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Tag: Home
OCTAGON HOUSE
Eight sides rather than four, to approach circular perfection.
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WILDLIFE, CLOSE TO HOME
more squirrels than girls – and there are a lot of girls in this neighborhood
two horny squirrels on a tree
neighbors report a large groundhog … where are those dogs?
possum … how funny they look, running
their back arches, and both ends drop
nearly to the ground
how laborious!
a possum in the bottom of one of our plastic barrels
furrier than I expected
turn the cylinder on its side, still takes a while
for the critter to move off … injured? stunned? no idea
a young porcupine crossing Hill Street four doors down …
a neighbor watching from the stoop …
next night, a dead adult porcupine in the street
on our apron by the back door
a small snake, whip motion,
ever so slowly
Rachel awakens me
for a scurrying, gnawing noise
inside the wall, beside our heads
in the morning, I realize we haven’t heard
the house sparrows nesting in the eaves overhead, either
none of our plans come off as planned
but we keep readjusting
poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
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For more of my home and garden poetry, click here.
CRITTERS
Reprise
The amount of wildlife in our yard continually impresses me,
especially compared to Oakdale Avenue or Woodbine.
The abundance of squirrels, of course, and possible rats
but also skunks, opossums, the groundhog can be added in
plus snakes and insects.
We must be doing something right, or just be in the right location.
A first: amid a throng of blue jays chasing a crow, a mockingbird:
was its nest raided or threatened?
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For more on my home and garden poetry, click here.
GOLDEN RAGE
So much yellow, this time of summer! Sunflowers, finches, goldenrod, corn drenched in butter. Banks of black-eyed susans, too.

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For my collected garden poems and more, click here.
IN THE ROUND
Or maybe it’s just a nest?
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AWNINGS
Summer comfort.
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ANYONE LIKE BEING SPIED ON?
The other afternoon we were sitting with friends in our Smoking Garden when a fast-moving object caught my eye. Shaped like a small airplane, it dashed across a span of sky visible between the limbs of a maple overhead and then halted. What we heard sounded like a large mosquito and was about just as welcome.
We presume it carried a camera and was spying on the neighborhood. When we edged outward for a closer look at the offending intruder, it scooted away, only to return several times later. Maybe it didn’t like being observed. For that matter, neither did we.
“If we had a gun, could we shoot it down?”
Well, how far does our airspace extend? And what rights do we have versus theirs? Whoever they are. Potential burglars looking for easy prey? Perverts? Even police?
The fact is, the experience is disconcerting, even before we get to the notorious role of drones in Afghanistan and other military – and not so military – zones.
Who’s responsible for this one? What’s it doing there, above us? And why?
Some of us cherish privacy as an essential American right embedded in the First Amendment. And then there’s that matter of my home is my castle, arising in English Common Law.
Besides, a mechanical drone has none of the freedom birds enjoy. The lower reaches of the sky should belong to natural aviators, not an artificial intruder.
Anyone else care to “chirp” in?
DO I NEED TO BRING THE BIRD FEEDER IN?
Maybe I’ve been too involved watching the surreal political scene that’s unfolding in America, but that hasn’t precluded us from enjoying the usual sequence of developments in the garden — things I’ve blogged about in previous years. We’ve enjoyed waves of (wild) dandelions followed by crops of asparagus, lettuce, and spinach, and now the sugar snap peas and raspberries. Maybe I’ve been too busy trying to stay ahead of the weeds, repairing some of our raised beds, even tackling a small patio space between the kitchen and driveway to report on any of it, but in general things are looking good and tasting even better.
One thing that always amazes us is the popularity of the bird feeder in summer. You’d think with all of the natural, wild food sources, the birds would ignore the feeder. Instead, they become voracious, going through as much of my grain and seed in a couple of days as they do in nearly a month of deep cold and snow. Yes, there are those babies to feed, but this still has us shaking our heads in wonderment. OK, we do live in a city, and anything we can do to enhance the avian population has its pluses. Still, we’d like them to remain independent and turn to our supply when things are tough rather than bountiful.
Feeders, I should note, fuel their own band of human supporters — along with topics of conversations. Squirrels are only one of the menaces.
Each spring, when I was editing the newspaper, I’d have to chuckle when the state Fish and Game Department issued its annual bring-your-feeders-in alert. We had enough friends who lived in the country to tell us — and sometimes show us the damage — of what could happen when the bears come out of hibernation and start roaming. The bruins will rip a feeder to shreds, sometimes a half-mile from the scene of the crime. (Well, our dentist had photos of the hairy ones at work — five days in a row of bears visiting the feeders on his deck right outside the kitchen overlooking the lake.) Living in town, though, I’ve never considered us at risk.
But now? A neighbor saw a bear yesterday just four or five blocks from us as it crossed a busy street just north of downtown. I know it’s a rare though not unknown phenomenon, but it’s still news. For now, I’m shaking my head and hoping the neighborhood dogs are on guard. Their barking should do the trick, if need be. So I’m told.
A CASTLE HERE, A CASTLE THERE
Towers and turrets make for a room with a view.
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