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Would anyone like to have these fox bookmarks? Leave your name in the comments! I'll pick a winner next thursday, May 6. Open to anyone, anywhere. All you need is a postal address.
You know me, I always love stories about animals. Here's one I read several years ago. Out of Harm's Way is about the experiences of Terri Crisp, who rescues animals from disaster sites: floods, fires, hurricanes, oil spills, earthquakes, etc. The stories in her book are both heartbreaking and inspiring. It was never an easy thing to reach frightened, often injured animals and get them to safety- the work took a lot of patience, courage and ingenuity. It's very sad to see the animals suffering- they have no idea what happened, are bewildered by the the sudden, traumatic change in their lives and often don't realize the rescuers are there to help them. Some were even purposefully abandoned by their owners. Most of the incidents involve cats and dogs, of course, but there are birds, horses and other livestock too. Besides stories about animal rescues, the book also contains information on how to prepare for an emergency with your pets in mind, and how to help animals you might find in trouble.
I read this book first as a preteen. I think it was the first book I ever read depicting what life might have been like among prehistoric peoples, and it fired my imagination. Not only was it about prehistoric humans, but a girl from modern times is inexplicably catapulted back through the centuries to live among them. Following a harrowing incident, Alexandra ("Zan") hides herself behind a boulder in the park, feels a whirlwind around her and wakes up in a wild world of immense, vivid plants, strange creatures, and shy people who speak an unknown language and seem to melt into the forest, where they exist in harmony with nature. Bruised, terrified and confused, Zan tries desperately to follow them, finding herself clumsy and inarticulate at best. After overcoming her shock (which takes several days), she slowly manages to find acceptance in the tribe, but some of the people always see her as a foreign outsider, a threat. Zan herself comes to enjoy her life among them, while at the same time struggling to hold onto memories and knowledge from her true home. What begins as a peaceful coexistence starts to escalate into conflict until Zan begins to wonder what her future will really be like. Will she be stuck in this primeval world forever?
In a personal look at wildlife behavior, the author spent a year closely observing deer and other animals on her wooded New Hampshire property, telling us what she learned in The Hidden Life of Deer. It started when the fall acorn crop failed, and Thomas started putting out corn for the deer, watching from her window as they fed in her back field. She sorted out their family groups and social hierarchy, learned where they rested during the day, how they communicated, etc. As she didn't radio-collar the deer or follow them through the forest, a lot of her information was gathered slowly over time, or via secondhand signs. I was surprised at how much time (over two chapters it felt like) was spent debating whether she should even feed the deer, examining each reason the Fish and Game Department gives not to do so. Although Thomas loved the deer, lived tolerantly even with the mice in her house and hated seeing wildlife injured by careless hunters or vehicles on the road, she also tried to be practical about the fact that not all of them would survive, and minus their natural predators man has taken up the role of thinning their numbers. In one interesting chapter she describes taking a course on hunting and accompanying a friend on his annual deer hunt, in another she admits her error in trying to poison rats and then watching predators suffer in a chain-reaction. Not all of the book is about deer; there are also turkeys, bears, caterpillars and others. I liked reading her stories about animals, her thoughts on how all living things share the same basic needs: to be safe, acquire food, be with their families, though which similarities we can understand them by comparing them to ourselves.
Ever find something cool in a used book you've bought? I found this photo tucked between the pages of a forgotten title. It looks like it was removed from another book, probably a memoir. I just thought I'd share it with you because it's such a great image- all the children lining up for their reading material. It says "Charleston County Free Library" on the side of the antique vehicle. Anyone know the source? I'd love to give it proper credit.
In the 1950's a young corporal in the army named Rudy gets mistakenly sent to Greenland, where a secret military hospital houses severely wounded soldiers from the Korean war. They are kept there until they die, then reported suddenly found to their families (who assumed them missing-in-action) with no details disclosed...
Once there was a woman who lived on Cape Cod, a writer. She had a beautiful little abyssinian cat, whom you might think spoiled- this kitty dines fresh steaks, lamb or flounder fillets, interrupts the bed-making with her naps- which must go undisturbed, takes supervised strolls around the property on a leash, nibbles on asparagus tips and is constantly provided with fresh drinking water in a glass, served with ice. Some life for a kitty! But Amber, as she is called, also has a very distinctive personality, and a determined will of her own as well. She is a well-loved companion, and listens patiently to all Mrs. Taber's musings. Conversations with Amber is a gentle book about the deep companionship they share. Not only is it about life with a cat, all their interesting feline habits and traits, but also a compilation of the author's thoughts on many different subjects- from world hunger, the women's liberation movement and ageing to subjects closer to home, like the responsibility we have to those we love, how sensitive pets can be to the emotional tension in a home, or methods for relieving a worried mind- all in the format of discussions she has with her cat. Amber answers in kind, her direct (or averted) gaze, lifted whiskers, swiveling ears, moving tail or gently prodding paw speaking just as loud as words. A lovely book, indeed.
