Showing posts with label
The Sewanee Mountain Messenger.
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Showing posts with label
The Sewanee Mountain Messenger.
Show all posts
I heard them behind me before I saw them: one couple and two women, going opposite directions, both stopping to ask, "What are you looking at?"
"Dragonflies." I pointed. "See straight over there, in front of the bank? There's a big one depositing eggs. She's slapping the water and coming back up."
"Yes," they all responded.
"Great Blue Skimmers," I said.
"Wait! Are the one who wrote the article?" one of the women walkers asked.
I admitted as much and they wanted to know more. So I told them more about what I wrote in Nature Notes (page 14 of The Sewanee Mountain Messenger).
They went on their way and I, mine.
What I didn't tell them is this: I spent the better part of the day taking bad picture after bad picture. But dadgum it was fun. Now that I have the right waterproof hiking shoes and a fancy new lens, I don't care about quality or fame. Just give me the opportunity to climb around, find beautiful bugs, and shoot!
I used to read paper newspapers -- the kind that are thick with advertisements on Sundays and ink that rubs off on the fingers and that someone throws toward the front door every morning.
Now I read The New York Times, The New Orleans Times-Picayune, and The Nashville Tennessean every morning online. I choose the sections and the articles and wonder what it would be like to hold the newspapers while I spoon my oatmeal and sip my tea. It's just not the same.
Every Thursday, however, I look forward to picking up my real copy of The Sewanee Mountain Messenger, usually at the post office, where I park, leave my bags in my unlocked car, and wander in to the table near the mailboxes. The Messenger is a strange and strangely seductive read: financed in part by the university, advertising, and The Sewanee Community Chest, the paper is produced by a stalwart staff, including current and former professors. It's a public relations tool for the college, sure, but it also features pets of the week up for adoption, a charming "Nature Notes" column by the Yeatmans, and another equally entertaining poetry column called "From Bard to Verse" by Scott and Phoebe Bates (he taught my brother French here in the late 1950s and he was an active supporter of The Highlander Folk School).
My favorite page features letters to the editor. Several years ago, there were vigorous arguments about Gene Robinson (a college graduate) who spoke here after being elected Bishop in New Hampshire. Of late , there has also been a running argument about whether Obama is Christian. Today's paper featured a follow-up letter by some folks I know about the recent chemical spraying of wildflowers lining a road down into the valley below.
Now that I've been here for a while, I recognize most of the people and places mentioned every week, and that makes me feel good. Why? I am finally beginning to feel like I belong.
