Portraits of the Wild World | Unique Wildlife Photography
The tiniest lineman anchored to the earth,
a Greater Angle-wing Katydid itching for a scrimmage,
opponents fear-starred in his eyes.
I’m happy to announce I’ll be joining Bees in Art Gallery in the UK,
sister gallery to The Land Gallery, exhibiting artwork by leading artists
inspired by bees and other Hymenoptera.
Bees in Art is curated by Andrew Tyzack, graduate of The Royal College of Art,
London, UK and third generation beekeeper. Andrew runs several beehives and
paints in the East Riding of Yorkshire, UK.
More gallery information and my Bees In Art news announcement.
Here’s a tiny insect Olympian, small enough
to use a blade of grass to do chin-ups,
ghosts of other bees pass by in the background.
This little athlete also appears in my book featuring the world of bees, Bee Dreams.
Here’s a cartoon from my friend Kurt Erichsen.
In the world of cartoons, Kurt has written and drawn the syndicated gay & lesbian comic strip Murphy’s Manor since 1982. His work has appeared in Gay Comics, and his wit brought Socially Redeeming Value to the One-Handed Meatmen cartoon books. Additionally, he has done freelance cartooning, including this illo for the Missouri State Teachers’ Association magazine. Kurt calls it “Frog Feast”. Yum.
Kurt first got involved in comics fandom through fanzines and apas, and continues as a regular contributor to zines including Reluctant Famulus and Challenger.
The aftermath of a skirmish over a seed,
a pair of finches bicker throughout the morning,
the loser falling away,
ready to fight again.
I’m bewildered by a fierce and determined grackle,
his motivations murky, leaving unanswered questions
in his angry wake.
Biologist and theorist E. O. Wilson has a story, Trailhead,
in the current issue of The New Yorker.
Here’s an excerpt and an image of two curious ants:
The Trailhead Queen was dead.
Ants live most of their lives in underground darkness, they cannot communicate through sight or sound. Pheromonal, they think only in taste and smell. The members of the Trailhead Colony transmitted their messages using about a dozen chemical signals, which they picked up by smelling one another constantly with sweeps of their antennae.
The Trailhead Colony, when all the learning and thought of its workers came together, was very smart, by insect standards — and, with the unifying power of its Queen lost and its population growth plummeting, it needed to call on that group intelligence to regain its balance.
A few warm-ups now, but nothing like the workouts
to come for one of the tiniest Olympians.
Count the number of ants on the road to to Vancouver.
Watch my confusion and surprise,
as if the whole world has turned to midnight all at once,
whatever mischief I expected,
it was not she I thought to find!
For Kathe
A male house finch cries out in judgment,
not sure he likes the 21st Century.
A fearless bundle of wings and fury
enough to set every bone a-tremble,
a grackle hangs tough.
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