augury doggerel

Friday, November 30, 2001

Truck, Toddler, Turds

There are no sewer lines out here where I work. A bright orange shit truck comes to work at least once a week to empty the company septic tank. Today, one of the two guys in the truck brought a kid no more than three years old. He played and laughed with her on the snowy lawn while our turds swam upstream to the back of his truck.

Fog, Heron

Another foggy morning. Another heron, or the same heron, white or gray. Czapla siwa? Flying in the same direction, and back again this time. Isn't it a bit too far north?

Thursday, November 29, 2001

Fog, Heron, Buzzard

There's snow on the ground and, though today is foggy and above freezing, it has been quite cold. Then why did a heron just fly out of the fog?

And our buzzard watches.

Tuesday, November 27, 2001


The buzzard is back. If she's still here after the cold this week, I think she'll stay the winter.

How much do mice cost?

Monday, November 26, 2001

Gone, Dark

Our buzzard is gone.

Bus reading was "Richard III", is Irrational Man (Barrett).

The days are dark again. I left home after 6:00 in the dark, it's dark now, and it will be dark when I leave work, dark when I get home. The lights in the bus throb a faint orange, waxing and waning with the speed of the engine.

Friday, November 23, 2001

Buzzard, Snow, Piano

We've been watching a big brown buzzard (Buteo buteo) from our windows at work all week. She lands on the crossbars of the football goals at either end of the company pitch, then mouses on the pitch and in the high grass adjacent. Sometimes we watch her hold some poor beastie in her great yellow claws and stretch and tear the little bugger to pieces with her beak.

And this morning, the first real snow of the season is coming down. I hope this doesn't convince our buzzard friend to fly further south.

At home, we now have a piano. I can't play, but the other two can. I suppose I'll strum along on my guitar. Or learn piano.

Bus reading this week was "Macbeth".