An English In Kentucky


















Sunday March 24th 2013    Tim Candler


   There are some, and I have been one of them, who will tell you that all Caucasian people look alike to Chinese people.  And there was a time when I would agree that all Mockingbirds look alike to all people. But the Girl Cedar Mockingbird does not look like other Mockingbirds to me.  Of the possible reasons why, I think probably the more accurate reason why, is because I have been so seduced by her I have become blinded to all other Mockingbirds.  Her quiet voice and movement has a loneliness that draws me to her in the way that sadness draws the heart to comforting.  And I am certain she watches me when I castigate the total inadequacy of the rabbit fence, and generally curse creatures that nibble.

    I found myself with a sudden need to find little things from newly  turned soil to offer her.  That large white grub that crawls on its back before becoming a June Beetle in July. A  most unattractive posse of them gathered where the Ladybirds were copulating, which  itself is not in the least a coordinated activity, it's the wing case and Turtle shape, I guess. But the grub of June Beetle, I reckoned would be like a bacon and egg sandwich with mayonnaise to a Girl Mockingbird. I picked two of them  up to take to her. She was near the bottle tree. As I walked the distance, warmth from my hand must have roused the June Beetle Grubs. I suddenly became very creeped out,  by their wriggling and I'm pretty sure one of them bit me. I felt rather foolish of course, and pretended that I too was interested in the condition of the compost piles.


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