Audio Version of Losing Touch.
August 22, 2006
It was an early August morning
and a low mist hung still over the pond.
The water surface was glassy smooth as I paddled
to a shallow, sheltered portion of the south shore.
There was something different about the water surface here.
It was covered with tiny bubbles.
I sat and pondered this anomaly.
Could it be that the mud was out-gassing for some reason?
No.
So, what then?
I scanned the surface of the water, and then I saw it.
A ripple.
Then, a snapping turtle snout appeared,
exhaled and took in fresh air, then sank again.
A few seconds later the turtle looked as if it were doing
a headstand in the water.
Ooh, I thought, “It’s catching fish.”
No…that’s not it.
Because now there are two shells,
belly to belly with sharp, clawed feet
clinging to each of them.
Then, two heads appeared.
Lots of twisting and turning,
dunking and surfacing.
Ohhhh….they must be flirting with each other!
Then, two hours later,
after traversing a large part of the shallows,
still in a clumsy embrace,
all became quiet.
Mating had begun.
Snapping turtle love.
Audio Version of Snapping Turtle Love.
August 20, 2006 - aka: The Greatest Man in My Life
Today is the 3rd anniversary of the death of my beloved father, Eugene F. Cleversey (aka Dad, aka Beansie). It is a rainy day today and I feel as if the skies are weeping along with me. This is always the most somber day of the year for me as I miss him very much. But…I do not want to feel sad all day, so I think of things about Dad that make me smile. I’ll share a few of these memories with you.
Memory 1: Dad would take our family toboganning, in a kamikaze fashion, down the far end of Lake Mac Gregor in Mahopac, NY, when I was a child. This was always semi-suicidal as we had to dodge trees before reaching the bottom of the hill. He brought out the dare devil in us all. And, then again, maybe this is why I have panic attacks when I drive a car! Hmmm … food for thought;-)
Memory 2: Dad absolutely loved living in Florida. When we moved there he decided that he was never going to wear long pants again (except to work at IBM, and only because they were rather stuffy about their dress code policy). So…we have photos of Dad in a dress jacket and shirt with bow tie, and shorts! This was his standard fancy dinner dress/going to funerals dress/ public speaking dress!
Memory 3: Dad loved to eat. He had a true appreciation of food, any food, especially if he could find it out in nature because it was free. One day, in the early ‘70’s, we took a nature walk somewhere in South Florida where we lived. Dad had heard that the fruit of the prickly pear cactus was edible. So, upon finding the fruit of several cacti, he carefully broke off the fruit without getting spines in his fingers, and put the fruits in his shirt pocket. Unbeknownst to Dad, the fruits of the prickly pear cacti also have prickly spines on them that are very small and not very evident upon casual observation. We continued our walk, and after awhile Dad was complaining of pain on his chest. He had lots of tiny, prickly spines embedded in his chest! This is one of those life lessons that he learned once and never forgot: “Not all free food is easy to come by!” And, to top it off, the darned cactus fruit wasn’t even that tasty! Dad never lived that one down. We still laugh about it.
Memory 4: Dad loved to go boating, just like his father, although he wasn’t quite as knowledgeable as his father. He and Mom bought a catamaran soon after moving to Florida. What a great boat it was. We were able to keep it at a friend’s house right next to the beach, in Boca Raton, where we resided. One gorgeous summer day we decided to all go sailing. When we got to the beach, we scanned the ocean and observed that there were no boats out. We thought this rather odd because the ocean looked nice and calm. What fools everyone else was to be missing out on such a beautiful day on the ocean! We shoved off and sailed out from shore. The farther out we got, the bigger the swells became, and the faster the current flowed. We decided we had better go back in as the ocean was rougher than we had imagined. So, we turned around and tacked for shore. The only problem was that we were now too far south of our starting point to be able to beach the boat near our put-in. We had to time our landing with the swells and surf. We almost ended up tipping end for end, but were able to jump off and pull the boat to shore just in the “TaDa…nick of time!” But, not before the front of the pontoons had slammed into the shallows with our stern standing almost vertical, and our mast snapping in two. Then, we had to drag the very heavy boat for probably a quarter mile up the beach. We learned that the locals knew a lot more about the ocean than we did!
