An English In Kentucky


















Thursday May 23rd 2013    Tim Candler


    I'd like to think the Gnatcatcher in the Apple is one of the more generous minded birds. My own rampant pruning of limbs followed by gusty winds that knocked Peaches from Peach trees, and yet there is still a tail feather in the Gnatcatchers nest.  It's possible the nest has been abandoned as a poor choice of location, and into which no more effort will be put.  And maybe the tail feather is a feature of Gnatcatcher nests, rather than belonging to an actual Gnatcatcher that's brooding.

    One solution to the mystery would be to get a step ladder and take a look. Quite why I seem unable to do that has less to do with my own inflamed perceptions of the Gnatcatcher's opinion of me, and more to do with a reappraisal of  Stendhal's reaction to being in the presence of Florentine Art.  Which caused him to claim:  "Life was drained from me. I walked with fear of falling."   Round here, where I live, I have learned to call that Dizziness from Grass Pollen, and fortunately there are pills for it.


 Previous     Next