Home > Work > Letters From Eden: A Year at Home, in the Woods
1 " A starling sits on a wire on the busy street, and I watch him as I wait at a red light. He flies down to a spot in the middle of the road, walks around with that curious, potbellied strut, neck craned at something that lies in the road. Food? The traffic thickens and roars up, and the bird rises back up to the wire, only to drop down again, walking tight circles around the object. My car nears, and my heart sinks to see that the bundle in the road is another starling, just killed. Fearless, the starling dodges trucks and cars to be near the lifeless mess that was its mate. An hour later, the bird still sits on the wire, watching the little spot of feathers. I wonder whether anyone else passing noticed this small tragedy, and I remember a fragment of verse about swatting a mosquito: a life so small, but to itself, so dear. "
― Julie Zickefoose , Letters From Eden: A Year at Home, in the Woods
2 " I don't mind scrambling around in public after baby birds and trapped butterflies. I don't mind the strange looks and smirks that inevitably follow such activities. I can't walk by creatures in need. And I get to take home the greatest treasure of all: a warm glow, knowing that one more turtle will lay her eggs; one more dove, one more skipper will fly because I stopped to help. "
3 " Barn swallows, like phoebes, are worth it. Watch swallows skim low over the lawn in the sidelight of a summer evening; watch a phoebe whirl out to snap up a passing crane fly, then fetch up on a dead branch, and then imagine the scene without their spark. "
4 " Much as the din and the feeling of being an unwilling insect carrier wore on my nerves, I still loved the Brood V hatch experience, the way I love big surf, thunderstorms, and oversized rat snakes. They're all reminders that nature is bigger, far bigger, and more powerful than we usually care to admit. Just as the hatch was starting, I stood in line at my favorite garden center behind a young man who was buying two gallons of a deadly liquid insecticide. He was hoping to stop the cicada hatch, to save his trees from what he was sure would be the death of them. The nursery manager rang up the sale, and his eyes met mine as the young man handed over his money. We shook our heads and smiled. I went home to watch the celebration. "
