The beginning of wisdom, as the Chinese say, is calling things by their right names. (E. O. Wilson, as cited by Elizabeth J. Rosenthal, Birdwatcher: The Life of Roger Tory Peterson)

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Same Water Strider As Yesterday?

October 9, 2010.  Saturday.
Situation:  Moi made an appointment for me to go early this morning to a local office supply store to have my computer diagnosed for any problems.  I don’t know how to hook my computer back up (afraid I might break something), so I have to write this out long hand on a piece of scrap paper (before typing it up later on the computer – I hope I’ll be able to read my handwriting).  Moi and I both work tonight, but she has two other jobs beforehand.  I might pay a visit to one of her jobs because I understand they’re serving up free food.  I think it’s best if I take Mway for a walk now, 12:20.  I’ll have to change from my street clothes into my walking clothes, then back into my street clothes, then into my lounging-around clothes when I get back home, then finally into my work clothes for tonight – more changes of clothes than I like to make in a day.
State of the Path:  Stick to main path.  Fallen leaves grow thick just beyond the outbuilding, as well as along the creek.  Farm machinery makes noise in a cornfield, that and my boots crunching leaves are the main sounds.  Gnat-like insects plume in the sun.  Brown birds swoop through the maples.  Beyond the ridge, Mway stops to sniff weeds – about where the raccoon once was.  I try to prod her with the stick to get her to move along.  Give up, and walk past her.  She soon follows and passes me to beat me to the clearing.
State of the Creek:  I can see Mway slurping up water, view from the path – shows how much bushes and trees have become bare – wouldn’t have had this view in midsummer.  See one water strider – exact same one as yesterday?  Along narrows, see minnows darting about in pools – now where did they suddenly materialize from?
The Fetch:  Toss branch into tall goldenrod.  Mway operating slowly – takes time for her to rummage in weeds to retrieve stick.  I see her disappear from the path, see the goldenrod wiggling and jiggling, then see her reappear in the path.

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