This week in birds

This week in birds - #666

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

I have been gratified this week to hear the voice of Mourning Doves whenever I have ventured out into our yard. Over the past few years they and the little Inca Doves had been largely displaced in our neighborhood by the invasive White-winged Doves. The White-wings are still here but not in the numbers that they once were and the Mourning Doves and Incas have resumed their place in the habitat.

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The daily news is filled with doom and gloom for those of us who care about the environment but there is hope.

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However the news about greenhouse emissions from last year for the United States was not good as it showed an increase while the two previous years had shown decreases.

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Moreover, conservative activists seem poised to succeed in their efforts to stop government efforts to combat climate change.

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We know how it ended but how did the age of dinosaurs begin?

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What lies under Antarctica's ice? A new map shows us.

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This is a newly discovered deep-sea chiton. The public was offered an opportunity to give it its scientific name and 8,000 suggestions later that name has been chosen.

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China has engaged in mass tree planting around the Taklamakan Desert and has managed to turn one of the world's largest and driest deserts into a carbon sink that absorbs more carbon than it emits.

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Gray wolves are returning to Los Angeles County in California for the first time in nearly a century.

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How did life first reach Earth? Physicists are creating experiments to try to figure that out.

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After that infamous asteroid hit the planet 66 million years ago, it seems that life bounced back surprisingly fast.

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The Environmental Protection Agency is not living up to its name. It has reapproved the use of the controversial herbicide dicamba.

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Antarctica's seals are collecting data for scientists in waters that could otherwise never be reached.

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Rove beetles are entirely dependent on ants for their survival but that seems to be working out well for both species. Nature finds a way.

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And here is (potentially) some good news for these rhesus monkeys at the Oregon National Primate Research Center: The center might be turned into a sanctuary.

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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