Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the tag “nature”

09 Aug 2025
7 Comments

BBQ Feng Shui: Part Two


Recap: Part One addressed the situation of setting up a really boss BBQ area in the backyard only to have proximity issues with a new neighbor.

As Paul Harvey used to say:
“Now for the rest of the story…”

Got the table-

Ready—-

Got the BBQ kettle-

Set

Got a lovely setting-

No go-

Yes-it was a No Go for the BBQ area because of the neighbors.

They had moved in right after we had arranged everything and set up their living space so close to ours it was going to be awkward to hang out in our backyard.

Plus, wanting to be good neighbors we accommodated their needs to raise a family so we moved the BBQ grill around to the other side of the yard and forwent using the cozy cafe corner so diligently decorated. The magnificent fern in the background (an annual volunteer) clinched the Feng Shui vibe and we were sad to forego the Feng Shui. We abandoned all of it for the sake of the neighbors.

Granted, we still used our backyard, and unfortunately we got into the habit of peeking over towards the neighbors before we utilized our yard. Just trying to be considerate but maybe our intentions were misunderstood.

I thought we were coexisting pretty well until we noticed it was pretty quiet on our neighbors side.

Then we realized overnight the neighbors had disappeared. Just like that. Barely a month in residence and vanished.

We wondered if it was something we did or said and then we realized that it really comes down to location, location, location.

And our new neighbors must have decided to raise their family in a more private area.

I have to say though they did overstep their sense of boundaries as I did catch them sometimes cutting through our yard.

“Don’t mind me-just passing through.”

Yes, our new neighbors were a pair of Pee Wees—no relationship to Herman. Delightfully cute little birds who decided to build their nest on top of a utility ledge just above our outdoor dining area.

Gone. No forwarding address.

Mama bird diligently stayed nest bound for a couple of weeks and though we tried to be courteous and reduce our backyard use our birdie neighbors abandoned their efforts to set up their family.

Now that they are gone we miss their presence. Isn’t that how it goes? Something that was once inconvenient becomes favorably reflected upon once absent? I haven’t seen them around in the neighborhood. I do hope their new place worked out for them.

Have you ever had to readjust your lifestyle to accommodate a bird nest?

Posted in Reflections and tagged , , , ,
05 Aug 2025

Reader Roundup: July


A baker’s dozen read through July. Most were pretty good, a couple not so good, and a couple were really good reads.

Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton

This was my 100th read of the year!

An unexpected debut in that the author in all likelihood didn’t expect a book, a bestselling book at that, would be a result from her making the snap decision to rescue a leveret, a baby hare, seemingly abandoned in the February snows of the UK countryside.

By rescuing the leveret Dalton made a commitment to keeping it wild and not a pet, knowing that raising a hare in captivity is rarely successful. Hares haven’t been domesticated like rabbits, which Dalton acknowledged and respected. She changed her entire way of life to accommodate the leveret’s needs.

It’s a truly engaging story of how a wild animal can be nurtured by a human without becoming a Disney movie. Dalton writes with honesty and a poet’s eye as she describes her symbiotic life raising hare. She reflects on how it awakened her appreciation of nature, to take in the moment instead of pursuing her goals with blinders to the beauty surrounding her.

As for the hare? It lived an unusual life, benefitting from human companionship without obligation while keeping to its natural tendencies to raise a family and stretch its legs out about the countryside. Highly recommend for those who seek out positive reads involving nature.

The Cost of a Hostage by Iona Whishaw #12

Can’t Wait For the Next One

This twelfth entry of Lane Winslow and her adventures is a treat. The author places our plucky former SOE agent in Mexico with her inspector husband Frederick Darling. Kidnappings, bandits, nefarious war criminals are the main plot—meanwhile, in Nelson BC, Ames and Terrell man the police station, with the help of newly appointed April, and are caught up in their own crime situations of kidnapping and drug running. Both plots are well-paced. But what really stands out in this entry is the characterization,. Whishaw continues to develop and provide fully developed characters, each with their own distinctive personality.

It’s always difficult finishing one of these Lane Winslow books because it means having to wait at least another year for the next one.

I’m trying to par down my TBR list and yet so many tempting titles are out there! Anyone else have difficulty passing up a possible good read?

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05 Dec 2024
8 Comments

A Surfeit of Bees


I’m an appreciator of bees. They are truly amazing in design and admirable in purpose. I keep bees in mind when landscaping my backyard by maintaining a dedicated mound of lavender, not only because I find lavender to be a fairly perfect plant, I know bees enjoy lavender as well.

Once spring arrives and the lavender starts flowering I watch for the bees to arrive. It’s a Capistrano moment for me.

image: Stockcake

Some years it’s the tiny golden bees that are dominant. Occasionally there is a variety of bee with a bit of red to them. My favorites are the big, black bumblebees. They remind me of teddy bears, yet I wisely refrain my urge to hold them and hug them.

image: Bumblebee Conservation Trust

My penchant for bees came forth when I realized I’m reading my third book, or is it my fourth, where bees are a main focus. I scampered to my Goodreads list to confirm this epiphany. Actually, make that seven books.

