Old Winter House
Two-story farmhouse
moved from country to town.
Temporarily up on blocks.
Set down in an abandoned pasture
at the edge of town.
Never built to be snug.
Straw bales stacked two-high
around its crawl space -
to keep pipes from freezing.
Surrounded by shallow ponds
dug out for watering horses,
come spring melt.
Until then -
winter wind rattles its windows,
rushing around loose frames.
The howling seems to come from
a long way off.
Miniature snow drifts form
on the sills, on the
cracked linoleum floor,
on the bed blanket -
to remain until morning.
No reason to melt.
Warm breath on cracked panes
creates crystal patterns, connecting
frigid, lacey landscapes
continuous with the
frozen outside.
-Clem Nagel (from my first book of poetry,
Prairie Sky, Prairie Ground)
Today, as the wind howls outside and fresh snow
whips around to find a resting place for the duration
of winter . . . I think of that old house. The creaky
stairs, the uneven floors that often shifted (made for
challenging games of marbles!), the wavy glass windows
that distorted what you saw outside. Someday, I will
write something honoring those defiant, desperate,
determined ways of living. Some of my friends lived in
chicken coops, some in "basement homes" where the
actual above-ground house never was completed.
(Comments are welcome! Just check on the word "comments" below)
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Friday, February 18, 2011
An Amazing Video Clip
Go to this you tube site to watch an amazing BBC video. Be sure to have your sound on.
http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=2HiUMlOz4UQ&vq=large
http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=2HiUMlOz4UQ&vq=large
Sunday, February 13, 2011
The End of Winter is in Sight!
The best word I know for this time of year is groaty. The temperature is in the 40's for the first time in months and the water is running down the streams. Exposing the accumulations of a season's detritus. It is both the time I hate most in the winter - and the time I love the best. Makes we want to drag the hose out of the basement and go up and down the street, cleaning up everything in sight.''
late winter grime
tired February snow
lies heavy on winter-weary souls,
its soft white pureness
lost long weeks ago,
beauty bled away
as run-off down dirty streets
winter's intention forgotten,
people's cast-away refuse
embedded in hard icy crystals,
waits for warmth of sun and
clean rains to wash away
fatigue spread across grey snow
patient trees wait
for promised green life,
their fitful movements
reflect our spent spirits -
wary of spring thaws
we yearn for this time to end
- from Waiting For the Heat to Pass
Elizabeth Nagel
If you wish to comment, click comments below
late winter grime
tired February snow
lies heavy on winter-weary souls,
its soft white pureness
lost long weeks ago,
beauty bled away
as run-off down dirty streets
winter's intention forgotten,
people's cast-away refuse
embedded in hard icy crystals,
waits for warmth of sun and
clean rains to wash away
fatigue spread across grey snow
patient trees wait
for promised green life,
their fitful movements
reflect our spent spirits -
wary of spring thaws
we yearn for this time to end
- from Waiting For the Heat to Pass
Elizabeth Nagel
If you wish to comment, click comments below
Friday, February 11, 2011
The Crowds Shout "Egypt is Free"
I sat at my computer this morning, watching the live feed from Cairo's central square. Almost like being there - except I had not put my life at risk, as did the 300 or so people who died in the course of an event no one imagined possible.
What comes next? Will it be temporary military rule - while the constitution is re-written and elections are held that are not rigged? Or are thousand of protesters only at the beginning of a long journey.
Autocratic rulers do not give up their powers easily - nor do they rule alone. To know how rare freedom really is, one only needs to trace the regimes on a world map where dissent is not allowed. But this revolution is different than any other in the history of humanity. Technology-driven, the face of a new world is being born.
If you want to leave a comment, just click on the word comments below.
What comes next? Will it be temporary military rule - while the constitution is re-written and elections are held that are not rigged? Or are thousand of protesters only at the beginning of a long journey.
Autocratic rulers do not give up their powers easily - nor do they rule alone. To know how rare freedom really is, one only needs to trace the regimes on a world map where dissent is not allowed. But this revolution is different than any other in the history of humanity. Technology-driven, the face of a new world is being born.
If you want to leave a comment, just click on the word comments below.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
SNOW BUNTINGS
A light dusting of snow is predicted for tomorrow. Although I do not
make my home in the prairie-flatland of Minnesota's (and North Dakota's
and Canada's!) Red River Valley, whenever it snows at this time of year,
my memories return to that child-hood landscape and the gift of hearing
and seeing wandering flocks of Snow Buntings. As an early teen-ager,
I would take winter walks out into the fields, just to see what I might see
(as I dutifully recorded in my brown, Spiral Notebook.)
