Animal Stories for the New Year

 I'm actually trembling, I'm so excited to share this with you. 

Last June, the nationally syndicated radio program Living on Earth held a live interview with me, via Zoom, on my newest book, Saving Jemima: Life and Love with a Hard-luck Jay. If you missed it, it's at this link: https://tinyurl.com/zickonloe

I guess host Bobby Bascomb and the staff liked what happened last spring, because they've asked me back to tell some animal stories for their New Year's Day show, which will air all across the country on NPR affiliate stations, starting today, January 1, 2021, and continuing through the weekend.  You can listen here: https://tinyurl.com/zickanimals

a cottontail in my driveway in the morning, light coming through its ears (ever my favorite scenario)

Thinking about it a bit, though I have lots of good bird stories, for this special show I wanted to tell stories about the underdogs: animals most people consider varmints-- namely woodchucks and cottontail rabbits. As you know, I'm an avid gardener, and I've had more than my share of run-ins and losses to these mammals. But I still love them, and I work around them, because they were here before we were, and I believe that having a taste for my vegetables and flowers should not be a capital crime. 

In this podcast, I'll tell a couple stories about heroic mother rabbits, doing what they must to feed and protect their nests. And what it feels like to reach down through straw and fur and hit a nest of slick baby rabbits. 

There is also a woodchuck story. I love woodchucks as much as most people hate them. 

This is a magical woodchuck story. 

Obviously, my ulterior motive in telling these stories over National Public Radio is maybe to sway a few gentleman farmers and gardeners who might otherwise shoot rabbits and woodchucks, to pause and consider what is going on between those sweet ears, behind those dark eyes. 

Listening to the podcast, you'll hear some bewitching guitar music.

They are composed and performed by Josh Kimbrough, who happens to be my niece Katie Zickefoose's husband. I think they're the perfect pairing, don't you?

For more of Josh Kimbrough's music, and to buy his excellent new album, Slither, Soar and Disappear, 

 https://tompkinssquare.bandcamp.com/album/slither-soar-disappear

This, rather than calling it up on a streaming service, is how to support an independent artist. We get nothing when you listen on Spotify or Pandora. With song titles like "Sunbathing Water Snake" and "Backyard Hawk," Josh's beautiful finger-picking style is a perfect fit for this podcast, and your taste!

Go here to listen to my part of the Living on Earth podcast:

https://tinyurl.com/zickanimals

And for the entire show, go here:

https://loe.org/shows/shows.html?programID=21-P13-00001 

If you're an habitual podcast listener, just look for the Living on Earth podcast on your favorite app.

My deepest thanks to Bobby Bascomb, Jenni Doering and the fabulous staff at Living on Earth for featuring these tales of the underdogs and Josh's beautiful music for a brand new year. 

And the Chrysalis Became...

A small, unknown but very sweet and beautiful chrysalis found May 28, which oddly enough would have been my dear mother Ida's 100th birthday. How fitting, to find a little mystery on her birthday, something pregnant and wonderful. 

Mama had me when she was 38. That was considered impossibly old in 1958. I'm so very glad she did. Sigh! Thank you for this gift of life, Mom! I am enjoying it so much.

We wondered and wondered about this little capsule. What would it be? As naturalists do, I looked around to see what was abundant right now, what was hatching out, and I thought about it. I decided it might be a small wood satyr, based on who was bouncing along the woodland edges at the time. 

I purposely did not want to Google it, because I didn't want to spoil the surprise.

The chrysalis got darker and darker. That could mean it was getting ready to eclose, a nice word describing the moment a butterfly emerges. Or it could mean it had died. I decided it had to be the first choice. I kept sniffing it, in a Science Chimpy way, to make sure it was still with the living. Yep. 

If you click you might be able to see the threadlike segmented antennae running down from its squarish eye. The head got a lot more prominent in the last couple of days.

I've shoved its support stick into plasticene so it can't possibly tip over and squash itself, and also so it has room to hang from the chrysalis once it comes out.

I checked that little thing probably 20 times the morning of June 1. And then stuff kept happening and a couple of packages came with the mail and we got all excited about it, and I went to move the little critter keeper and saw A SMALL WOOD SATYR where there had once been a CHRYSALIS!!!

I just don't get a whole lot more excited than this. SO BEAUTIFUL!! Appearing like magic! When I wasn't looking, of course!