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
Lily is introduced to the world of bees when she find refuge with three beekeepers and she learns about the power of not only bees but of women.

image: Amazon

The Bees by Laline Paul
The Bees is a creative tale of one bee, Flora 717, who is almost put to death for her lack of physical conformity but is spared and readers follow her rise from humble hive janitor to respected forager.

image: Amazon

The Music of Bees by Eileen Graven
Three people with deep hurts are brought together through the caring of bees.

image: Amazon

He Should of Told the Bees by Amanda Cox
A daughter working with her beekeeper is devastated when he passes away since impacts their business, and the hurt is even more deep upon the discovery she has a half-sister who wants to sell her interest in the business.

image: Amazon

Hour of the Bees by Lindsay Eagar
This middle grade novel features twelve year old Carol who unexpectedly finds herself helping her parents care for her grandfather who is slipping into dementia. A touch of magical realism as he believes the drought will end when the bees return.

image: Amazon

The Beekeeper’s Apprentice by Laurie King
Sherlock Holmes has retired, passing his days with keeping bees. His interest in mystery is awakened upon the arrival of a young woman who rivals his intuition and maybe even his intellect.

image: Amazon

The Keeper of Bees by Gene Porter-Stratton
A classic that is as beautiful in prose as it is rife with politically incorrect references; however, ignoring those or at least placing them in the context of the era it was written, a reader will delight in how a physically, emotionally, and spiritually wrecked WWI soldier is healed through the unexpected experience of caring for an ailing man’s bees.

image: Amazon

Are you a bee lover as well or have you read a book or two about bees? Please share the title, as I aim to keep on beeing a beeliver.

Posted in Animals, Reflections and tagged , , , , ,
17 May 2024
4 Comments

The Writing Life: Bird Buddies + One


Since retiring from teaching (two years come June) I am writing more, since my excuse of not having time because of how much time teaching requires is no longer my safety net of non productivity.

I diligently try to write from 9 am to 2 pm and even though the hubs will pop in and say a brief “hi” as he does retired guy stuff around the house, I have to say writing is quite solitary.

However, I have discovered writing has become less solitary since I have set up a bird feeder, birdbath, and squirrel platform outside my office window. My bird buddies, an ever changing rotation of chickadees, nuthatches, and sparrows brighten my day. The squirrel adds hilarity as it plots to get more than its fair share of birdseed.

The other day a white-crowned sparrow discovered the feeding station as well as wayward seeds on the windowsill. He hung out all day.

A personable sparrow

At times it seemed as if he was peering in at me. Wanting to encourage his return I sprinkled more birdseed on the window ledge. The sparrow did not return, instead the resident squirrel crashed the party.

Yes, it is big for a squirrel

I do not get as much work done, unfortunately, with all this distraction, but I did manage a blog post.

Posted in Reflections and tagged , , ,
15 Aug 2021

Backyard Visitor


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Backyard Visitor
Posted in Reflections, Seasons, summer, Uncategorized and tagged , , | Leave a comment
29 Apr 2016
2 Comments

POM: April 29


Emily. Emily. How amazing is the ability to capture a moment for all of us to wonder and appreciate centuries later. And to think your poems lay hidden, languishing until a sister realized they needed freedom not a burial.

A lane of Yellow led the eye (1650)

Emily Dickinson
 
A lane of Yellow led the eye
Unto a Purple Wood
Whose soft inhabitants to be
Surpasses solitude
If Bird the silence contradict
Or flower presume to show
In that low summer of the West
Impossible to know—
Posted in American poets, Poetry and tagged , ,
03 Apr 2015

NPM: #3–Serenity found in brooks…


Serenity

Edward Rowland Sill (1841-1887)

Brook,
Be still,—be still!
Midnight’s arch is broken
In thy ceaseless ripples.
Dark and cold below them                 
Runs the troubled water,—
Only on its bosom,
Shimmering and trembling,
Doth the glinted star-shine
                  Sparkle and cease.

                  Life,
Be still,—be still!
Boundless truth is shattered
On thy hurrying current.
Rest, with face uplifted,
Calm, serenely quiet;
Drink the deathless beauty—
Thrills of love and wonder
Sinking, shining, star-like;
Till the mirrored heaven
Hollow down within thee
Holy deeps unfathomed,
Where far thoughts go floating,
And low voices wander
              Whispering peace.

 

Although I am drawn to the ocean, I think I favor the quiet charm of a brook ensconced in the cradle of the woods. What is it about archaic language that makes reflections so much more profound?

