Play ball or play blueberry? (Robins might make a good maccot for baseball.)

The media is reporting baseball season will soon be upon us and that with the enforcement of social distancing (a precaution still taking place to prevent the spread of the coronavirus), those who enjoy the sport will be able to attend games (you won’t see me there). 

From the looks of the picture (atop this entry), a certain American robin visiting my garden might make a good mascot as he appears to know how to  catch "fly blueberries,”  and that skill could be an inspiration to players to catch fly balls. 

In any event, American robins enjoy eating blueberries as well as indulging in other behaviors.

April 2019 is here...

... and in NYC it arrived with temperatures in the low thirties, prompting folks on the street to make reference to the weather being an April Fool's Day prank.

April is a month that T.S. Eliot proclaimed was the cruelest, that is part of a quotation (posted above) from The Wasteland, which is one I've referenced in prior entries here on Blogger; but today I came upon an interpretation of these words that really spoke to me and I hope they do the same for you, dear reader.

In an article for Node in the Global Mind, Chris Day responds to the question, What did T.S. Eliot mean when he said that April is the cruelest month (in his poem, The Waste Land)? Day states the following:

"Let's look at the first seven lines of the first stanza:

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

In the northern hemisphere, April is clasically associated with spring. This is classic Eliot topsy-turviness. April is cruel? How can April be cruel? It's spring; with flowers and mild weather and sex and love in the air. 

He's giving us an insight into a mind that doesn't revel in these things as might be expected. 'breeding/Lilacs out of the dead land' is a very heavy, depressed way to describe the blooming of flowers. He sees the same things as everyone else, but there is no joy there. 'mixing/Memory and desire, stirring/Dull roots with spring rain;' a sense of loss and longing, of being rooted in the past, and spring re-awakening memories of things that have passed. 

By comparison; 'Winter kept us warm' 'forgetful snow;' these things suggest a state of comfortable emotional hibernation.

An old literature teacher once put it thus; when your arm is numb, you don't feel it. But when the blood flows again, and the pins and needles come, suddenly you know about it. It's not (emotional) numbness that hurts; it's the return of feeling.

Anyone who has dealt with long-term depression can probably feel the connection to what Eliot is describing here, and it does a fantastic job of leading in to the rest of the poem, which deals excrutiatingly with depression and memory. 

In summary; April is the cruelest month because the life and color of spring throws one's depression into stark relief and forces painful memories to surface."

Day's interpretation of the first seven lines of Eliot's stanza rings true for me on a very personal level they remind me of  a poem by Emily Dickinson, which is about her first encounter with a robin in any given new year.

It's Berry Time In The City

This past Thursday I went to the greenmarket at Tucker Square, and a representative for GrowNYC, the organization that oversees the greenmarkets throughout the city, took the second photograph atop today's blog entry. I was so caught up in complimenting him on his sign, that I forgot to ask his name so that I could give him a photo credit. Because I go to that market on a regular basis. 

I hope to see him again and then give him a nod (in cyber space) for taking this image for me. In any event, while I was there, I told him (as well as a grower that happened to be standing nearby), how much pleasure I got in providing berries for the American Robins who have been visiting my urban (rooftop) garden — which is something I wrote about this in a recent blog post, "Serving The Frugivores."   

The grower begged to differ about deriving pleasure in seeing birds eat blueberries. She explained that she goes to great lengths to prevent birds from having access to her blueberries.

A bit of serendipity for the NYC birds that visit my rooftop garden: The grower covers her blueberries with nets to keep the birds away, then she brings her blueberries to the city, where I buy them, and use them to feed the bird types that she tries to keep away!

Pablo, the jay, needs a prayer for healing!

THIS BIRD TYPE IS FEATURED IN MY BOOKS

Last night when I checked something on FB, I saw a notification that I had received a photo from someone (Gloria Criollo) who is a friend in "real life" and on FB.

Because it is unlike GC to message images I decided to phone her before I clicked on it to see if she had sent me anything as I know people who have had their account hacked these days.

Plus I had intended to phone her anyway due to the Father's Day holiday (today) and because her husband, Pablo, died from COVID-19 (coronavirus) this past April, which is something I mentioned within an entry here on Blogger on April 20, 2020, I wanted her to know she was in my thoughts, always, but especially at this holiday time.

As it turned out, GC had sent me a photo. It is of a bird that she saw crying in the street as the creature stood next to a dead bird who had probably been hit by a car while he/she was on the streets of NYC.

Tuesday's Truths WK 1: The Construction of Young Starlings's Beaks Help Their Parents!

                              

Those of you who have followed this blog over the years have probably discovered that I have incorporated certain templates and after a bit of time stopped using them, switched to another format, but have often wound up reverting back to what I started with. My behavior re this "process" reminds me of how Oscar Wilde once described his editing. Here's what he said: “I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again.”

Today, Tuesday, July 19th 2016, I am returning to a posting feature I once provided in my blog during the years of 2011 and 2012. The feature I am speaking of is to designate a given day of the week for an entry topic. During the years of 2011 and 2012, I often designated Mondays as "Mondays Musings"; Wednesdays as "Wednesday's Wisdom", and Friday's as "Follow-Up Friday." I set aside Tuesday's for referring folks to my activity on tumblr and called those Blogger posts, "If it's Tuesday, it must be tumblr..." 

While it has been a long time since I desingnated a certain day of the week as a springboard for a blog topic, all of those day-of-the-week posts can still be found within my blog by going to the left hand column titled TLLG's Blog Archive. Meanwhile, as I just stated, today, Tuesday, July 19th 2016, I am returning to a posting feature, which will be designating a day of the week as a springboard for a post. 

Beginning with this Tuesday,  I will feature "Tuesday's Truths." These series of posts will provide an interesting fact about flora growing in my urban (NYC) rooftop garden and or an interesting fact re a member of the avian community who visits it. I was encouraged to return to this type of feature by Jenn G, a young woman who works in my hood (she drew the bird I've featured below).

Jenn believes that folks are interested in fun facts and has encouraged me to share some of what I know, hence my new Tuesday thing. I'll start this new series with a fact that I've just about the bird type known as European starlings. One can be seen (in the images posted below) alighting upon the container which is home to the kiwi vines which grow in my garden. 

Some of you may recall, I was once criticized (by a stranger) for writing about this bird type. Be that as it may, I am continue to be fascinated by the antics of European starlings; and I recently discovered something I hadn't known about them, after placing a saucer of blueberries atop the table in my garden.