A cream-colored filly is born to a wild mare in the Idaho scrub, and on her very first day of life, looses her mother. Luckily Jim, a young ranch hand comes along and rescues her, raising her on cattle milk at the ranch station. When the filly is only five months old, an accident separates her from the only man she knows and trusts, and she ends up running off with the wild horses. The next time she meets mankind, they're strangers who see her as just another beautiful wild horse, one to be caught and broken in for profit. "Flax" spends several years evading cowboys and mingling with other wild horses, until finally she crosses paths with Jim once more. He recognizes her immediately, but she's only learned to fear men in the meantime. Can Jim win her trust again?
This is the backstory of a filming project: following the life cycle of the snow goose from eggs hatching on the northern tundra to their migration south where they winter in Texas, and back again in spring. The resulting documentary was a TV special called The Incredible Flight of the Snow Geese which I've never seen (it's pretty old, made in the late seventies). While the film crew was on site in Alaska and northern Canada specifically to observe snow geese, they also photographed myriads of other waterfowl and seabirds, and sometimes encountered other animals: foxes, lemmings, polar bears. At first the narrative is all about their experience in cold weather, difficulties moving equipment and finding ways to approach the birds close enough without scaring them off. But then they start to pick up abandoned goslings, birds that usually would succumb to predators. Soon they had ten baby geese to hand-raise, and a sandhill crane chick. These birds readily imprinted on the team and followed them everywhere; while they were thrilled to observe the birds' development up-close, it also made their project more difficult as they had to keep the geese from accompanying them to blinds where they sat in absolute stillness for hours to watch birds on nests. When the time came to follow the snow goose migration back south, the young snow geese, crane, and a rescued canada goose all came along. Eventually the birds were found homes in wildlife sanctuaries, and the geese finally joined a wild flock. While the writing was a bit bland, very straightforward, it was still interesting. I always wonder when watching wildlife documentaries what exactly the filmmakers have to go through to get such amazing shots; The Flight of the Snow Geese gives a little insight into it all, even though I'm sure some techniques have changed a lot in thirty-odd years. All the time I was reading this I kept thinking of that fantastic film Winged Migration. Have any of you seen it? It took my breath away.
This title has sounded familiar to me since childhood, and caught my eye at a library sale. I have a vague memory of my mother reading it to us sisters at one time, when we were past bedtime stories but still gathered to listen to novels in the evening. It turns out I recalled almost nothing of the story, so it was a whole new experience to read it again.
I was first enthralled with Annie Dillard's writing when I read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. She has a wonderful way with words. Her phrases are so descriptive, so vivid you can practically feel them under your fingertips, smell and hear and sense. This book is a memoir of her youth, growing up in Pittsburgh. She brings alive so many things about being a child- finding wonder in every new discovery, exploring the neighborhood on bicycle, throwing snowballs at passing cars. Even the small, ordinary moments- sitting quietly in church, watching scenery pass by through the car window, take on significance when seen through her child's perspective. It feels like everything is here- how her family taught her to dance and appreciate good jokes, how she learned about the history of her town, the mysteries of boys in school, the private passions of collecting things.... I couldn't relate to everything she spoke of- I was always a total klutz at sports and dancing (the rules and timing still elude me) but the things I could resonated so deeply. Being enraptured by books, full of wonder at the world they opened. Her fascination with nature, collecting insects, examining rocks, wanting to see every thing up close and understand it. Her passion for words, and writing poetry (I wrote so many awful poems in high school, thinking they were the outpouring of my soul. Now they make no sense to me at all!) If you haven't read any works by Dillard, I'd encourage you to try An American Childhood. It's a bit slow to start, but soon you'll find something in the pages that brings up memories of your own childhood you'd almost forgotten. It did that for me.
Another book about bonsai. I liked this one because it focuses on plants that make good bonsai to be kept indoors, whereas they're more commonly kept outside. I always did want some for in the house, not just brought in for display. Indoor Bonsai has a photo gallery of indoor houseplants that can be trained as bonsai. There are instructions basic care, design, when to wire or prune (or both), how to cure common pests and diseases, and how to grow plants from seed or cuttings. I'm interested in trying to make bonsai out of a schefflera or jade plant (crassula), and for the first time in this book found reference (but no picture) of geraniums being grown as bonsai, so I no longer feel odd about having one! It also answered one of my long-standing questions about houseplants: the white crud that forms on the top of the soil and around inside rim of my pots? It's from the water being too hard. Soften the water by boiling first, or collect rainwater, and this should go away, the book tells me. So I'm trying that now.