September | 2025 | wordsfromanneli

September 30, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 51 Comments

Run, Miss Muffet!

Seasonal changes are happening in full force now that summer has said goodbye, and autumn is settling in with the morning dew. The colour of the leaves changes, the fruit is ripe and dropping on the ground, the geese are moving from one location to another, trying to settle into new patterns to accommodate the need for shelter and food as the days and nights are cooler.

Have you noticed the fruit flies and yellow jackets? Who better to take advantage of this new availability of food than the spiders? It’s the time when the tiny spiders try to come into the house and hang unnoticed in a ceiling corner.

The giant house spider also senses that it’s time to find more warmth and tries to come inside. While these black monsters are horrifying to me, it’s the fat beige ones that make me shudder most. They hang in the fruit trees and coat my hands with their sticky webs as I try to pick fruit. They build webs, across the corners of the door to my deck and between the hanging baskets and the wall – right in my face as I walk by.

But this one! This one gets the prize. The Captain was about to get into his old beater truck to move it. He opened the driver’s side door to get in, and stopped just in time before he might have ended up wearing this spider on his nose. The spider had caught something, but it was so wrapped up that it was hard to tell what poor insect was the victim. Yes, it’s spider time!

Intricate and complicated,

That’s how spider webs are rated,

Works of wowing wonder.

Delicate yet super strong,

Well-placed webs do not belong

Where the bee is busy.

Here she comes, the busy bee,

Much too late, she doesn’t see,

That this trap is fatal.

Spider leaps as insect weeps,

This is no game, this is for keeps,

Life so short, now shorter.

Sucked quite dry, the bee can’t fly,

And one more victim had to die,

Spider just gets fatter.

September 28, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 27 Comments

October – Goldengrove Unleaving

Spring and Fall – by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844 -1889)

to a young child

This poem is very famous and is taught in all the English classes in high school. Unfortunately, when we were in high school, we were too ignorant to really appreciate it.

Okay, not all of us were ignorant in high school, but I think it’s safe to say that many of us found this old poetry hard to understand with its twisted and jumbled sentence structure.

Here’s an example from Hopkins’ poem:

Leaves like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?

Why couldn’t the poets of that time, especially the English, just “speak English”? In those high school days, I remember thinking, what’s the good of a poem if I need someone to translate it to me (from English to English)? I still feel that way a little bit, but now, decades later, I can appreciate the language of poetry better.

BUT, having suffered through trying to understand this poem as a young adult, I now think of it every year at this time. As soon as our maple tree starts to lose its leaves, I find myself thinking (and my name is not Margaret),

“Margaret, are you grieving,

Over Goldengrove unleaving?”

And I always end up thinking, how incredibly sad it is to see those first leaves fluttering down, and I realize,

“It is Margaret that you mourn for.”

Here is Hopkins’ poem:

Spring and Fall

To a Young Child

Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow’s springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.

*****

I have learned to appreciate good poetry, but I tend to like the kind that is more fun and less serious. Limericks, funny ditties, rhyming fun.

Still, I have my favourite serious poems too, which I hope to share with you sometime soon.

How do you feel about poetry?

September 23, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 21 Comments

Something Fishy Going On

It looks like a dull, gray, foggy day. Most of us would be glad to be somewhere sunny, maybe with blue water instead of that dull gray stuff. But for the fly fisherman, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be just at this moment.

It looks like he could be lost in that fog, not knowing which way to go, but I don’t think he cares right now because he just had a nibble.

More than a nibble. It might be a whale. Sure the rod isn’t bent right over, but that’s just because the fish has stopped to take a breath.

Hey! Weren’t we taught never to stand up in a boat? Maybe this fish will pull the fisherman right over into the water. No worries. He’s wearing his lifejacket. It’s one of those slim ones that inflates if you hit the water.

Worst case scenario, his camera-wielding friend might have to put the camera down and go rescue his buddy.

It’s an addiction, it’s an affliction,

Spending the day on the sea.

Teasing the fish to come lie on the dish,

A wonderful dinner to be.

Sliding beneath the boat, silently there to gloat,

Lurking around in the dark,

Feeling so smug, as he snaps at a bug,

Grinning with glee like a shark.

