The Nature of Things

Kate Morton's gothic tale of a haunted house encompasses over a hundred and fifty years of the house's history and a bewildering plethora of characters who have lived in it or whose lives have been touched by it. It all kicks off in the summer of 1862 when a talented young artist named Edward Radcliffe travels with an entourage of friends in tow to a house called Birchwood Manor, located on the banks of the Upper Thames. The plan is that they will spend a relaxing month in the house, but before that month is over their best-laid plans have gone seriously awry. One woman has been shot dead, another one has disappeared, and a valuable family heirloom has gone missing. These events will haunt the next century and a half. In the present day (2017) we meet Elodie, an archivist of the estate of a Victorian activist and reformer named James Stratton. We learn that Elodie is the daughter of a famous deceased cellist and that she is engaged to someone named Alastair whom we never actual...

Today marks the 100th anniversary of the Armistice that ended World War I, the War to End All Wars. We've been at war almost constantly since then. World War I produced some wonderful writers, including poets. One of those poets was Wilfred Owen. Owen was born in 1893 and he served in those awful trenches among the mud, the blood, the gas, and the other horrors of that war. And still he found time to write poetry. He died in France on November 4, 1918, just one week before the Armistice. This poem was published posthumously. The title of the poem comes from a line from the Roman poet Horace: "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori," translated as "It is sweet and honorable to die for one's country."  How much sweeter it would have been to live for it. Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen, 1893-1918 Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards ou...

A roundup of the week's news of birds and the environment : A whole gang of winter visitors made their first appearance of the season in my backyard this week.  They were led by the Ruby-crowned Kinglet , a wonderful little bird that is often the first of our winter residents to show up. I've never actually been lucky enough to photograph one of these birds with that red crown exposed so I stole this one from eBird.com. I also stole this photo of the Blue-gray Gnatcatcher from the same source. None of my pictures from previous years were good enough.  The first Eastern Phoebes of the season were very vocal around the neighborhood this week. (And this is my photo from a previous year.) I took this picture of a Red-breasted Nuthatch the last time I had them visiting in winter two years ago. They don't get this far south every year, but it seems that this year we've hit the jackpot. I've been hearing them calling around the yard all week.  It's looking like this...

Six years ago, in July 2012, I read and reviewed Barbara Tuchman's book, The March of Folly: From Troy to Vietnam . It hit me right in the solar plexus. Rereading my review today, a couple of days after our most recent election, I was once again struck by Tuchman's clear-eyed view of history and of human nature. Her observations are just as fresh today as they were when this book was published in 1984 or when I read it in 2012. I venture to predict that they will remain fresh as long as humans continue to exist. A couple of sentences of my own review seem particularly cogent and applicable today, also: " When we see or hear evidence that contradicts our ingrained beliefs and what we want to believe because it makes us feel good, we just ignore it. That is the essence of human folly." ~~~ Monday, July 23, 2012 The March of Folly: From Troy to Vietnam by Barbara Tuchman: A review George Santayana wrote, "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it....

Queen butterflies continue to flood my backyard with their beauty. I counted around a dozen today. It is impossible to get a completely accurate count, because they just won't stand still for it. They are indeed lovely and I never tire of watching them. But in addition to the Queens, I'm seeing an increase in the numbers of Monarchs passing through the garden. The Monarchs like the almond verbena, too. And as the Monarchs pass through on their way to Mexico, they are leaving me gifts in the form of their eggs. I've been finding caterpillars on my milkweed plants over the last few days. These two were quite large when I first saw them. When I checked on them a couple of days later, they were gone - already moved on to form their chrysalises I'm sure.  There was a smaller sibling still on the plant. The chrysalis of the Monarch is as striking as the butterfly or the caterpillar. In this one you can see the butterfly already almost fully formed and ready to emerge. I'm...

Sara Paretsky is one of my long-time literary crushes. I've been reading her V.I. Warshawski novels since almost their beginning back in the 1980s. She has never let me down. Oh, sure, I have enjoyed some of the books more than others, but there is not a stinker among them. One of the things that I enjoy about V.I. is that she has been allowed to age, more or less in real time. By now (and the present book takes place in the present time - the Trump era) she's getting a bit long in the tooth, not unlike many of us, but her passion for justice and for serving her clients with honor remains undimmed. Her latest case involves a heady mix of stock scams and painstakingly detailed insurance fraud by high rollers, the scapegoating and demonizing of immigrants (particularly Middle Eastern immigrants), an out-of-control ICE, theft of archaeological treasures, Russian mobsters, kidnapping and sexual abuse of young girls, and, of course, murder. It's the murder that initially gets V....

There were more new butterflies in the garden over the weekend. It seems the Queens I showed you on Friday were just the leading edge of this "invasion."  There were a number of these fragile-looking butterflies fluttering around the backyard. This is the Dog Face Sulphur. They are indeed fluttery, constantly in motion. Those wings are always going, so it was really hard to get any good pictures of them. They just wouldn't pose. They are called Dog Face because of the pattern on their wings. That dark spot represents the dog's eye. I was able to get some fairly clear ventral views of the small (2 - 2 3/4 inches wingspread) butterfly, but... ...this is typical of my dorsal shots. Very blurry. Image by arizonensis.org. So, I resorted to this image from the internet to show you the dog face pattern. Think of a poodle with its mouth slightly open. See the image on each wing? These butterflies are supposedly around this area from March to December, but I really only see t...