me in the piazza

I'm a writer, publishing both as SJ Rozan and, with Carlos Dews, as Sam Cabot. (I'm Sam, he's Cabot.) Here you can find links to my almost-daily blog posts, including the Saturday haiku I've been doing for years. BUT the blog itself has moved to my website. If you go on over there you can subscribe and you'll never miss a post. (Miss a post! A scary thought!) Also, I'll be teaching a writing workshop in Italy this summer -- come join us!
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orchids

Now I'm a menace

And it's Mr. Sibley's fault. I can now tell you that the pair of geese I saw yesterday, floating closer to shore than the Canada geese we usually have around here -- the ones everyone has, pretty much, which are "Common" Canada geese -- are Richardson's geese, not rare but newcomers to this part of the river, probably just passing through, or wintering over until it's time to go back to, well, Canada. And I can tell you that at low tide this morning, the line of geese nibbling barnacles off the seawall, looking for all the world like horses at a trough except for the way they were bobbing up and down, are Brants, but not the rare black Brant. I also saw a female bufflehead, alone, also close to the wall. Buffleheads are a riot because they always look like they have a schedule to keep. She dove, popped up, swam very busily north, dove again, and kept at it, making a beeline north as though she had some particular place to go and a time she had to be there and she was grabbing breakfast on the run. Or rather, on the paddle. I don't know if she's the female of the pair who were hanging around a few weeks ago with a single male, or if she's on her own. Buffleheads seem pretty independent, though, as opposed to, say, mallards, who quack nervously if they lose sight of each other -- so maybe she just decided it was time to fly south, and picked up and left.


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