 

image: Natureworks/Morguefile

Posted in Nature, Poetry, Reflections, writers and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
20 Apr 2014

Poet Appreciation #7: William Cullen Bryant


Are you a New Yorker? If so, then you know that William Bryant helped establish Central Park and the Metropolitan Museum of Art and that Bryant Park is named for him. He was also long time editor of the New York Evening Post. Of course you knew . More importantly, Bryant was part of the Romantics. While the Brits reveled in Wordsworth, Keats, and Shelley, America had its own Romanticist in the form of William Cullen Bryant.

William Cullen Bryant Cabinet Card by Mora-crop.jpg William Cullen Bryant: November 3, 1794 – June 12, 1878 (Wikipedia image)

November
by William Cullen Bryant

Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!
One mellow smile through the soft vapoury air,
Ere, o’er the frozen earth, the loud winds ran,
Or snows are sifted o’er the meadows bare.
One smile on the brown hills and naked trees,
And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast,
And the blue Gentian flower, that, in the breeze,
Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last.
Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee
Shall murmur by the hedge that skim the way,
The cricket chirp upon the russet lea,
And man delight to linger in thy ray.
Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear
The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air.    

I do like fall. Each month has its own cadence. September has its drowsy warm days drifting into chilly nights, and then there is October with its brisk mornings rewarded with a gift of sun before rescinding into frost-quickened nights. Bryant has captured November with its bright, lingering colors mixed into the descending browns, graced with slights of snowfall. November is truly a mixture of seasons with its bits of summer mingling with the foreshadowing of winter. I added “gentian” to my imagery entries. Lovely word. Wonderful poem of images.

Posted in Americans, Nature, Poetry, Seasons, Uncategorized, writers and tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment
08 Apr 2014
6 Comments

Poet Appreciation #3: Robert Penn Warren


Better known as a novelist, and perhaps as a scholar, Robert Penn Warren did provide some formidable poetry to ponder. You might be more familiar with his All the King’s Men, which garnered him the Pulitzer Prize in 1947, then his Pulitzer Prize collection Now and Then: Poems, 1976-1978. In all, he was awarded three Pulitzer Prizes, two being for poetry.  His southern background influenced his writing, particularly leaning towards the agrarian appreciation of the land. Receiving accolades and honors throughout his career, Warren left a rich legacy of both prose and poetry.

Image of U.S. Poet Laureate Robert Penn Warren

Image of U.S. Poet Laureate Robert Penn Warren (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Vision
by Robert Penn Warren

I shall build me a house shall build me a house where the larkspur blooms
In a narrow glade in an alder wood,
Where the sunset shadows make violet glooms,
And a whip-poor-will calls in eerie mood.

 
I shall lie on a bed of river sedge,
And listen to the glassy dark,
With a guttered light on my window ledge,
While an owl stares in at me white and stark.
I shall burn my house with the rising dawn,
And leave but the ashes and smoke behind,
And again give the glade to the owl and the fawn,
When the grey wood smoke drifts away with the wind.

Like Cather’s poetry about the prairie, Warren provides a strong connection to nature. His diction is amazing the way it influences the imagery: “violet glooms,” “guttered light,” “glassy dark”. I don’t even notice the rhyme, it’s so fluid. Whether they poem is taken for its metaphorical meaning or literal, it doesn’t matter to me–I simply want to savor it, rather than analyze it. Good writing is like a good sunset in that words aren’t always sufficient to explain why the beauty is so moving.

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Posted in Blogging, creativity, Literature, Nature, Poetry, Reflections, Uncategorized, writers and tagged , , , , ,
02 Apr 2014
4 Comments

Poet Appreciate #1: Willa Cather


English: grass at , located on west side of ju...

Nebraska-Kansas prairie (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Most recognize Willa Cather as a writer of prairie prose; however, before O Pioneers! came out in 1913, she had published a book of poems entitled April Twilights in 1903. The following poem from that book of poetry served as the prologue to O Pioneers!

Prairie Spring
by Willa Cather

Evening and the flat land,
Rich and sombre and always silent;
The miles of fresh-plowed soil,
Heavy and black, full of strength and harshness;
The growing wheat, the growing weeds,
The toiling horses, the tired men;
The long empty roads,
Sullen fires of sunset, fading,
The eternal, unresponsive sky.
Against all this, Youth,
Flaming like the wild roses,
Singing like the larks over the plowed fields,
Flashing like a star out of the twilight;
Youth with its insupportable sweetness,
Its fierce necessity,
Its sharp desire,
Singing and singing,
Out of the lips of silence,
Out of the earthy dusk.

Cather announces the coming of spring through abounding sensory imagery and metaphors. This poem encapsulates her mastery of description and exemplifies her love of the prairie. Where she found poetry in a land, many only found hardship and heartaches as they tried to subdue tangled, tawny grasses under their plow.

Portrait of Willa Cather

Portrait of Willa Cather (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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