Without Lifting A Finger

Being near Tietjens she lifted her plate, which contained two cold cutlets in aspic and several leaves of salad: she wavered a little to one side and, with a circular motion of her hand, let the whole contents fly at Tietjens’ head. She placed the plate on the table and drifted slowly towards the enormous mirror over the fireplace. “I’m bored,” she said. “Bored! Bored!”

  My poem "Her Flight" is up at the first link (Red Noise Collective) and a bit of the poem is also used on a cool Instagram video (second link). No idea how long the poem will be up. Run.:) https://www.rednoisecollective.com/her-fight https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cp3N0E9OrE-/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y= #rlswihart #rednoisecollective #herflight #readmorepoetry2023

Vermilion Flycatchers in Lakewood CA. The male preferred the fence above some yellow flowers, the female was closer to the Carson bridge. Lakewood along San Gabriel River. (Love the rain but it isn't good for birding.:)) #rlswihart13 #lakewoodca #sangabriel #sangabrielriver #flycatchers #birdpics #vermilionflycatcher #nature #beauty #poetry #readinginsteadofbirding #rainydays #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine 🇺🇦

The girl said: “I’m coming up now! I’ve found out something....” He watched intently the place where she must appear; it would give him pointers about the impenetrability of mist to the eye. Her otter skin cap had beads of dew: beads of dew were on her hair beneath: she scrambled up, a little awkwardly: her eyes sparkled with fun: panting a little: her cheeks bright. Her hair was darkened by the wetness of the mist, but she appeared golden in the sudden moonlight. Before she was quite up, Tietjens almost kissed her. Almost. An all but irresistible impulse! He exclaimed: “Steady, the Buffs!” in his surprise. She said: “Well, you might as well have given me a hand.”

The girl said: “I’m coming up now! I’ve found out something....” He watched intently the place where she must appear; it would give him pointers about the impenetrability of mist to the eye. Her otter skin cap had beads of dew: beads of dew were on her hair beneath: she scrambled up, a little awkwardly: her eyes sparkled with fun: panting a little: her cheeks bright. Her hair was darkened by the wetness of the mist, but she appeared golden in the sudden moonlight. Before she was quite up, Tietjens almost kissed her. Almost. An all but irresistible impulse! He exclaimed: “Steady, the Buffs!” in his surprise. She said: “Well, you might as well have given me a hand.”

Great Horned Owl Family in Southern California (a bit north of LA). Probably the Momma and two Smurfs (the more the sun rose the more they snuggled -- not good for great pics). Still, a wonderful sight. Have a great week wherever you are.:) #rlswihart #southerncalifornia  #owls #owlsofinstagram #greathornedowl #hoothoot #nature #beauty #poetry #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine 🇺🇦

It was in that way his mind worked when he was fit: it picked up little pieces of definite, workmanlike information. When it had enough it classified them: not for any purpose, but because to know things was agreeable and gave a feeling of strength, of having in reserve something that the other fellow would not suspect.... He passed a long, quiet, abstracted afternoon.

Hammond's Flycatcher in Lakewood CA. I had gotten one pic (backview, head turned toward me) but had to go back several times before I got a "full session." It was worth the effort. TGIF. #rlswihart #lakewoodca #southland #scal #sangabriel #sangabrielriver #flycatchersofinstagram #hammondsflycatcher #nature #beauty #littlebirds #poetry #tgif #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine 🇺🇦

From the first book of four in Parade's End: “You don’t want me to be a pure young girl,” Sylvia asked with lazy incredulity. “I do not!” the Father said, “but I’d wish that at times ye’d remember you once were.” “I don’t believe I ever was,” Sylvia said. “If the nuns had known, I’d have been expelled from the Holy Child.” “You would not,” the Father said. “Do stop your boasting. The nuns have too much sense.... Anyhow, it isn’t a pure young girl I’d have you or behaving like a Protestant deaconess for the craven fear of hell. I’d have ye be a physically healthy, decently honest-with-yourself young devil of a married woman. It’s them that are the plague and the salvation of the world.”

I don’t know. And there is nothing to guide us. And if everything is so nebulous about a matter so elementary as the morals of sex, what is there to guide us in the more subtle morality of all other personal contacts, associations, and activities? Or are we meant to act on impulse alone? It is all a darkness.

He seemed to be changed, though she could not have told in what manner. He appeared excited and his voice seemed deeper. And suddenly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he said: "I say, mother, as long as you have come to-day, I want to tell you that I will not be at 'The Poplars' next Sunday, for we are going to have another excursion." She was amazed, smothering, as if he had announced his departure for America. At last, recovering herself, she said: "Oh, Poulet, what is the matter with you? Tell me what is going on." He began to laugh, and kissing her, replied: "Why, nothing, nothing, mamma. I am going to have a good time with my friends; I am just at that age."

Pacific Wren @ La Mirada Community Park (pics #1 & #2) and, for comparison, the Winter Wren @ Mom's house in Michigan (#3 & #4). I was in La Mirada from 9 to 2 waiting for the little PW (Troglodytes pacificus) to exit its "cave." Finally I made one last attempt at playing the audio ebird call (along the stretch of shrubs he's known to frequent) and he came out, darting up and down the length of his kingdom, once flying up to the tree. Behavior-wise very much like his Eastern cousin. Amazing!!! TGIF. #rlswihart #lacounty #lamirada #lamiradacommunityregionalpark #wrensofinstagram #pacificwren #winterwren #troglodyte #troglodytidae #cavewrens #nature #beauty #amazingbirds #poetry #tgif #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine 🇺🇦

Then she had a nightmare, or was it a nightmare? She was in bed. It was broad daylight, but she could not get up. Why? She did not know. Then she heard a little noise on the floor, a sort of scratching, a rustling, and suddenly a mouse, a little gray mouse, ran quickly across the sheet. Another followed it, then a third, who ran toward her chest with his little, quick scamper. Jeanne was not afraid, and she reached out her hand to catch the animal, but could not catch it. Then other mice, ten, twenty, hundreds, thousands, rose up on all sides of her. They climbed the bedposts, ran up the tapestries, covered the bed completely. And soon they got beneath the covers; Jeanne felt them gliding over her skin, tickling her limbs, running up and down her body. She saw them running from the bottom of the bed to get into her neck under the sheets; and she tried to fight them off, throwing her hands out to try and catch them, but always finding them empty.

Green-tailed Towhee in Lakewood (along San Gabriel River). Didn't get him at Harriett Wieder this winter, but I finally got him here (after several attempts). Took him forever to come out and he stayed in the shadows. #rlswihart #lakewoodca #sangabrielriver #wintervisitors #towheesofinstagram #greentailedtowhee #birdphotography #nature #beauty #poetry #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine 🇺🇦

She had gone to rest a young girl; she was now a married woman. She had crossed that boundary that seems to conceal the future with all its joys, its dreams of happiness. She felt as though a door had opened in front of her; she was about to enter into the fulfillment of her expectations.