The Urban Pantheist

Here's my dad and I in front of the house I lived in from age 7 to 18. He still lives there; I visited yesterday.

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Charlie and I visited my dad today!




Fannie Stebbins Wildlife Refuge is a flat stretch of public land in Longmeadow Massachusetts along the Connecticut River. We went there two years ago in the spring.


This time the main feature was the still glassy water, and the subtle colors of the dead plants and grasses.


We saw a lot of signs of beaver activity, but no beavers.


The old 12:02 came roaring through.

Last weekend I went to visit my Dad in Suffield Connecticut. These lovely violets were growing below a downspout.

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My dad lives in Suffield, Connecticut which is rapidly developing former farm town suburb of both Springfield, Massachusetts and Hartford. These mushrooms (Marasmius sp. ?) are growing from the stump of recently removed maple tree.


At the back of his yard is a swampy area, where water drains on its way to the nearby Connecticut River. Jewelweed is starting to pass from flower to exploding pod back there ("Too soon!" I hear Alexis cry out.)


I found these little guys on a stick. What are they?? They look like slime mold sporangia to me. Possibly Leocarpus fragilis? I love them.

My dad and Charlie love each other.


Lately my dad has had chickens wandering through his back yard. This was farm country a hundred years ago, but it's solid suburbs now. Someone must have caught the backyard bird bug from Susan Orleans.

I went to my dad's house Friday, because my brother was coming to spend the night before he and my dad go to Germany together. Here are some pictures of the town where I grew up. This is a tobacco barn under construction.

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I spent a good chunk of the weekend at my Dad's house with my brother and father (and Charlie). My father is looking good, and feeling okay. The doctor is making him take a week off work. I wish there was some way to convince him to work less in general, but I just don't see it. At least he put effort into watching what he ate this weekend and seems committed to making it a permanent change. I told him that I was glad he hadn't died; I hope he keeps that up for a while too--not dying.


(My hometown is mostly Suburbia, but there are still a couple farms here and there.)

I've been on a little vacation from livejournal. Trying to figure out what I could cut back on to get more time in my life for bicycling and housework, eljay was an obvious choice. I haven't read my friends list since Saturday morning, and I doubt I'll catch up. If you had something important happen that I should know about, let me know. Or if you posted a cool bug photo looking for an identification, I'd like to know about that too.

I visited my dad this weekend. That's him up above going into the nursing home where my mother lives. She's wasting away; she weighs 90 pounds, which is probably half of the weight she was when she went in there 15 years ago. She can't eat by herself, and even when someone helps her she often aspirates her food. That's why Alzheimer's patients often get pneumonia. It's really odd to see her as a skinny old lady. I had to accept this time that this may be the last time I see her.

I still want to tell her story here, and I've written out a lot of what I know, and now I need to fix things that my father clarified for me. Today, as we wandered dirt roads in Union Connecticut, he told me that she was bold and adventurous, before her disease made her afraid of everything.

I enjoyed the weekend, spending time with my dad. We walked the Connecticut River Towpath today, as we did about this time several years ago. I knew more birds, was able to identify yellow warblers by song, and we saw signs that beavers live in the area. Charlie enjoyed swimming in the canal and being off-leash in a safe context outdoors.

Today we went to Bigelow Hollow State Park, a truly huge park by southern New England standards, definitely a bigger chunk of protected forest than anything I've been in in Massachusetts. Charlie swam himself sore; he's still on the couch three and a half hours after we got home.

On the way out of town I bumped into a couple Indian guys, a father and son, who were on their way to Six Flags when their car broke down. They were in a convenience store asking, with an edge suggesting desperation, to use a bathroom. The clerk told them that the nearest public restroom was a mile away, by the amusement park. I tidied my car a bit, shoved Charlie over to one side, and offered these guys a ride. I'm still astonished that the convenience store guy wouldn't let them use their lav. What's the big deal? I guess being so close to a big tourist attraction they must get hundreds of people asking every day, but come on, their car broke down and they were desperate! I was glad to help out, any way. I feel that since I didn't get my license until I was 30 that I have 14 years of rides to give back to the universe.

Unfortunately, Karma is mysterious and non-linear, and like luck, it requires your active participation. That's my explanation for getting caught in Red Sox traffic on my way home. The really stupid thing is that I had been watching the game a couple hours ago, so I can't claim ignorance, just thick-headedness. It was so frustrating to be less than a mile from home, poking through traffic for 20 minutes. At 2;30 I was a Red Sox fan; at 5;45 I hated all Red Sox fans.

I have a ton of pictures to fix up and share, most of which are silhouettes of birds. I'll try to be a ruthless self editor. Soon Alexis and I will be reunited. She's been in Vermont while I've been in Connecticut. Her pictures will be undoubtedly better than mine, but it will be nice for those of you who read both of our blogs to see pictures of different things for a change.


Charlie is always a little out of sorts when he visits my Dad. I think he's worried that I'm going to leave him there forever.

I should have mentioned it earlier, but Charlie is a big hit at the nursing home. It's amazing to see people who rot in their wheelchairs all day brighten up when they see him. Today one of the younger residents--a woman in her 40s or 50s with some kind of degenerative illness--showed some interest in him. She seemed physically unable to change her facial expression, but once she started petting Charlie, the corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly, hinting the smile that she was feeling. The joy that the dogs bring us is nice, but the joy they can bring to people who otherwise live without it is something pretty miraculous.

Another red maple (and it's many fallen leaves) in my dad's yard.

( more fall and family pictures )