Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-10-14

  • Most of the maples have dropped their leaves since I was last on the porch, but the towhee's breast still flickers rust-red in the lilac. #
  • The witch hazel beside the house is yellow with old leaves and new flowers. Chickadees forage along the woods' edge—wistful two-note songs. #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-10-07

  • Sunlight filtered through thin clouds—it's almost spring-like, apart from the yellow leaves, the goldenrod, a white-throated sparrow's song. #
  • Blastocyst: http://t.co/Hmj1lYKO The final installment in my Small World series, I suspect. Series link: http://t.co/c7kvZcuz #
  • Something glitters on a tansy stalk next to the porch: the hard foam surface of a praying mantis egg case. A tiny spider dangles alongside. #
  • The lilac trembles from rain without and a flock of migrant sparrows within. The stiltgrass in the yard seems redder than yesterday. #
  • I'm off for a week. Updates from the porch should resume on Oct. 9. #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-09-30

  • The trees at the edge of the woods are now an almost even mix of green and yellow leaves—until the sun comes out and turns them all to gold. #
  • @canislatrans Hey Chris, is there an RSS feed for just your contributions to Pharyngula? in reply to canislatrans #
  • @canislatrans O.K. If I could even just sort by author at the site, that would be great. Nothing against P.Z., of course, just limited time. in reply to canislatrans #
  • I'm looking at a walnut when it lets go and thuds to the ground—the branch rocks like a diving board. A vireo calls softly from the woods. #
  • An ode to everybody's favorite doll-like vegetable product: baby carrots. http://t.co/gvGkRH1R #
  • Four bluebirds take turns checking out the empty flicker hole in the dead elm—a winter nest site, maybe? A raven flies past, croaking. #
  • An agitated Carolina wren progresses from between-station radio static noises to musical chirps, then silence. A freight train wails. #
  • A cranefly drifts through the yard so slowly, I wonder if it's asleep. A lilac limb wobbles with warblers—don't ask me what kind. #
  • Some very little-known facts about thimbles—my Small World series lurches onward: http://t.co/VRleA6xY #
  • With the walnut leaves down, I can once again see the line of aspens: still green, still full of ambiguous gestures. (Hello? Get lost?) #
  • @arriabelli @northsidevoyeur Actually, I've been known to say that on occasion. Birds can absolutely be assholes, just like anyone else. in reply to arriabelli #
  • @arriabelli Thanks for reading. in reply to arriabelli #
  • From up behind my parents' house, some vaguely melodic notes: a blue jay? Or my father whistling as he hangs out the laundry? #
  • Dead leaf (videohaiku): http://t.co/NZac4OhT The presence of a leaf reminds a caterpillar of some unfinished business. #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-09-23

  • From just inside the woods, a bird call I don't recognize—an anxious couple of notes. The purple asters slowly unclench to an overcast sky. #
  • Three butterfly milkweed pods have split open, and dangle clouds of down. From the neighbors', the howl and mutter of a weed whacker. #
  • Thinking there's something chewing on the leaves outside my window, I get the flashlight and discover rain. Time for bed. #
  • Fun fact: In the 18th century, porter was known as entire butt beer. #
  • "Entire" because it was a combination of 1st, 2nd and 3rd runnings, and "butt" because it was matured for months in 108-gallon casks—butts. #
  • A dozen vultures fresh from their communal roost circle low overhead, wings shining white whenever they tilt toward the sun—angels of death. #
  • @tejucole Need to change your bio, then. Unless these are all from a 1912 Nigeria. in reply to tejucole #
  • Two flocks of local geese flying in tandem, one following each ridge, skimming the treetops: their raucous cries come from all directions. #
  • Latest in my "small world" series: Wingnut. http://t.co/nYIVlv7O #
  • The walnut tree behind the house keeps knocking on my bedroom roof with its fat green fists. I start thinking fondly of the chainsaw. #
  • My mother emerges from the weeds beside the springhouse with a handful of mint. Behind her at the woods' edge, a red-tailed hawk takes wing. #
  • @EquosDesigns Spearmint and peppermint love wet places, no doubt about it. in reply to EquosDesigns #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-09-16

  • Scattered drips of dew from the top roof. A doe and fawn ghost by along the woods' edge, the fawn's spots as faded as snakeroot flowers. #
  • New poem: Bullet Casing. http://t.co/h3A6V3u1 "Squat bottle. Who drained its amnesia?" #
  • A downy woodpecker lands in the dead cherry tree. She trills and the rotten limbs tremble, taps and they make hardly a sound. #
  • As sunlight reaches the forest floor, the chipmunks emerge and begin to chip, their metronomes mingling—a dry waterfall of sound. #
  • @kitabet Thanks. I forgot I did that. in reply to kitabet #
  • A squirrel creeps up to the flicker hole in the dead elm, but another squirrel pops out chittering and gives chase through the treetops. #
  • Took us just seven years. MT @qarrtsiluni Qarrtsiluni has now published more than 800 contributors. http://t.co/FTTAXQ1B #
  • @marlyyoumans Thanks, Marly. It's definitely gotten big and gangly! in reply to marlyyoumans #
  • As the sun climbs through the trees, small patches of sunlight appear and disappear in the springhouse meadow, setting the goldenrod aglow. #
  • We don't hear much from the highway these days. What I hear: Canada geese off the north, a train whistle, two kinds of crickets. #
  • The first small holes through to the ridge-top sky have appeared in the green wall opposite my porch. The sound of falling acorns. #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-09-09