Just today, I took out that now tattered and yellowing-page notebook,
and re-read what I had written upon seeing a flock of Snow Buntings.
One phrase, in my scriggley handwriting (with misspelled words, of
course!) was they are as the snow themselves.
I have since discovered that Snow Buntings breed and nest in the Arctic
and are the most northern small bird to do so. (In winter, they wander
as far south as they have to, in order to find food.)
I would share with you one of my favorite poems I wrote four years ago.
That old, brown Spiral notebook was open alongside my, then brand new
computer keyboard. That poem is to be found somewhere in the middle
of my first published book of poetry, Prairie Sky, Prairie Ground, and
contains a phrase that gave the book its title.
Snow Buntings
They come like arctic gusts,
drifting, sweeping over fields,
to find weed and grass seed heads
rising above snow-swept land
Dense flocks of snowflake birds
swirl in graceful evolutions, climb skyward,
turn in unison, spiraling down to land -
a joyful restlessness
among prairie sky and ground.
Rushing sounds of
white wings, at one with winter,
their unbroken flight-chorus
of chirps and purring -
sounds like laughter of
happy children.
(Comments are welcome! Just click on
the word "comment" below.)
make my home in the prairie-flatland of Minnesota's (and North Dakota's
and Canada's!) Red River Valley, whenever it snows at this time of year,
my memories return to that child-hood landscape and the gift of hearing
and seeing wandering flocks of Snow Buntings. As an early teen-ager,
I would take winter walks out into the fields, just to see what I might see
(as I dutifully recorded in my brown, Spiral Notebook.)
Just today, I took out that now tattered and yellowing-page notebook,
and re-read what I had written upon seeing a flock of Snow Buntings.
One phrase, in my scriggley handwriting (with misspelled words, of
course!) was they are as the snow themselves.
I have since discovered that Snow Buntings breed and nest in the Arctic
and are the most northern small bird to do so. (In winter, they wander
as far south as they have to, in order to find food.)
I would share with you one of my favorite poems I wrote four years ago.
That old, brown Spiral notebook was open alongside my, then brand new
computer keyboard. That poem is to be found somewhere in the middle
of my first published book of poetry, Prairie Sky, Prairie Ground, and
contains a phrase that gave the book its title.
Snow Buntings
They come like arctic gusts,
drifting, sweeping over fields,
to find weed and grass seed heads
rising above snow-swept land
Dense flocks of snowflake birds
swirl in graceful evolutions, climb skyward,
turn in unison, spiraling down to land -
a joyful restlessness
among prairie sky and ground.
Rushing sounds of
white wings, at one with winter,
their unbroken flight-chorus
of chirps and purring -
sounds like laughter of
happy children.
(Comments are welcome! Just click on
the word "comment" below.)
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Annual Report of the Minnesota Pothole Association (MPA)
The Minnesota Pothole Association (MPA - not to be confused with the Minnesota Psychological Association, whose focus is potholes of the psyche) held their Annual Meeting on Groundhog Day. For those unfamiliar with Minnesota winters, Groundhog Day marks the halfway point of the winter season - and a good time to review that status of potholes. Since the sun had been shining during the day, the promise of only 6 more weeks of winter was received with some disappointment by members of MPA.
Attendance was higher than usual this year, because of increased interest in the state of metro streets and highways. The room buzzed with excitement during the pre-meeting reception, while people enjoyed chocolate-chunk delights and lemonade. Numerous antedotes about personal experiences with potholes (PEPs) were shared with each other.
The meeting was called to order and reports were received. The I-Team began the evening. They had been commissioned to investigate rumors of a ten-foot pothole in Minneapolis. Unfortunately they could not locate this pothole after diligent searching and suspect it is temporarily filled with icy debris. A motion was made and seconded that the I-Team continue to search during the warm weather predicted in the next few days (32 degrees possible). Such a historic sighting needs to be documented.
Next, the Census Committee gave their report. This year has seen a 37% increase in potholes over two feet deep and a 57% increase in smaller varieties. They had spoken with local auto-repair shops, which have seen a rise in structural repairs. It is good to hear, since the abundance of potholes has helped lower Minnesota's unemployment rate below that of warmer states. The Committee proposed that MPA institute a Christmas Pothole Count, emulating the Audubon Society's annual Christmas Bird Count. A subcommittee was appointed to secure space for people to gather and receive their assignments.
