Michael Robert Dyet's Blog, page 46

Metaphors of Life Jourrnal: Hunting Muskie Countdown - Guest Blogger Benjamin's Ghost

NOTE: Benjamin, a background character in the title story in Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage, steps in today as guest blogger for Metaphors of Life Journal.

Hmmm, is it not a bit strange for a ghost to be the guest writer for Michael’s blog?

After all, I am already dead by the time the title story Hunting Muskie opens. But he says my viewpoint is unique because I know the history of the story’s main characters – my father Norman and older brother Tom – better than anyone else.

I guess I should start with Norman. Dad was a geologist – sorry, is a geologist. Dad always refuses to be referred to in the past tense in any context which should tell you a lot about him. He can be stubborn as the day is long – even more so since Mom died.

Dad was never much interested in organized religion. But there are a couple of things that he has made into his own religion.

The first one is the cottage at Rice Lake – or rather, Rice Lake itself and his cottage there. Dad has scrutinized everything there is to read about Rice Lake and the islands in it. He knows the history in minute detail going back a century or more. He schooled Tom and I on that history every time we were at the cottage as a family.

His other religion is fishing. Dad has devoted himself to it with a passion that borders on obsession. God help you if you go fishing with him and do not take it seriously. There is a perfect way to cast your line. The proper lures for every type of fish and the exact right way to work them. Even the one and only proper technique for setting the hook.

What can I say about my brother Tom? He and I were as different as night and day. Tom said I was more like Dad than I cared to admit. That might have been true. But Tom was much more what Dad expected in a son. He has a profession that met Dad’s approval. I always worked in construction and, no matter how well it paid, it did not quality as a profession to Dad.

Don’t get me wrong. I know Dad loves me. But he will never forgive for the foolhardy way I died and the fact that hit happened at his treasured cottage.

Now you know the back story to Hunting Muskie. The story itself takes place when Dad invites Tom to the cottage for a week of fishing. Actually, it was more of a summons than an invitation. It is obvious to Tom that Dad has something weighty on his mind. But you cannot make Dad talk about something until he is good and ready to do so.

Oh yes, there is a Muskie, the fish of ten thousand casts, to be caught. And some history that makes the battle extra special. But trust me, you do not have to be a fisherman to appreciate what that pivotal moment comes to mean.

Michael reminds me to tell you that Hunting Muskie is the title story in his short story collection. Do not get the mistaken impression that the whole book is about fishing. Apparently, there is juicy metaphor involved which probably will not surprise you!

~ Coming in October 2017: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Hunting Muskie Countdown: Guest Blogger Benjamin’s Ghost

Benjamin , a background character in the title story in Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage, steps in today as guest blogger for Metaphors of Life Journal.

Hmmm, is it not a bit strange for a ghost to be the guest writer for Michael’s blog?

After all, I am already dead by the time the title story Hunting Muskie opens. But he says my viewpoint is unique because I know the history of the story’s main characters – my father Norman and older brother Tom – better than anyone else.

I guess I should start with Norman. Dad was a geologist – sorry, is a geologist. Dad always refuses to be referred to in the past tense in any context which should tell you a lot about him. He can be stubborn as the day is long – even more so since Mom died.

Dad was never much interested in organized religion. But there are a couple of things that he has made into his own religion.

The first one is the cottage at Rice Lake – or rather, Rice Lake itself and his cottage there. Dad has scrutinized everything there is to read about Rice Lake and the islands in it. He knows the history in minute detail going back a century or more. He schooled Tom and I on that history every time we were at the cottage as a family.

His other religion is fishing. Dad has devoted himself to it with a passion that borders on obsession. God help you if you go fishing with him and do not take it seriously. There is a perfect way to cast your line. The proper lures for every type of fish and the exact right way to work them. Even the one and only proper technique for setting the hook.

What can I say about my brother Tom? He and I were as different as night and day. Tom said I was more like Dad than I cared to admit. That might have been true. But Tom was much more what Dad expected in a son. He has a profession that met Dad’s approval. I always worked in construction and, no matter how well it paid, it did not quality as a profession to Dad.

