In the Yard

A note from the yard and part one of my report from the 2012 Hampton Roads Writers Conference

Rae Spencer10 Comments

My first day back from the writing conference is sunny and cool, a perfect day to spend in the yard. I had planned to run straight to my office this morning, but the day is too beautiful to ignore.

Each bed of ginger lilies began the summer with several small praying mantises. Now each harbors a single large praying mantis. I don’t know if the survivors killed their competitors or forced them out. Perhaps they shift territories from day to day and I never find the same individual more than once. But it seems logical, to me, that the one above (photographed on September 7th) lives full-time in the small ginger lily bed, while the one below (photographed today) conquered the larger, corner bed.

However it works, I’m hoping there will be praying mantis egg cases by winter.

Report from the 2012 Hampton Roads Writers Conference, Part One

In the past three years, many of my fellow poets and writers have attended the Hampton Roads Writers conference. I decided to see it for myself this year.

The conference opened Thursday evening and ran through Saturday. Presenters included literary agents, journalists, professors, editors, publishers, and a wide range of authors. All three agents held ten-minute pitch sessions and participated in panel discussions during which they critiqued a series of first-ten-line submissions. The conference also offered three free writing contests (fiction, non-fiction, and poetry) with mid-summer deadlines.

My poem “On Fossil Links That Cannot Speak” placed second in The Barbara Dunn Hartin Memorial Poetry Prize. Barbara Dunn Hartin was a longtime member of the Albright Poets and a dear friend. When her son called my name yesterday, I floated to the front of the room through a fog of tears, speechless and overwhelmed. The certificate shook in my hands as I heard her laughter in the room’s echoes and saw her sparkling eyes in every face. It was a magical conclusion for the conference.

(Except it wasn’t quite the end. After my award, two other Albright Poets won prizes for their creative non-fiction!)

Monarch or Viceroy?

Rae Spencer4 Comments

Since monarch butterflies and viceroy butterflies are both rare in the yard, I haven’t had much practice identifying them. So when a gusty headwind forced this butterfly to perch on the deck this morning, I labelled the photos “Monarch” without paying much attention to the details. After a bit of research, I changed the label to viceroy. The broad stripe that crosses the hindwing’s network of other stripes seems to be the key.

What do you think? Monarch or viceroy?

Rabbit Update and a Publication Note

Rae Spencer2 Comments

The rabbits now spend their days exploring the shed and deck and irises, stretching their boundaries more and more as they grow. But they aren’t so mature that they are willing to skip a meal with their mother. They predictably return to the ginger lilies each evening, where she meets them after dark.

Even though they still nurse, they have become competent grazers. It’s fun to watch them experiment with the yard’s various weeds and flowers.

Publication Note:  My poem “Ink” appeared at vox poetica earlier this month. It’s now posted on the poemblog.

The Rabbits Lose Their Nest

Rae Spencer6 Comments

This is the last image I have of the rabbits in their nest. At the time I took this picture, near nightfall on September 7th, there were three babies visible in the nest and a fourth hiding under the woodpile. Later that night, an unknown predator destroyed the nest and took two of the young rabbits.

What was it? Is there a way to name the hunger that crossed our fence in the dark? And what would I gain, in giving it a name?

The next day was one of uncertainty. How many had survived? One of them stayed visible all day, exposed and exhausted. I feared that it’s inexperience would lure another predator into the yard.

As it turns out, two of the baby rabbits survived. I have no way to know whether or not the rabbits grieve for their loss. All I know is that they go on. They sleep and graze, grow and explore. They live.

I’m sad about the lost rabbits, but less so than I might have been in the past. It’s a matter of perspective, and today’s date eclipses the yard’s small tragedies. Eleven years ago, I spent a week in front of my television, paralyzed with horror.

I felt, then, as if I would never again know joy. As if all of my future hours should be spent remembering and mourning. Except the world continued to turn and I couldn’t sustain my grief. Paper and ashes stopped falling from the sky. Piles of rubble disappeared. Names and stories quit flooding my dreams at night and swirled into the slow current of memory. Today I am able to sit quietly beside those memories and study a calmer reflection, one less distorted by ripples of fear. And tomorrow, when the Earth’s rotation delivers another new day, I’ll stand in the weedy expanse of my yard and take another picture of rabbits. Because all of my future hours should not be spent remembering and mourning. They should be spent living.

Update from the Rabbit Nest

Rae Spencer7 Comments

Between midnight and morning on September 8, an unknown predator destroyed the rabbit nest. (Previous posts about the rabbit nest can be found on August 25, August 27, August 30, September 4, and September 7.)

When we first discovered the damage, we searched the yard to see if any of the babies had survived. We found only one. It had somehow escaped to the far side of the yard and was cowering next to the fence, too stunned to seek safer cover. It remained in that spot through the day, alternating between sleep and quivering tension.

As shadows lengthened into evening the baby crept back to the nest, though it stopped short of entering the ruined shelter. When the mother rabbit emerged from her hiding place under the deck, about an hour later, a second survivor appeared. The new arrival, one of the litter’s largest siblings, dashed out of the ginger lilies and dove into a tuft of tall grass near the nest. The following video shows their twilight reunion, as well as tonight’s nursing session.