tales from the wild metropolis
Anywhere you hang your hat is home, or so the saying goes, but the same holds true even if your cap is actually a cluster of rose-colored feathers, or even a cloche of streaky tan and taupe. Perhaps we rarely see a House Finch (Haemorhous mexicanus) wearing a hat because once they settle on a... Continue Reading →
Crickets don't really sing. The females are silent, and when males want to croon they don't clear their throats... they rub their wings together, kind of like snapping fingers. Very hip. So maybe it would be more accurate to say their wear their hearts on their sleeves. Except they don't have sleeves. Or arms. Or hearts.
Enter the term "engineering marvels" into your favorite search engine and you'll see there's some debate over the Top 10 but several projects always seem to hit the mark, such as Dubai's Palm Islands, the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, the Chunnel connecting England and France, the International Space Station, and the Internet. They're all... Continue Reading →
Descendants of German immigrants are living in the city park a couple of blocks from my loft. Nobody in this historic St. Louis neighborhood seems to mind, least of all me. In fact, this family has had an encampment there for 7 score and 10 years, so if the other residents notice them at all... Continue Reading →
As you might imagine, I was caught completely off-guard when, strolling through the shire one evening, a dashing young prince in the guise of a Blanchard's cricket frog (Acris blanchardi) bounced out of the shadows and onto the path before me, demanding a kiss.
Picasso was feeling low. Following the suicide of his friend and occasional roommate, the painter Carles Casagemas, Pablo plunged into a rock-bottom depression that lasted more than 3 years. During this time (1901 to 1904), the vividly extroverted artist faded from the Paris art scene to focus on a series of austere, melancholy, and eventually... Continue Reading →
As Dash, my canine coach, and I were walking earlier this week, I noticed small, pale butterflies along the sunnier sections of our path. I decided to come back on my own while Dash was having his post-walk breakfast at home because sneaking up on anything is mission impossible when you have a resolutely curious... Continue Reading →
"He sure does have a chip on his shoulder!" That statement is a metaphor... ... except when it isn't. Taken literally, this idiom for describing someone looking for a fight may also refer to the ornamental insignia on a military uniform, or the poppy red and sunflower yellow feathers of Red-winged Blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus). Like... Continue Reading →
Next-Door Nature 