Its wings were wet and floppy when I found it. Oh, how I wished I'd seen it pumping them full of fluid! Oh well. I was thrilled beyond thrilled that it was alive and hatched out without a hitch.

After maybe three hours, it was ready to go, bouncing off the walls of its critter keeper. The kids and I carried it out to the orchard and Phoebe made this little video. Warning--there is high-pitched squeeing from me. I made the same sound when I caught my first northern pike.

Resting after its big morning, in perfect habitat, in the orchard I've been working so hard to clean up.

Speaking of hard work, the Living on Earth presentation went off without a hitch. I was dang proud to have been my own techie on it, too. Well, I had plenty of help from the LOE staff, who were WONDERFUL to work with. And interviewer Bobby Bascomb couldn't have been more sensitive, wide-ranging, or beautifully prepared in her questions. Wow. We had well in excess of 300 people watching the Zoom presentation, including many friends, family and Zickfans, and it was exciting for me to make my way through such tall corn, talking about blue jays, my favorite topic. Well, one of them.

My setup in the good Internet at the Bird Watcher's Digest office. I taped a bird-themed huipil from Guatemala over my head. The wee square hole is for a person's head--it's kind of like a poncho. I couldn't get my head through that hole to save my life, but I bought it for the fabric. 

If you'd like to listen to it (and you should, if you've never been to one of my talks but would like to), it's archived on the Facebook page of Living on Earth. Here's the link:

https://tinyurl.com/jemimareplay

Be aware that the first several minutes are devoted to a holding screen, while we waited for everyone to arrive and get set up. So hit Play with the volume up and tune in when you hear voices. I hope you enjoy the presentation as much as we enjoyed creating it! 

Zick on Living on Earth! Yes, That Show on NPR!

The meadow last evening. That's real. Surreal, even, but I was there seeing that light slamming across the grasstops.

Virtual. Virtual is a hard word for someone so grounded in the real, so connected to the minuscule and the larger happenings in nature. I am not a huge fan of virtual anything. However, I'm warming to the concept, mostly because I have to. If Zoom is the only way I'm going to get to see my family, I'll take it. We're all so far-flung that we're actually talking more now than before quarantine. Still, not getting to see my sisters and nieces and nephews when I was to have my May booktour in Massachusetts, New Jersey and Connecticut hurts. I miss them. I wanna see some of these sweet grand-nieces and nephews, too!!

I've left the left sidebar of my blog, where all the speaking engagements live, untouched. I know I should remove them, because none of them are happening now, but I'm superstitious about it. So there they sit, links and all, and I'm assuming everybody knows they won't and can't happen. That's bad practice, but there you go. I had a lot invested in that book tour. It was where I could introduce Jemima to everyone in person. I could sign books for people. I could shake their hands or give them a hug, as warranted. All that seems like a distant dream now. And, as has happened to so many others the world around, the spring income I'd counted on vanished like snow in May. We're all having to do some fancy footwork to compensate.

One event in my canceled book tour is still happening though, at 6:30 pm on June 1, 2020, and I'm over the moon about it! It's here: Living on Earth: Good Reads on Earth with Mass Audubon. Yes, that "Living on Earth," that you hear on National Public Radio! Woot! I feel very lucky!

Clicking that link will allow you to register in advance to get in on the Zoom videoconference between the wonderful radio host Bobby Bascomb and me. (You won't be on the screen, but Bobby and I will).  We'll talk about blue jays and Saving Jemima, and I know it's going to be a ton of fun. If you haven't Zoomed, it's easy; you just click a link and are admitted to the meeting. Zooming's just one of those skills we all have to pick up in the Age of Rapid Accomodation to Everything Being Upside Down. You'll have an opportunity to ask me questions, live, at the end of the interview, which should be fun for everyone.

Remember Jemima?? 

I did a Facebook post about the event last week, and the 100 spaces available for the webinar filled almost immediately! In response, Living on Earth increased the capacity to 5,000! Isn't that cool? It reminds me of one of my favorite things to hear when I travel to give a talk: the scrape and clang of more folding chairs coming out of the closet. It's virtual, but it's real in its own way.

It's a great honor to be part of this series. I've always loved listening to "Living on Earth," and now I get to be a part of the show. Won't you join us?  Click here!  Living on Earth: Good Reads on Earth with Mass Audubon