  • An underwing moth rests under the roof; I get out the guide. Could it be Charming, Girlfriend, The Bride, Oldwife, Sad or Sordid Underwing? #
  • The Erebinae are like some inter-species opera. There's also The Betrothed, The Sweetheart, The Old Maid, Tearful, Youthful, Black Witch… #
  • I think the one I saw was The Sweetheart, but don’t hold me to that. #
  • I consulted the beautiful new Peterson Field Guide to Moths of Northeastern North America by David Beadle and @seabrookeleckie#
  • …and fell down a rabbit-hole of wondrous forms and bizarre and poetic names. (Abrupt Brother! Spun Glass Slug Moth! Powdered Bigwig!) #
  • @HeracliteanFire Do you get the feeling that lepidopterists are frustrated poets? in reply to HeracliteanFire #
  • Moving Poems profiled in Connotation Press: http://t.co/WsskYbFK #videopoetry #
  • A squirrel leaping between treetops miscalculates and falls 40 feet to the ground. It lies stunned for a minute, walnut still in its teeth. #
  • @CollinKelley Terrific collection! Hope they'll follow up with a list of those with the best usability—interesting how often the 2 conflict. in reply to CollinKelley #
  • @alembic I'm drinking imperial stout tonight, too. (From Brooklyn Brewery—10% ABV.) Cheers! in reply to alembic #
  • Another dark, humid morning. A deer comes crashing through the laurel, turns and doubles back, as if trying to shake her entourage of flies. #
  • Manual: How to Listen (Swoon/Dave Bonta) at 22 Magazine's blog: http://t.co/7HjorGle #videopoetry #
  • @kiefpief Well, gosh. Thanks for reading. in reply to kiefpief #
  • The distant gargle of compression release engine brakes. Dark clouds moving very slowly, as if deliberating where to drop their rain. #
  • When I come out, a committee of flies is convening on my chair, despite the chill. Ten minutes pass without a single bird call, then phoebe. #
  • To be small is to be distant / & vice versa. http://t.co/YM80ULWZ #
  • Fog from the valley spills over the ridgetop and advances on the porch. The jays start calling, unable to see each other in adjacent trees. #
  • The hairs on my arm tower over the scarlet mite wandering among them. The air shimmers with what the Chinese call maomaoyu—fine hair rain. #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-09-02

  • A squirrel hangs by its hind feet to pick a pair of walnuts, drops one, climbs off with the other in its teeth. The day darkens into rain. #
  • Love After 50 (videopoem): http://t.co/YYRmvkO3 #
  • How many people or animals are taking a crap in this painting? I count seven. #whyRenaissanceartrules #BruegelFTW http://t.co/a3wvo5dS #
  • @SteveHuff Yeah, but that's great for the economy of Mali. And Mali fucking rules, even if they're kind of falling apart at the moment. in reply to SteveHuff #
  • Coleman Hawkins FTW. That is all. #
  • @ebertchicago Obama is the only sane conservative on the ballot. Kudos to Crist for seeing that. in reply to ebertchicago #
  • A pileated woodpecker comes cackling into the dead elm, then quietly gets to work: hop down the trunk a few inches, listen for ants, repeat. #
  • Some cool facts about pileateds from the always-reliable Cornell Lab of Ornithology website: http://t.co/FdcYgjBL #
  • Cool and clear except for a few scraps of cloud and a pair of ravens high overhead, their hollow, metallic croaks like steampunk crows. #
  • @Radio_Nowhere_1 @OpenBookJen Hey, thanks! in reply to Radio_Nowhere_1 #
  • Around the side of the house, a male goldfinch gorges on spicebush berries—silent for once, as if unwilling to share his find. #
  • I'm collecting proverbs that reference beer and brewing. Let me know of any others I should include here: http://t.co/uzkIGYtI #
  • Cold and clear. A small, whitish gnat zigzags toward the woods, following a sunbeam like an anadromous fish ascending its native creek. #
  • Bluejays yelling in the treetops. Wind speed is less than three knots, but still there's a steady shower of yellow walnut leaves. #
  • Vagina Dialogue: http://t.co/yKeDQSnt (Still wrestling with my inner pedant, who tried to insist I use the proper word, "vulva".) #
  • Something in the lilac attracts half-hearted alarms from a chickadee, two titmice and a wren. The lilac leaves hang limp in the humid air. #
  • @SteveHuff And we thank you for all 47,447. in reply to SteveHuff #
  • Qarrtsiluni is open for submissions on the theme of Animals in the City, ed. by David Cazden and @BluegrassPoet http://t.co/gNGQ88kS #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-08-26