A government representative from St. Paul reported on new techniques for filling potholes during cold weather. Trucks are equipped with hot asphalt rather than a colder variety. The hope is that by using heated material, filled potholes will last longer than the usual seven to ten days. Minneapolis declined to send a representative to speak to the group.
The Salt Committee reported that Minnesota is sticking to salt distribution regardless of its ecological impact. Fortunately, the state has declined to use the pickle juice or beet juice being tried in more desperate states. MPA will send their condolences to these states. Imagine the spring landscape tinged with red rather than green, when the snow begins to melt.
Gedney pickle company also expressed their gratitude for continued use of salt, as they feared the stench of vinegar might lower pickle sales when the baseball season begins. Discussion followed regarding the impact of using using pickle juice laced with garlic. Some attendees thought that its use might increase pizza deliveries, thus increasing the number of potholes due to increased traffic. Someone raised the issue of whether the newly-elected Minnesota Republican legislature with its focus of job-creation might pick up on this statistic and introduce a bill requiring use of garlic pickle juice during the remainder of the pothole season. After all it would be a double boost to unemployment - in both the pizza and pothole industries.
The Black Ice Committee had a more somber set of statistics. Although the cold has produced an increased number of potholes, it also has meant more black ice. Combine black ice and potholes and you have a lethal combination. Almost as bad as drunken driving.
The R&D Committee completed the round of reports. MPA's current test projects include the correlation of various makes of vehicles with pothole size. Their findings suggest that size does NOT matter. Speed combined with driver-skill was another issue. Drivers who grew up driving amusement park bumper cars were found to have an edge over other drivers. Drivers with cell phones were in the riskiest group. This latter group spent a greater percentage of their income on auto repairs.
A motion was introduced from the floor to send a letter to President Obama, requesting more highway stimulus dollars. A heated debate followed. Some felt Minnesota ought to start living within its budget and that some of the filling of potholes ought to be shouldered by local neighborhoods. Others felt that the President had enough on his hands with the crisis in the Middle East and that he probably would not read such a letter. Others were enthusiastic about the possibility of more federal money and felt that the year's statistics collected by MPA would support such a proposition. The motion finally was tabled when it became evident that no satisfactory consensus could be reached.
After some discussion, MPA members voted to retain the current slate of officers, who were commended for doing excellent work over the past year.
Comments welcome. Just click the word comments at the bottom.
Attendance was higher than usual this year, because of increased interest in the state of metro streets and highways. The room buzzed with excitement during the pre-meeting reception, while people enjoyed chocolate-chunk delights and lemonade. Numerous antedotes about personal experiences with potholes (PEPs) were shared with each other.
The meeting was called to order and reports were received. The I-Team began the evening. They had been commissioned to investigate rumors of a ten-foot pothole in Minneapolis. Unfortunately they could not locate this pothole after diligent searching and suspect it is temporarily filled with icy debris. A motion was made and seconded that the I-Team continue to search during the warm weather predicted in the next few days (32 degrees possible). Such a historic sighting needs to be documented.
Next, the Census Committee gave their report. This year has seen a 37% increase in potholes over two feet deep and a 57% increase in smaller varieties. They had spoken with local auto-repair shops, which have seen a rise in structural repairs. It is good to hear, since the abundance of potholes has helped lower Minnesota's unemployment rate below that of warmer states. The Committee proposed that MPA institute a Christmas Pothole Count, emulating the Audubon Society's annual Christmas Bird Count. A subcommittee was appointed to secure space for people to gather and receive their assignments.
A government representative from St. Paul reported on new techniques for filling potholes during cold weather. Trucks are equipped with hot asphalt rather than a colder variety. The hope is that by using heated material, filled potholes will last longer than the usual seven to ten days. Minneapolis declined to send a representative to speak to the group.
The Salt Committee reported that Minnesota is sticking to salt distribution regardless of its ecological impact. Fortunately, the state has declined to use the pickle juice or beet juice being tried in more desperate states. MPA will send their condolences to these states. Imagine the spring landscape tinged with red rather than green, when the snow begins to melt.
