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Journal of a Sabbatical |
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August 23, 2000 |
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donuts |
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Adopt these cats at Merrimack River Feline Rescue Society Today's Bird Sightings: Today's Reading: Leap by Terry Tempest Williams Today's Starting Pitcher: Tomo Ohka when it stops raining Plum Island Bird List
Copyright © 2000, Janet I. Egan |
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Miss Newburyport is mellowly sleeping in the laundry room, which seems to be her new spot. She's really gotten much calmer and friendlier lately. I can picture her in someone's home as long as they weren't expecting her to snuggle into their laps. Even Elly and Regan, two of the more skittish cats, are getting friendlier. Weather? Phase of the moon? Sunspots? When Kendra returns with the donuts, I give about a third of mine to Sandy in tiny bite size pieces before it even crosses my mind to eat some of it myself. He must have strong psychic powers all right. He gets donut crumbs from Chris and me until he's satisfied then moves over to the big yellow bucket for a snooze. There's no place to put the clean laundry fresh out of the dryer waiting to be folded so Roy and Chris and Bob stack it on top of the big yellow bucket behind Sandy. He likes the warmth so they pile some on top of him. He really digs it, reminding everybody of Chloe whose idea of a good time was Dunkin Donuts coffee followed by a romp in the warm clean laundry. These cats really know the simple pleasures in life. I finish cleaning, spend more time playing with Titan while Sandy sleeps on a chair, find no new cats to photograph for the web site, check my mailbox, and decide it's time for lunch. I can tell because despite my two thirds of a donut, I'm starving. I eat two thirds of my veggie chili at The Tannery Cafe because it's way too spicy. No, I don't save the other third for Sandy. Chili is not his thing. It's really clouded up since this morning, but the rain is supposed to start late this afternoon and I figure I have time to look for birds and photograph more weeds before it starts.
It finally does start to rain later on. |
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OK,
I'm convinced Sandy has hypnotic powers like those cats in
the Sylvia comic strip. He's sitting there on top of
the fridge supervising the dishes. Kendra comes in from the
other room and starts petting him. He's in a good mood so
doesn't scare her off. Suddenly, apropos of nothing we've
been talking about, Kendra announces "I should go get donuts
today." Tell me Sandy didn't make her say that. How does he
do it?
Titan is running and jumping all over the place. I play with
him and have him doing complete somersaults two feet off the
floor. He has energy to spare. When Sandy loses interest in
supervising the sink, Titan comes by to keep an eye on
things. When I'm almost done with the last of the community
litter boxes, he can wait no longer and jumps into the sink.
Fortunately all the bleachy water, except for a few soap
suds, makes it down the drain before he tries drinking any
of it. He likes to drink from the faucet so I turn it back
on for him.
Despite
the fact that the shorebird migration is in full swing,
there is exactly one bird in the salt pannes when I get
there, a lesser yellowlegs. I'm not finding many birds
except the tree swallows. The tree swallows are more like a
medium through which I walk. I can be in air, in water, or
in tree swallows. Today I'm in tree swallows. Starlings
descend in giant clouds, but the look and feel is menacing
and weird like they've finally taken over the earth. And
mosquitoes swarm all over me at the Pines Trail - a menacing
cloud of mosquitoes. I jump back in the car and spray on the
deet before photographing some Joe Pye Weed in with the big
field of purple loosestrife. Miraculously, not a one of them
bites me.
The
purple-stemmed aster is in bloom now. It definitely wasn't a
week ago. Come to think of it, I actively looked for it
yesterday and didn't see any so maybe it came out today.
Some of my favorite weeds have gone by already, but there
are still fall ones that haven't bloomed yet. I don't know
what I'm going to do with all these weed pictures besides
put them in the journal, but I'm at the point now where I
have to look hard to find ones I haven't done yet.
When
I stop to photograph the purple-stemmed aster, I notice a
butterfly perched on some goldenrod nearby, an American
copper. The wind picks up and the goldenrod waves back and
forth as I come closer but the butterfly doesn't take off. I
guess this still qualifies as a weed picture because it's
got goldenrod in it. By this time it's so overcast that I
start to feel sleepy so I head home.