother
as it discovers what this world is all about.
So far, it has learned about my wood chopping pile,
the salal-draped shore pine forest around it,
the neon blue dragon flies that buzz everywhere,
my garbage and recycling bins,
the endless sound of all the birds and frogs in the trees,
and the way the driveway gravel feels
under those little hooves.
I am hoping that s/he does not get an object lesson about cars.
This is a dead end rural road
that sees very few four-wheeled critters each day,
but there are way too many sad stories
on this island of car versus deer.
A losing proposition on both sides of the windshield.
Alex Shapiro June 2009
Just how tall are you? At 5’7″+ I do not top trees or bump my head much. Sunday is Flag Day, and my birthday. You may wave your flag in honor of the occasions.
Glenn
barry said,
June 10, 2009 @ 11:01 am
Midwestern Greetings Alex,
Nothing quite like fawning over a cute butt. I’m glad to hear (though I knew this already) that you are still short and have a “little behind”.
I’m always amazed that you know what is growing in your back yard. Hopefully there are no hunters on Friday Isle.
Now that I’m down at the bottom of your comment page I see things have been modified by Tina Silva. What does she modify?
Barry
Glenn Buttkus said,
June 11, 2009 @ 5:07 am
Well, Joni finished her courting and sparking this morning, and I had a chance to listen to your mp3, Evensong Suite: Prelude @ 1:36. As always, the music matches your mood, your pic, and the moment; sweet yet stirring. One can see the fawn frolicking, clicking its hooves over the clover and lavender, chasing bugs and butterflies, chewing on sweet San Juan grass, and suckling mama’s milk. Nice imagery, lady, and it is eradicating my memory of my racoon encounter, one of many, on the way from the car to the office. We have 400 acres out here at American Lake VA, on what used to be North Fort Lewis, on the edge of the lake–and racoons are fed by many of the inmates and patients. So they will rush right up to you in the dark and try ane panhandle you; scares the bejesus out of me when they spring from behind a fir, or the edge of a building.
Glenn
What does Tina do, or has she done? And how does Kalina Web Designs do their coding?
Mike Wills said,
June 11, 2009 @ 7:49 am
Hi Alex!!
A mother and fawn crossed ahead us during a pleasure drive toward Carpenter Falls on the western shore of Skaneateles Lake, on the the Finger Lakes. I head there were usually two fawns, but there was only one…as in your photo.
I’ve been shooting early morning on Fall Creek and up to three fawns have approached me, curious, without their mother. Exactly like three children. That quickly changes when Mom showed up a minute later.
Mike
Alex Shapiro said,
June 11, 2009 @ 11:41 pm
I’ve seen sibling and only child fawns with does over the years. Perhaps the onlies began their lives with a sibling who didn’t make it.
Which leads me to this sad observation: the same doe in the photo from two days ago, was back again today, walking all over my property. But her little fawn was not with her. Not a good sign since he’s only days old and suckling; he would never be far behind. Sniff. Last year, a fawn just slightly older than this one pictured broke its leg and was not long for this world after hobbling around a bit. They are so fragile, these young ones, and once they are weakened, nature does the rest. Watching the mama doe walking around solo this morning, I wondered if her heart was breaking, or if loss is something that wild animals cope better with than humans.
The cycle of life is always on display here. Last week I pulled over to the side of the road in the north end of the island, to watch the amazing sight of two adult bald eagles eat a newly dead doe, about ten yards from me. Other hawks and crows circled high in the sky, and there was no doubt that her death led directly to the enriched lives of other creatures.
I have modified this blog template to such a vast extent that I doubt even Tina would recognize it. In short, WordPress offers a huge variety of “themes” for the “skin” (layout) of its blogs, and four years ago I happened to choose one that Tina designed, according to the copyright notice. I sent her an email to thank her and to let her know that I had used her work as a point of departure for my own; she wrote back very nicely. So I’ve created an adaptation, and a “new work,” in music lingo, from a preexisting work. I would love to significantly update the look of this blog, frankly, by starting over with a fresh theme, but I’m too busy to mess with it and tend to be a practitioner of the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” school of thought!
I am a hair under 5’5, and no doubt shrinking daily as the force of gravity keeps pulling me and my vertebrae toward the earth.