Bryan's Posts About Being Outside
Gratitude and the Grand Canyon
While backpacking in the Grand Canyon last week I managed to win my first election. In the contest for Montpelier Parks Commission on Town Meeting Day I prevailed by a vote of 1398 to 677. And I was among the…
Snowy Owls and Us
My essay on finding opportunity and humility in this winter’s irruption of Snowy Owls. For Aeon magazine.
Shadows and Sex
You don’t need Punxsutawney Phil to know which way the wind blows. Groundhog Day ain’t about shadows. It’s about sex. Birds and rodents are beginning a season of foreplay.
By Bryan on December 19, 2013 On the road writing, I’ll offer a few recent discoveries: The New York Times offers a fine account of the recent Monarch butterfly decline – and potential for a comeback. Aeon Magazine is an…
War and Climate and Us
War and Climate and Us Required reading in The Times from Roy Scranton, a soldier, author and philosopher. In this gripping essay about war, climate and humanity is our future – a fate with scarce shelter in the Anthropocene. Scraton writes: Now, when…
The Crap Around Montpelier
Blogger’s Note: This post, first published on October 23, 2013, has been revised following the installation of some wonderful “poop stations” around Montpelier and adoption of a new Code of Conduct for dogs and people in Hubbard Park. Dear Montpelier…
Monhegan Report No. 7: The Fallout II
At daybreak Saturday, a gentle rain of warblers and kinglets fell on Monhegan Island. From the sea they came, most making their first migration south, blown off course and over the Atlantic, and then finding port on this tiny island to rest, feed and reorient. Another Monhegan fallout.
Monhegan Report No. 6: Halftime Update
Despite a regular flow of northerly winds, the 2013 fall migration on Monhegan Island is off a bit compared to what I’ve experienced over the past 16 years. The fallout on Monday amounted to a soft rain of Blackpoll Warblers and Yellow-rumped Warblers, with sprinkles of Cape May Warblers.
Monhegan Report No. 5: The Fallout
From the heavens at dawn came warblers to Monhegan. Even before the sunrise would make them glow, before they found the trees and insects, we heard the yellow-rump’s thin “seep!,” the blackpoll’s high “tzzeet!” and the palm’s rich “sink!” – the flight sounds of a fallout on Monhegan Island. In the dim light of dawn, we stepped outside to sip coffee and listen to our day of birds approaching.
Monhegan Report No. 4: Going North
Here on Monhegan Island, during supper with Jane Curtis, now about 92, we ventured no further than the frontiers of books and art and conversation about people on a tiny island.
Monhegan Report No. 3: Moonset to Moonrise
The sea is life here on Monhegan Island. But island communities also live close to the sky. Above is the full moon setting behind Manana and the Island Inn on Thursday morning. Twelve hours later, after a day of birding and walking and visiting with friends here, Ruth and I dashed out to Burnt Head to watch the (almost) full moon rise from the ocean.
Monhegan Report No. 2: The Other Migration
On the breath of Boreas, the Greek god of the north wind, migrants blew onto Monhegan Island Tuesday morning. No fallout, but we were busy with some of the place-name warblers: Tennessee, Nashville, Cape May. South winds Wednesday produced a quiet morning.