Don’t get me wrong. I know Dad loves me. But he will never forgive for the foolhardy way I died and the fact that hit happened at his treasured cottage.

Now you know the back story to Hunting Muskie. The story itself takes place when Dad invites Tom to the cottage for a week of fishing. Actually, it was more of a summons than an invitation. It is obvious to Tom that Dad has something weighty on his mind. But you cannot make Dad talk about something until he is good and ready to do so.

Oh yes, there is a Muskie, the fish of ten thousand casts, to be caught. And some history that makes the battle extra special. But trust me, you do not have to be a fisherman to appreciate what that pivotal moment comes to mean.

Michael reminds me to tell you that Hunting Muskie is the title story in his short story collection. Do not get the mistaken impression that the whole book is about fishing. Apparently, there is juicy metaphor involved which probably will not surprise you!

~ Coming in October 2017: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel – “ double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm at its internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you are reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

 

 

Hunting Muskie Countdown: Guest Blogger “Hurricane Ike”

The hero of Hurricane Ike, one of the stories in Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage, steps in today as guest blogger for Metaphors of Life Journal.

Hmmm, I am a bit uncomfortable doing this guest blogger thing. Pretty far outside my comfort zone.

Begin at the beginning, I guess. Can’t go wrong with that. My name is Ike, although most folks call me Hurricane Ike now. I’m not allowed to tell you why. Spoiler, I think is what they call it. You have to read the story about me to find out why.

I never imagined I would have a story written about me. I mostly just try to mind my own business and not be noticed. But that’s not easy to do when you are a full arm’s length taller than most people and built like a brick shithouse, as my father used to say

I expected to live my life alone, being the freak of nature that I am, and was okay with that. Yeah, loneliness got into my bones now and then. But we all have our crosses to bear.

Everything changed that day at the Texas Rice Festival. You need to understand, I don’t usually go to public events. Don’t know for certain why I decided to. You could say it was fate, as good an explanation as any. Anyway, that’s where I met Gibra and my life turned in a new direction.

Did I tell you where I hail from? A little town called High Island on the Texas coast. Haven’t ever been more than a few hundred miles from here. Never saw any reason to go anyplace else, although I might have changed my mind if I knew I would have to survive a hurricane.

Before you go picturing an actual island, let me set you straight. This area is mostly what they call coastal prairie and coastal marsh. You can go for miles without seeing a single tree.

High Island got its name because it sits on a salt dome. Now, I don’t know much about geography, but basically being on a salt dome means two things. First, we’re at a higher elevation most places on the coast. Something like forty feet higher which I guess kind of makes us a target.

Second, there is stuff in the soil that makes trees grow. We have woodlots here. Smith Oak Woods, for one. If it weren’t for the big Live Oaks that grow there, the story would be a god-awful sad one instead of a legend.

What more can I tell you without giving away too much? I love lighthouses. There are about a dozen of them still standing on the Texas coast. Think I would have made a good lighthouse keeper if that sort of job still existed. It was lighthouses that brought Gibra and I together. I doubt she would have given me a second look otherwise.

Other than that, well, there’s the Texas Ranger at the door, the picnic table that saved our lives, the bottlenose dolphin, the pelican, the abandoned rowboat, and of course, the gator I had to wrestle. They all figured into the story.

That’s pretty much all I’m allowed to tell you. I think you’ll like the story of Hurricane Ike. It is quite the epic tale, if I do say so myself.

~ Coming in October 2017: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Hunting Muskie Countdown: Guest Blogger “Hurricane Ike”

The hero of Hurricane Ike, one of the stories in Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage, steps in today as guest blogger for Metaphors of Life Journal.

Hmmm, I am a bit uncomfortable doing this guest blogger thing. Pretty far outside my comfort zone.

Begin at the beginning, I guess. Can’t go wrong with that. My name is Ike, although most folks call me Hurricane Ike now. I’m not allowed to tell you why. Spoiler, I think is what they call it. You have to read the story about me to find out why.