Bug is all tangled and though it is mangled,

Now it has bitten the fish.

Spit it right out, and then thrash all about,

“If only!” The fish makes his wish.

Now who is smiling? This sport is beguiling,

Enticing the fish with a bug,

Everyone knows, why the fisherman chose

To be out here: “A tug is a drug.”

September 21, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 28 Comments

Emma’s Story

When I was just a baby, my older sister Ruby was the boss. She was always trying to tell me what to do.

One day, Anneli took my bed away, and I tried to claim what was left of it – just the inside part was left.

Ruby was playing the part of Miss Know-it-all.

Something moved out on the grass. Don’t forget, we’re hunting dogs. It’s our job to chase anything that moves.

But Anneli didn’t bring us food and she didn’t look like she was sorry for anything. She just laughed and said, “What are you doing in the wheelbarrow?”

Soon, while Ruby went to chase the rabbit, Anneli told me everything was okay. She had another bed fixed up for me on the deck. I tried for some compensation, but she didn’t go for it.

When she put me into the special bed on the bedroom deck, I was going to gloat a bit about how I had messed up her sliding door with nose prints. I was going to tell her, “Haha! So there! That’s what you get for making me worry about my bed,” but before I could tell her all that, I succumbed to the softness of the bed’s furry pillowcase, and off I went to Doggie Dreamland.

September 20, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 30 Comments

More Nuts Than Ever

I’m tired of washing, pitting, and freezing plums. The pears and apples are finished except for one winter apple tree that will be ready in about three weeks. So now it’s time to have a look at the walnut tree.

A closer look will show a few walnuts still hanging on. Some look dark and some quite green, but that is only the outer husk you are looking at. As the nut grows and the husk dries out, the nut and what’s left of its husk fall to the ground.

This one shouldn’t be too hard to pop out of its husk, but beware, the inside of that green coating stains like crazy. It would make a perfect “walnut” furniture stain. My hands always seem to end up looking like part of a walnut end table.

Once the husk is off the walnut, you can see the walnut that we are more familiar with, but it still needs some drying time. A burlap bag hung on the wall beside the woodstove is the perfect place to dry the walnuts.

Every couple of days I sneak some and take them to the woodshed as an offering to my squirrels.

“Thank you, Anneli,” Crispin chatters.

I love to have a change of food,

A different kind of nut,

The walnuts put me in a mood,

That makes me pat my gut.

The hazelnuts are such a treat,

I’ve packed a lot away,

But walnuts have delicious meat,

They’re best of all, I’d say.

I bite a hazelnut and run,

To hide it in a cache,

But walnuts are too big, no fun,

To lug them to my stash.

And this is why it’s oh, so fine,

To have them brought to me,

I know that all of them are mine,

To be devoured with glee.

September 18, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 37 Comments

Land of Plenty

Guess what I’ve been doing in between trying to get photos of Crispin helping himself to the nuts on our two trees.

It’s that time of year when everywhere you look there is work to do, but you know you’ll be glad you did it later.

The squirrels have been working hard to clean out the nut trees, and I finally decided I should go out there and seriously pick up the fallen nuts, and shake the trees to get more of them down. The pears, apples, and plums are a bonus (from their own trees, of course). May we never go hungry.

Harvest time is very fine,

Though my grapes won’t turn to wine,

Could it be that I’ve been grazing,

Eating all the grapes? Amazing!

But the hazelnuts are here,

Glad that they don’t disappear,

Good to know the squirrels will share,

There’s enough and some to spare.

September 14, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 27 Comments

Lunch with Crispin

Hi again! I’m Crispin. Remember me? I’m kind of small, but I’m not unimportant. I’d like you to watch a video clip of me eating a hazelnut. Please ignore Anneli’s unsteady hand with the camera. She’s getting old and a bit shaky sometimes. (But don’t tell her I said that).

So that’s how you do it. It takes two hands to spin it around as you eat, but that keeps it round. Kind of like licking an ice cream cone around and around so it doesn’t flop over. But don’t forget to put most of the nuts away for the winter.