  • I get up to pick the ripe berries on the spicebush in my garden. Allspice aroma wafts up from the red drupes as I pinch them off the twigs. #
  • 9:40. The strange, pipe organ-like moan of a steam locomotive blowing the Plummer's Hollow crossing raises the hair on the back of my neck. #
  • I'd completely forgotten about it until I heard that whistle from a mile and a half away. RT @NickelPlate765 Approaching Tyrone. [9:32 AM] #
  • Had I remembered & gone down to see it, tho, I wouldn't know what it sounded like from here—a sound that haunted the hollow for 100+ years. #
  • Tent caterpillar webs billow, white as sails—still full of the dawn fog. Two nuthatches kvetch back and forth at the woods' edge. #
  • Sunbeams through the fog. The thin bull thistle beside the road with its one purple head sways ever so slightly into and out of the light. #
  • Sound is out of the east. And even first thing in the morning, the machines at the quarry sound tired. They bellow. They groan. They keen. #
  • Love after 40 doesn’t make the pop charts. It’s too absurd. http://t.co/e2shvERZ #
  • @SteveHuff The same way chickens do: one peck at a time. For the truly vicious, teeth are optional. in reply to SteveHuff #
  • A murky sunrise. Gnatcatchers high in the tulip tree dart and hover, tiny silhouettes against a cross-hatch of stratus clouds. #
  • "Fulgurite": a decidely odd look at sex on the beach. http://t.co/n0Lp99GM #
  • @Zirconium Thanks for sharing that, Peg. Much appreciated. in reply to Zirconium #
  • @mernathomas Hey, thanks for sharing that. in reply to mernathomas #
  • A small brown butterfly flutters low over the porch floor, checking out the three brown walnut leaflets, one of which trembles in its wake. #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-08-19

  • Even hanging upside-down from a Canada thistle and stuffing her beak with thistledown, the goldfinch never stops chittering. #
  • Another cool, Septemberish morning. A chipping sparrow lands on the garden walk beside the porch and gives me a quick, quizzical look. #
  • A large praying mantis at the edge of the porch, near where I sit, turns its head to watch me with unblinking, space-alien eyes. #
  • cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket cricket CROW CROW CROW cricket cricket cricket crick #
  • Red leaves in the yard—the red of spring rather than autumn. The multiflora rose, pruned once again by passing deer, struggles to re-leaf. #
  • All the missing videos at http://t.co/foyFUDuJ ain't my fault; Vimeo is down. See http://t.co/TXjr92b3 (Best of luck to @Vimeo engineers!) #
  • A hummingbird sits on the tip of one of the dead cherry's few remaining twigs, like a fat green leaf with the stem pointing the wrong way. #
  • Join me in helping to send Heather Haley (founder of Visible Verse) to Buenos Aires for Videobardo on @indiegogo http://t.co/rGBVGtFA #
  • A hawk circles over the ridge, higher and higher, until it appears smaller and fainter than the white blood cells criss-crossing my retina. #

Twitter Weekly Updates for 2012-08-12

  • the locusts look as if / they’ve been eaten by locusts: / leafminers http://t.co/uMheIYYQ #
  • Just after daylight, the sound of a shower approaching and petering out before it reaches the porch.Two chickadees flit through the bushes. #
  • Screw (a political poem): http://t.co/Kzma2DG2 Too obvious? Maybe. #
  • @jacsongs Thanks! in reply to jacsongs #
  • Sunlight struggles through the haze. The large black-and-blue butterfly known as a red-spotted purple keeps returning to my red porch floor. #
  • I mentioned red-spotted purples. Here they are in a #videopoem by Peter Stephens, @SlowReads : http://t.co/Cu2fIhUm #
  • Sweet flag: http://t.co/viI2syk3 In which I share a credo of sorts. #
  • The sun climbs through the big red maple. A young Carolina wren sits on the springhouse gable, still and quiet, just swiveling its head. #
  • @wilfulblindness @awilsonpoet Thanks, Anna! in reply to wilfulblindness #
  • @kitabet Hey, glad you liked. in reply to kitabet #
  • A half-grown fawn, no mother in sight, wanders through the foxtail millet and into the woods, its fading spots glimmering in the deep shade. #
  • The first blooming tall goldenrod glows yellow at the woods' edge. In a cherry tree, a fall webworm tent enshrouds a garland of dead leaves. #
  • New poem: Shark's Tooth. http://t.co/9l8hP2SA #
  • A shimmer of rain. One of the lower branches on the big tulip tree has been stripped of bark, but its leaves haven't gotten the news. #
  • (Porcupine? Deer standing on its hind legs? Could be either one.) #
  • Another quiet morning as the songbirds go through their annual molt. Cicada. Yellow-billed cuckoo. Last night's rain glistens on the grass. #