I never imagined I would have a story written about me. I mostly just try to mind my own business and not be noticed. But that’s not easy to do when you are a full arms length taller than most people and built like a brick shithouse, as my father used to say

I expected to live my life alone, being the freak of nature that I am, and was okay with that. Yeah, loneliness got into my bones now and then. But we all have our crosses to bear.

Everything changed that day at the Texas Rice Festival. You need to understand, I don’t usually go to public events. Don’t know for certain why I decided to. You could say it was fate, as good an explanation as any. Anyway, that’s where I met Gibra and my life turned in a new direction.

Did I tell you where I hail from? A little town called High Island on the Texas coast. Haven’t ever been more than a few hundred miles from here. Never saw any reason to go anyplace else, although I might have changed my mind if I knew I would have to survive a hurricane.

Before you go picturing an actual island, let me set you straight. This area is mostly what they call coastal prairie and coastal marsh. You can go for miles without seeing a single tree.

High Island got its name because it sits on a salt dome. Now, I don’t know much about geography, but basically being on a salt dome means two things. First, we’re at a higher elevation most places on the coast. Something like forty feet higher which I guess kind of makes us a target.

Second, there is stuff in the soil that makes trees grow. We have woodlots here. Smith Oak Woods, for one. If it weren’t for the big Live Oaks that grow there, the story would be a god-awful sad one instead of a legend.

What more can I tell you without giving away too much? I love lighthouses. There are about a dozen of them still standing on the Texas coast. Think I would have made a good lighthouse keeper if that sort of job still existed. It was lighthouses that brought Gibra and I together. I doubt she would have given me a second look otherwise.

Other than that, well, there’s the Texas Ranger at the door, the picnic table that saved our lives, the bottlenose dolphin, the pelican, the abandoned rowboat, and of course, the gator I had to wrestle. They all figured into the story.

That’s pretty much all I’m allowed to tell you. I think you’ll like the story of Hurricane Ike. It is quite the epic tale, if I do say so myself.

~ Coming in October 2017: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Metaphors of Life Journal: Hunting Muskie Countdown - Confessions of a Creation Addict

Hmmm, as I countdown to the release of "Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage", it seems like the right time to pull back the veil on the mysteries of the creative process.

Several decades ago, when I was a student, Margaret Atwood did a reading from her most recent work at York University. She also kindly consented to be interviewed by the university student newspaper.

I imagine the student who interviewed her was very intimidated. He no doubt agonized over his interview preparation to come up with what he deemed to be safe questions. But he hit an off-key note when he asked: What made you decide to become a writer? Atwood’s response was classic: A big thumb came down out of the sky, pointed at me and said YOU.

I believe her sarcastic response was meant to convey two messages. 1) I am very tired of answering that question! 2) No one decides to become a writer – or any type or artist, for that matter. At some point, you realize that it is what you were born to do and that you cannot be psychologically, emotionally or spiritually healthy unless you answer the call.

This is certainly true for me. From a young age, I fell in love with books. I recall regularly scouring the shelves of the Hagersville library which was appropriately housed in a musty old building in the middle of town. I would probably have spent the night there if permitted.

But a love of books does not always translate into the compulsion to be a writer. So what is the tipping point? Quite honestly, I believe it is encoded into my DNA. Writing is how I process what happens to me and around me. It is how I understand and interact with the world at large.

All forms of art are an act of audacious creation – an attempt to invent a new reality and live inside it for a period of time. When the act of creation is complete, the artist bequeaths the work as a gift to the world and moves on to the next act of creation.

Confession: I am a creation addict. I crave that rarefied state of mind where I can step outside the bounds of reality and wrap myself in a world of my own making. I perpetually exist with one foot in the real world and the other in the limitless world of my imagination.

So, you well may ask, are you one of those pie in the sky dreamers? Yes and no. I conjure worlds of my own making but I draw from real life as I conjure. I live inside my own head a great deal. But I always search for touchpoints with reality.