Would you like me to peel one for you? Then we could have lunch together.

Hazelnuts are oh, so yummy,

Feel so good inside my tummy,

But there’s one important trick,

Learning how to peel them quick.

September 12, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 52 Comments

Not so Grisly Grizzlies

If you’re lucky enough to have a boat and can travel up Canada’s west coast, when you get close to the US (Alaska) border, you may find yourself near the Khutzeymateen Inlet, behind Somerville Island. You would then be in grizzly country. A few years ago, a friend anchored in this inlet and saw some of these wonderful bears on the beach nearby. He took these photos and I am posting them with his permission. Farther up the inlet, south of the Kateen River, is an area that, in 1994, was declared the Khutzeymateen Grizzly Bear Sanctuary.

This might not be the best place to go ashore to stretch your legs.

In case you were in doubt about what kind of bear this is, check out the hump on his (or her) back that identifies him (or her) as a grizzly. And no, he/she’s not a camel.

Camel, you say? Come over here and say that! Bruno, did you hear what he said? Just because my back has a hump….

Yeah! I heard. You’re no camel. I’ll “back” you up on that, Honey. Get it? Get it? Ha ha … “back” you up? Although … that is quite a hump you have there.

Now that’s enough out of you. You shouldn’t forget who your friends are. I might have to swim over to that boat and climb aboard to teach that guy a lesson.

It’s okay, Honey. Calm down. He’s just another gawking human. I’ll keep an eye on him from here while I eat some salad. Hmm … I wouldn’t mind a bit of hamburger with my grass. But I don’t see him coming ashore any time soon.

My thanks to Ken Johnstone who kindly allowed me to use his photos.

September 9, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 26 Comments

Young Heron

Hi! I’m a great blue heron.

Well, I’ve landed here, high up in a fir tree. Mom said it’s pretty safe and I should wait for her here.

But uh-oh. Do I hear a raven? Or is it a crow? Either way, they can be a real pain when they harass us. No wonder they call them a murder of crows when they get into a gang.

Whew! They’ve passed over. Time for a quick preening while I have the chance.

Those darn bugs. The second I sit in a tree, they get on me. Oh well, I had to straighten out my feathers anyway after that rough landing in these branches. But Mom said it’s safer here than out in the open where the eagles can see me.

Oh no! Is that an eagle up there? Mom said if they come after me, all I have to do is fly way up high in circles and keep going higher and higher, and after a while the eagles can’t keep up. They’re heavier than we are and can’t go as high.

Looks like they passed over. I hope Mom hurries up. I’m getting nervous up here.

I’m a heron, please stop starin’,

Thought I’d rest up in this tree.

Much attention, I must mention,

Might draw predators to me.

Though an eagle may seem regal,

They send terror vibes my way,

I take care and stay aware, and

Live to see another day.

September 7, 2025
by wordsfromanneli 36 Comments

Pronghorns, the Not-Antelope

Pronghorns are not really antelopes. They are related more closely to giraffes and okapis. I’m not big on trophy hunting, but I took this photo at the home of someone who is, and I find it useful to show what a pronghorn looks like up close. Apologies to the non-hunters. I have mixed feeling about the whole thing, but it’s not the purpose of this post to start a discussion of the topic of hunting. It is a natural thing for animals (including man) to hunt for food, but nowadays we let someone else do the killing for us. I like my steak once in a while, just as most people do, and yet I cry if I see an animal get hurt. So where’s the logic in that? And to be fair, the person who shot this pronghorn most likely ate the meat the way we eat beef.

As you can see, they have horns with a prong on them, but they don’t bother anyone unless they are desperate or trapped, perhaps up against a fence that they don’t like to jump. They prefer to crawl under fences, but that slows them down in their attempt to escape predators such as coyotes.

If necessary, they can run at close to 90 miles per hour for a short distance, but around 60 mph for a prolonged run. Since they are, otherwise, rather defenseless, it’s a good thing they are considered North America’s fastest land animal.

These pronghorns happened to be near a pullout on the highway in eastern Montana. I got a couple of quick photos but they didn’t want to hang around or come closer for a better picture.