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!
Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Read/Post Comments (1)
Share on Facebook



Cold wind at the river this morning raising foamy whitecaps, so I wasn't sure, but yes, way out at the end of the piling field, a lone male bufflehead diving and bobbing. Because they're black and white and stay far off shore the males are easy to mistake for whitecaps or even herring gulls. You have to watch closely; their white is brighter and they appear and disappear as they fish. The females are brown and hard to spot swimming among the pilings, but I looked and looked and I think this male was alone. Not surprising; they often migrate alone, and even when they come down in a flock, each one, especially the bachelor males, will take off in the morning for his own fishing territory.

High overhead in the last few weeks I've seen a few messy migratory V's that can only be Brant geese. Our locals haven't landed yet, but I saw a few in Brooklyn on Sunday, including one young guy who was still small and spotted, swimming with two adults clearly his parents. He must have been born late, and I'm impressed as all hell that he made it down here. Because the Brants breed up north and only come down to spend the winter (it's warmer here than somewhere, I guess) he was the first immature Brant I've ever seen. Cute, too.

Read/Post Comments (1)

Previous Entry :: Next Entry

Back to Top

Powered by JournalScape © 2001-2010 All rights reserved.
All content rights reserved by the author.