The sixteen stories in Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage were written over a period of eight years. Each one was a simultaneous process of looking inward and looking outward. So what connects the two?

If you follow this blog regularly, you can probably guess the answer. The metaphors of life, that I am programmed at the DNA level to perceive, are the connecting threads that empower me to coexist in parallel worlds. Yes, it is a bit disorienting. But such is the destiny of those of us who answer the call to be a writer.

In upcoming posts, I will let some of the characters from Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage emerge to speak on my behalf.

~ Coming in October 2017: "Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet"

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also the author of "Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel" which was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to Michael’s "Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm" at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Hunting Muskie Countdown: Confessions of a Creation Addict

Hmmm, as I countdown to the release of Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage, it seems like the right time to pull back the veil on the mysteries of the creative process.

Several decades ago, when I was a student, Margaret Atwood did a reading from her most recent work at York University. She also kindly consented to be interviewed by the university student newspaper.

I imagine the student who interviewed her was very intimidated. He no doubt agonized over his interview preparation to come up with what he deemed to be safe questions. But he hit an off-key note when he asked: What made you decide to become a writer? Atwood’s response was classic: A big thumb came down out of the sky, pointed at me and said YOU.

I believe her sarcastic response was meant to convey two messages. 1) I am very tired of answering that question! 2) No one decides to become a writer – or any type or artist, for that matter. At some point, you realize that it is what you were born to do and that you cannot be psychologically, emotionally or spiritually healthy unless you answer the call.

This is certainly true for me. From a young age, I fell in love with books. I recall regularly scouring the shelves of the Hagersville library which was appropriately housed in a musty old building in the middle of town. I would probably have spent the night there if permitted.

But a love of books does not always translate into the compulsion to be a writer. So what is the tipping point? Quite honestly, I believe it is encoded into my DNA. Writing is how I process what happens to me and around me. It is how I understand and interact with the world at large.

All forms of art are an act of audacious creation – an attempt to invent a new reality and live inside it for a period of time. When the act of creation is complete, the artist bequeaths the work as a gift to the world and moves on to the next act of creation.

Confession: I am a creation addict. I crave that rarefied state of mind where I can step outside the bounds of reality and wrap myself in a world of my own making. I perpetually exist with one foot in the real world and the other in the limitless world of my imagination.

So, you well may ask, are you one of those pie in the sky dreamers? Yes and no. I conjure worlds of my own making but I draw from real life as I conjure. I live inside my own head a great deal. But I always search for touchpoints with reality.

The sixteen stories in Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage were written over a period of eight years. Each one was a simultaneous process of looking inward and looking outward. So what connects the two?

If you follow this blog regularly, you can probably guess the answer. The metaphors of life, that I am programmed at the DNA level to perceive, are the connecting threads that empower me to coexist in parallel worlds. Yes, it is a bit disorienting. But such is the destiny of those of us who answer the call to be a writer.

In upcoming posts, I will let some of the characters from Hunting Muskie: Rites of Passage emerge to speak on my behalf.

~ Coming in October 2017: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is also the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm at its internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Knockdown Fastballs: The Myth of Invincibility Deconstructed

Hmmm, it seems I was long overdue for a reality check concerning my superhero fantasy.

We are gifted in our youth with the belief that we are invincible – possessed of a preternatural ability to dodge the numerous knockdown fastballs that life throws at us as an inevitable consequence of living. This belief is, of course, an illusion. The natural laws of life eventually catch up with us and claim their pound of flesh.

(Knockdown fastball: In the sport of baseball, a pitcher will occasionally throw directly at a batter in retaliation for an aggressive act by a player on the opposing team.)

I should have learned this lesson when my chronic back issues become too persistent and severe to disregard. I did relent and commit to weekly chiropractic treatments. But this is my one thing, I told myself. In all other respects, I remain untouchable.

Then I began to experience digestive system issues which advanced to more serious episodes. Reluctantly, I conceded I needed help and sought out medical guidance. I found a good naturopath, identified food sensitivities and, with some unwelcome motivations, cleaned up my indulgent eating habits.