Memory 5: Dad was a passionate environmentalist. He truly practiced what he preached. He instilled a love of nature in me that will never fade. He taught me to stand up for what I believe and to care about the planet we live on. It is because of he and my mother that I became a science teacher. They both allowed me to be “me” in every sense of the word. Our freezer was always filled with dead/frozen creatures (mixed in with Mom’s “secret stash” of chocolate), there was a lizard graveyard in the flower garden, and larger “road kill” animals were buried here and there throughout the yard for unearthing after their bones had been cleaned by ants (unfortunately, I forgot to mark most of the burial sites and whoever bought our Florida house probably found some interesting remains, because I never did;-). So…here’s to the greatest man in my life—my father. Cheers, Dad!
Audio Version of In Memory of…
August 22, 2005
Awaken early to sunlight
glinting on the horizon
of a mid-summer’s morn.
Hurry… beat the sun
grab the camera and run
run swiftly to the pond.
Jump into the kayak
push away from the dock
coast silently.
Breathe deeply
savor the scents of summer
sweet floral, damp soil.
The pond burps bubbles
of smelly methane gases
as my paddle digs deep.
Peat blow-ups slowly emerge
as pieces of pond bottom are dislodged
by pockets of methane gas.
New islands form
day by day, week by week
large, floating rafts of vegetation.
It is here that I wedge my kayak
between these islands
so great for espying wildlife.
Sunlight sparkles on a dew laced web
it dances on ripples of water
and reflects off a dragonfly’s eye.
A red-winged blackbird lands on a reed
and warbles a flute-like call
warning me that its nest is near.
I hold my ground as a beaver swims near
he slaps the water twice
sending a spray of mist my way.
To my right I see a doe
transfixed, we stare eye to eye
then she snorts and bounds away.
Overhead, an osprey soars on thermals
then lands high upon a dead pine
its high-pitched call reverberates over water.
I bask in the early light
as low wisps of fog slide past
enveloping me in their damp embrace.
All this, plus much more
is given to me
early on a summer’s morn.
Audio Version of Summer’s Morn.
June 20, 2005
aka: Signs of Seasonal Affective Disorder
Two months cold and wet
Dark, angry, brooding skies
Rivers rage as do I.
Where does the sun hide?
I have looked near and far.
My heart aches to find it.
Creeks overflow banks
Eyes brimming with plump tears
which flow to fill puddles.
Dark and dreary nights
No moon, no stars, just rain
Gentle and steady rain.
Will wildlife survive?
Mother nature caring
Mother nature cruel.
Nature calls, birds mate
Yellow-bellied sapsucker
Chicks constantly chirp.
Oh no… chirping stopped.
Parents strangely absent.
Chicks lay cold, dead; more tears.
Oh look, the sun shines
Briefly bringing strange warmth
Too late for baby chicks.
Run outside, catch rays
Of sun before cloud cover
Darkens skies again.
June nineteenth, clouds recede
Skies clear, Sun breaks out
Tears dry as solstice nears.
Audio Version of SAD.
April 22, 2005
The first day of spring dawned sunshiny and bright.
The skies were clear and the snow glistened white.
We walked through the forest on a well packed trail
as we followed a speckled dog with a wagging stumped tail.
And now, a month later the snow is but gone
except for a few patches in shade hanging on.
The speckled dog runs fast as she chases a crow
and when she gets hot she heads for the snow.
She stretches full out to get maximum cool
and if that’s not enough she heads for a pool
of vernal water quite cold to the touch
yet she immerses in it and likes it as such.
Caesar Pond is now open and completely ice free.
Its just perfect for a crazy dog’s spring swimming spree.
She approaches the dock’s edge with extreme trepidation
but eventually gives in to the blue water’s temptation.
She jumps from the dock like a bird soaring through air
and creates a big splash as she lands with a flair.
She dog paddles through the water as strong as she’s able
and snags a tennis ball with a Wilson brand label.
She swims happily to land leaving behind a large wake,
and when she arrives she gives a big shake.
Water droplets fly off in every direction
and bystanders are drenched to their great vexation.
When the speckled dog starts shivering to ward off the cold
we head back to our home drenched in warm strands of lit gold.
She lays in the garden next to spring bulbs in bloom
and soaks up the sun’s rays as she merrily grooms.
The day starts to wane and twilight begins
with spring peepers voicing their incessant din.
The speckled dog’s eyes begin to droop, then they close
and she falls deep into dreams of springtime doggy prose.
