Study of Small Things

I wrote this poem after hearing last night's news.

Study of Small Things

Crystal H. Rogers

 Daddy heard USDA allowed

a small number of rat hairs

in peanut butter.

I laughed and kept eating.

Now we hear bottled water

has micro and nano particles

of plastic.

I pause to consider.

I know what happens to

rat hair when I eat it:

It’s digested. No harm done.

I do not know

what plastic

may do.

I think I hear butterfly wings.

Forsythia or Yellow Bell

Forsythia is long gone now. Every flower has dropped away and in place of a bright yellow flash in the landscape, I now have a hum drum green forgettable shrub. But it was pleasure while it lasted, and the great part is, it will be back next year, in spite of anything I may or may not do to it. It takes care of itself. It would be denser and produce more flowers if it were in less shade and was watered in dry spells and treated to fertilizer each year, and pruned a little. But Forsythia is not my only concern in life, so I let it take care of itself.
The easiest way to propagate Forsythia is to cut 4 or 5 twelve inch branches and stick them straight into the ground where you want them to grow. (Clay is OK). Keep them watered the first year, especially in dry spells, then before you know it you'll have a nice bush.

Rocks From Lake Superior

This plate of  "cookies"

was brought to me from the shores of Lake Superior at Whitefish Point, near the Edmund Fitzgerald Museum. (The Edmund Fitzgerald was lost with 29 souls aboard in 1975.) The collector of these beautiful rocks reported that it appeared that on this beach made of rocks, each one was different (isn't Nature wonderful?). I know that it must be a sight that lives long in memory, as this is only the second person I know personally who has visited Lake Superior, and both were struck by the stony beach. The waves were huge and pounding at the time these stones were gathered, and it was said that the waves and stones will grind many stones to sand in as little as 6 weeks from the time they arrive at the beach.

I call this a plate of cookies because every time I pass them sitting on the kitchen counter, I fleetingly think they are cookies and want to eat one.

Weather update: after 2 days of bitter (40's) wind that felt like it was off ice, this morning there was a pretty good frost. Just a reminder that we are not finished with frost yet, in spite of the warm temps  in February