Okay, that is it, I told myself. A couple of vulnerabilities shored up. All will be clear from here. Alas, I was still bargaining with fate when the big one hit. I will spare you the play-by-play other than to say it involved excruciating abdominal pain that landed me in the hospital by ambulance.

Diagnosis: Volvulus, aka twisted colon requiring surgery. Little did I know, another knockdown fastball was already heading my way. The day before surgery a coughing spell caused me to aspirate resulting in aspiration phenomena. My surgery was delayed by two days in ICU and another four days back in the surgery ward to recover.

I finally had the 2+ hour surgery a week and a half after entering the hospital. Another week in the hospital and now home recuperating for a few weeks.

The struggles of my hospital stay were mitigated somewhat by great nurses and the unwavering support of family and friends. But honestly, I would rather have been almost anywhere else. Close to the three weeks confined to a hospital bed and the halls of the surgery ward tested my patience to its limits.

So, with due humility, I confess: I am not invincible or immune. Nor am I a superhero with special powers of overnight recovery. Where the world of metaphor meets the real feet-on-the-ground world, knockdown fastballs have my number and I cannot always evade them. It is a sobering reality.

On the plus side, I learned many valuable lessons from this unpleasant experience. I have emerged on the other side a bit wiser and with a more realistic outlook on life.

~ Coming in October 2017: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of “Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel” – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to “Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm” at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Knockdown Fastballs: The Myth of Invincibility Deconstructed

Hmmm, it seems I was long overdue for a reality check concerning my superhero fantasy.

We are gifted in our youth with the belief that we are invincible – possessed of a preternatural ability to dodge the numerous knockdown fastballs that life throws at us as an inevitable consequence of living. This belief is, of course, an illusion. The natural laws of life eventually catch up with us and claim their pound of flesh.

(Knockdown fastball: In the sport of baseball, a pitcher will occasionally throw directly at a batter in retaliation for an aggressive act by a player on the opposing team.)

I should have learned this lesson when my chronic back issues become too persistent and severe to disregard. I did relent and commit to weekly chiropractic treatments. But this is my one thing, I told myself. In all other respects, I remain untouchable.

Then I began to experience digestive system issues which advanced to more serious episodes. Reluctantly, I conceded I needed help and sought out medical guidance. I found a good naturopath, identified food sensitivities and, with some unwelcome motivations, cleaned up my indulgent eating habits.

Okay, that is it, I told myself. A couple of vulnerabilities shored up. All will be clear from here. Alas, I was still bargaining with fate when the big one hit. I will spare you the play-by-play other than to say it involved excruciating abdominal pain that landed me in the hospital by ambulance.

Diagnosis: Volvulus, aka twisted colon requiring surgery. Little did I know, another knockdown fastball was already heading my way. The day before surgery a coughing spell caused me to aspirate resulting in aspiration phenomena. My surgery was delayed by two days in ICU and another four days back in the surgery ward to recover.

I finally had the 2+ hour surgery a week and a half after entering the hospital. Another week in the hospital and now home recuperating for a few weeks.

The struggles of my hospital stay were mitigated somewhat by great nurses and the unwavering support of family and friends. But honestly, I would rather have been almost anywhere else. Close to the three weeks confined to a hospital bed and the halls of the surgery ward tested my patience to its limits.

So, with due humility, I confess: I am not invincible or immune. Nor am I a superhero with special powers of overnight recovery. Where the world of metaphor meets the real feet-on-the-ground world, knockdown fastballs have my number and I cannot always evade them. It is a sobering reality.

On the plus side, I learned many valuable lessons from this unpleasant experience. I have emerged on the other side a bit wiser and with a more realistic outlook on life.

~ Coming in October 2017: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm at its internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 . Instructions for subscribing are provided in the Subscribe to this Blog: How To instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Metaphors of Life Journal: An Embarrassment of Riches in a Wildflower Patch

Hmmm, how often is the reward of perseverance a double blessing?

(Go to www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 to view the photographs in this post.)

