This week in birds

This week in birds - #635

A roundup of the week's news of birds and the environment:

The colorful Tropical Parula is the American Bird Conservancy's Bird of the Week. This beautiful bird can be found breeding as far north as the southernmost tip of Texas and is a resident through parts of Mexico and Central America and into South America. It is decreasing in numbers across its range.

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Monarch butterflies are on the move and have reached as far north as Michigan, New York, and Ontario.

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Our closest cousins, the chimpanzees, have been observed and documented using medicinal plants to treat wounds and other injuries.

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The current iteration of the EPA is rolling back protections against "forever chemicals" in drinking water. (I don't think they are taking that middle initial very seriously.)

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The fight against global warming does not need to conflict with the effort to end global poverty.

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A new report outlines how corporations have fought against accountability for their part in global warming.

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"Forest management" is not necessarily a good thing; in fact, it is often just the opposite.

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Our current president hates wind energy, but its proponents are trying to find ways to change his mind.

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Florida's mangrove forests have been hammered by Nature and by human intervention, but there is an effort underway to restore them.

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Research published in the journal Nature this week argues that the feathered dinosaur, the Archaeopteryx, was probably capable of flight, at least for short distances, not unlike its descendant, the chicken.

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Is bringing extinct species like the dire wolf or woolly mice back through selective breeding a good idea? Or is it an unnecessary distraction from saving the species that still exist?

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I must confess it warms my heart to know that Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 are still out there after more than forty-seven years, still carrying out the mission assigned to them.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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