Gedney pickle company also expressed their gratitude for continued use of salt, as they feared the stench of vinegar might lower pickle sales when the baseball season begins. Discussion followed regarding the impact of using using pickle juice laced with garlic. Some attendees thought that its use might increase pizza deliveries, thus increasing the number of potholes due to increased traffic. Someone raised the issue of whether the newly-elected Minnesota Republican legislature with its focus of job-creation might pick up on this statistic and introduce a bill requiring use of garlic pickle juice during the remainder of the pothole season. After all it would be a double boost to unemployment - in both the pizza and pothole industries.
The Black Ice Committee had a more somber set of statistics. Although the cold has produced an increased number of potholes, it also has meant more black ice. Combine black ice and potholes and you have a lethal combination. Almost as bad as drunken driving.
The R&D Committee completed the round of reports. MPA's current test projects include the correlation of various makes of vehicles with pothole size. Their findings suggest that size does NOT matter. Speed combined with driver-skill was another issue. Drivers who grew up driving amusement park bumper cars were found to have an edge over other drivers. Drivers with cell phones were in the riskiest group. This latter group spent a greater percentage of their income on auto repairs.
A motion was introduced from the floor to send a letter to President Obama, requesting more highway stimulus dollars. A heated debate followed. Some felt Minnesota ought to start living within its budget and that some of the filling of potholes ought to be shouldered by local neighborhoods. Others felt that the President had enough on his hands with the crisis in the Middle East and that he probably would not read such a letter. Others were enthusiastic about the possibility of more federal money and felt that the year's statistics collected by MPA would support such a proposition. The motion finally was tabled when it became evident that no satisfactory consensus could be reached.
After some discussion, MPA members voted to retain the current slate of officers, who were commended for doing excellent work over the past year.
Comments welcome. Just click the word comments at the bottom.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Encounter Along A Path While Looking for Spring
A year ago this coming March, Elizabeth and I had gone on a road-trip to look for spring. We took a week meandering along and among the southwest's incredible mountains and rivers. No plan for any day except to pay attention, enjoy watching the beginnings of spring, (Elizabeth taking lots of photos, of course!), to explore, and take some easy hikes. We were in familiar country. We had tent-camped throughout the area in much earlier days.We remembered the time we explored Arches National Park and had begun walking a slot canyon trail on a windy day. As we tried to pass through a narrow passageway to enter the canyon . . . the wind was so fierce that it literally blew us over. We got back up on our feet and turned back. But, that was then -
On this trip, we decided to try it again! We found the same slot canyon. It was beautiful with the wind-eroded rocks towering above us, glimpses of the blue sky ahead, contorted pines and blooming flowers lining the trail. The intense sun warmed the rock walls along the trail . . . and that was when I saw the little lizard pressed against a rock. I pretended not to see it. Here is a little poem I wrote:
* * * * * * *
Encounter Along A Path
A small, dull brown-green lizard
atop a sun-bathed red rock.
Motionless - almost.
It turns its head toward me,
then quickly away.
Motionless again - almost.
I hold my breath, watch
to see if it is breathing.
The lizard raises and
lowers its body in
a pumping motion.
I see its bright green
underside.
I step away, leave.
A small, dull brown-green lizard
atop a sun-bathed red rock.
* * * * * *
What are the ways that one captures the moments in life? Photographs, paintings, journaling, videos, poetry,
or by just holding the memories in your mind for as long as you can? And - why do it at all? Just explore, by yourself or with someone you care about . . .
Comments are welcome! Just click on the word "comment(s)" below
On this trip, we decided to try it again! We found the same slot canyon. It was beautiful with the wind-eroded rocks towering above us, glimpses of the blue sky ahead, contorted pines and blooming flowers lining the trail. The intense sun warmed the rock walls along the trail . . . and that was when I saw the little lizard pressed against a rock. I pretended not to see it. Here is a little poem I wrote:
* * * * * * *
Encounter Along A Path
A small, dull brown-green lizard
atop a sun-bathed red rock.
Motionless - almost.
It turns its head toward me,
then quickly away.
Motionless again - almost.
I hold my breath, watch
to see if it is breathing.
The lizard raises and
lowers its body in
a pumping motion.
I see its bright green
underside.
I step away, leave.
A small, dull brown-green lizard
atop a sun-bathed red rock.
* * * * * *
What are the ways that one captures the moments in life? Photographs, paintings, journaling, videos, poetry,
or by just holding the memories in your mind for as long as you can? And - why do it at all? Just explore, by yourself or with someone you care about . . .
Comments are welcome! Just click on the word "comment(s)" below
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