Looking forward

I've been staring at this autumny tree, trying to take in some of its calmness.

It's been kind of a crazy month -- not one to complain about -- nearly all of it happy-making, culminating in this weekend's Word Vancouver. Still, I'm ready for a less hectic time.

Maybe tomorrow, when the calendar turns to October, life will slow down a little. But for now, I need to get dressed, as I'm heading off to a literary event, exactly the sort of thing I love to do.

And no, I will never complain about there being too many literary events going on, or too much art in the world, or too many beautiful sights in nature to inspire me.

Sweet homecoming

This past fortnight has been a series of homecomings. There've been reunions of various sorts -- with relatives, some whom I haven't seen in a decade or more-- with friends that go back even more years.

I've also revisited places I haven't seen in years. I even got to visit my gramma's old house.

But the best homecoming of all has been returning home today. It's been one of those rare September days when the air is warm and sweet, hot as any day in July.

The berries still on the bush are continuing to ripen (I picked enough for a pie for the freezer and for a dessert for tonight).

The quince are nearly ripe, but autumn is clearly nearby.

Something I suppose about the angle of the light, the way it seems to break into disparate beams. The spiders are weaving their oversized nets, hoping to catch the last of the summer insects. The floppy autumn crocuses have opened their pale blossoms to these last days of warmth.

The clues are here: change is in the air. But oh, it's sure beautiful right now.

Once upon a time the sky...

...was filled with flocks of passenger pigeons. The empty sky in the photo marks a sad anniversary -- 100 years since the last passenger pigeon, Martha, died.

It's startling to think that a species could go from being the most numerous bird population on the planet to extinction, and all in the space of not much over a century. As late as the 1800s, the sky was said to darken, sometimes for more than a day, as masses of these birds flew overhead. 

And somehow I don't find it completely reassuring that scientists are considering ways of renewing the species, using DNA from the feet of specimens in the Royal Ontario Museum. Such birds wouldn't be the same, as they would be crossed species with another breed of pigeon. Besides, really, what's the point.

The best lesson we can take from the passenger pigeon is a cautionary one, reminding us of the fragility of life -- even when it seems to be in abundance.