I have been on vacation this past week. If you know me, you will know this means I have been hiking through meadows and along sunny woodland paths in search of the winged jewels of nature. Braving the hot, humid weather and passing thunderstorms to add species to my summer list.

As much as I love this pastime, it has become progressively more challenging to pursue in the 15 years I have been at it. Regrettably, there have been noticeably fewer of these delightful creatures to see as the years pass. Global warming and the extreme weather it breeds, and other implications of man’s environmental footprint, have taken their toll.

Earlier this week, I was butting up against that reality as I scoured one of my favourite conservation areas in the hope of adding one of the elusive Hairstreak butterflies to my year’s list. I had hiked 45 minutes down a usually productive trail with minimal results.

I turned off the main trail to check out an occasionally productive scrub area. Off to my left a patch of pinkish-purple wildflowers was in full bloom. I stopped in my tracks in awe (yes, we nature geeks do that on occasion) as I realized that the wildflower patch was a buzz of activity.

Bees, four species of butterflies and half a dozen Hummingbird Clearwing moths (like the one in the photo at the top of this post) had congregated there – drawn from near and far to feast on the wildflowers. I lingered there for 15 minutes to enjoy this unexpected but welcome spectacle.

It occurs to me now that this garden party of insects was representative – a random act of metaphor in my world – of the way life ebbs and flows. Days, weeks and even months pass during which we trudge along taking care of business and meeting our many obligations.

Then, quite without warning, we are gifted with an embarrassment of riches as a reward for our discipline and perseverance. The drudgery of life seems a little less imposing.

(Go to www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2 to view the photographs in this post.)

And yes, I did turn up this Striped Hairstreak butterfly on the return hike to the nature centre. So I was doubly blessed on this occasion when patience paid its dividend.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

~ Subscribe to Michael’s Metaphors of Life Journal aka Things That Make Me Go Hmmm at its’ internet home www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog2. Instructions for subscribing are provided in the “Subscribe to this Blog: How To” instructions page in the right sidebar. If you’re reading this post on another social networking site, come back regularly to my page for postings once a week.

Random Act of Metaphor: An Embarrassment of Riches in a Wildflower Patch

Hmmm, how often is the reward of perseverance a double blessing?

Hummingbird Clearwing Moth

I have been on vacation this past week. If you know me, you will know this means I have been hiking through meadows and along sunny woodland paths in search of the winged jewels of nature. Braving the hot, humid weather and passing thunderstorms to add species to my summer list.

As much as I love this pastime, it has become progressively more challenging to pursue in the 15 years I have been at it. Regrettably, there have been noticeably fewer of these delightful creatures to see as the years pass. Global warming and the extreme weather it breeds, and other implications of man’s environmental footprint, have taken their toll.

Earlier this week, I was butting up against that reality as I scoured one of my favourite conservation areas in the hope of adding one of the elusive Hairstreak butterflies to my years’ species list. I had hiked 45 minutes down a usually productive trail with minimal results.

I turned off the main trail to check out an occasionally productive scrub area. Off to my left a patch of pinkish-purple wildflowers was in full bloom. I stopped in my tracks in awe (yes, we nature geeks do that on occasion) as I realized that the wildflower patch was a buzz of activity.

Bees, four species of butterflies and half a dozen Hummingbird Clearwing moths (like the one in the photo at the top of this post) had congregated there – drawn from near and far to feast on the wildflowers. I lingered there for 15 minutes to enjoy this unexpected but welcome spectacle.

It occurs to me now that this garden party of insects was representative – a random act of metaphor in my world – of the way life ebbs and flows. Days, weeks and even months pass during which we trudge along taking care of business and meeting our many obligations.

Then, quite without warning, we are gifted with an embarrassment of riches as a reward for our discipline and perseverance. The drudgery of life seems a little less imposing.

Striped Hairstreak

And yes, I did turn up this Striped Hairstreak butterfly on the return hike to the nature centre. So I was doubly blessed on this occasion when patience paid its dividend.

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of Until the Deep Water Stills: An Internet-enhanced Novel – double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog .

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