linkboy (lingk’boi) n. A boy formerly hired to carry a torch to guide persons along dark streets.

(found in: The American Heritage Dictionary, 2nd College Ed.)

scull | skull

Found on the homophone trail at Pierce's Park, Baltimore, Maryland.

Found on the homophone trail at Pierce’s Park, Baltimore, Maryland.

a knoblike process

Creeping crepuscule, descrescent light, harbinger of dreaded return to EST, where darkness dampens day’s early end. Decumbent drone diminishes daily, drowsy in the drawing room. Sip long from murky melodies, muddy froth spilling forth in rivulets, dirgeful delights diverging in drone’s ear canals. Mellifluous miasma of musical melancholia!

Dismantling of outdoor seating commences! Desperate attempts to affect staring at nothing continues. Doctor Chumply the Mouth Breather appears, Mickey D’s in hand, heart-attack-in-waiting, following with tiny aggrieved steps the trail of nitroglycerin tablets strewn across the decking. Take the elevator, not the stairs, for they are locked, despite the sign in the kitchen encouraging good health through stairs-taking. O, Dr. Chumply, what will become of you, will you follow those tablets to the Haunted Wood™ where the witch stokes her stove as she awaits your fleshly delights.

[But Christine, what of loneliness, standing there behind the invisibility cloak, always working, always writing, what did engagement mean for you, O Invisible Author, did you drape yourself in a duvet woven with words…]


lumpfish: Any of various fishes of the family Cyclopteridae, especially Cyclopterus lumpus of North Atlantic waters, having pelvic fins united to form a suction disk and a body bearing prominent tubercles.

tubercle: A small, rounded prominence or process, such as a wartlike excrescence on the roots of some leguminous plants or a knoblike process in the skin or on a bone.

Quick now! Homophone challenge question: would you rather your words resonate or resinate. Think about it while staring into the clouds.


nothing = goth inn

something = ghost mine

anything = tiny hang

everything = the very gin

mole crickets

mole cricket (mōl) n. Any of various burrowing crickets of the family Gryllotalpidae, having short wings and front legs well adapted for digging and feeding mainly on the roots of plants. (Source: The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 3rd ed.)

External notes: Three species are invasive in the southeastern U.S. where they are noted garden pests. The Northern mole cricket is native to the eastern and central U.S., where it lives in grasslands, meadows, and prairie ecosystems.

Internal notes: After the fact, I heard about a cricket census in my geographic area. Citizens and scientists walked around one evening and noted all the singing crickets and katydids. I wonder if mole crickets sing when they are underground.

Anagrams into: Lick more, etc.

This was another fortuitous dictionary find. The dictionary continues to be a welcome source of solace. I want to crawl inside its pages and stroll around, maybe set up a lean-to near the binding and camp out for a while. There is so much to see! So many interesting little photos of wondrous things of every variety under the sun. So many new words to devour.

severed rat head portends…something…

The extreme is only extreme when seen through another pair of eyes.

If there’s a problem someone has studied it, but likely not solved it.

If you were to invite disaster to dinner, what would you serve it.

If everybody hurts, why do they keep inflicting more pain.

Are certain things actually bad for us or are we just bad at handling certain things…

Removal from one’s environment alters perception.

(But for how long. For. How. Long.)

Places feel a certain way and it’s hard not to notice.

Somewhere else slows time’s passing (is this why some people love to travel).

A wall is a wall until one climbs on top and then it is a perch.

The familiar done in new ways is better than the new done in familiar ways.

If you run in circles you always finish what you start.

The end of the world no longer frightens me.

molloy’s mist

“All that through a glittering dust, and soon through that mist too which rises in me every day and veils the world from me and veils me from myself”—Samuel Beckett, Molloy

More on mist here and here.

corn crake

Corn Crake

Drawing of the Corncrake from Naumann, Natural History of Birds in Central Europe, Volume VII, Table 15 – published 1899

I want to see a Corncrake (Crex crex), also known as Corn Crake. I think I prefer the two word spelling, but I’m not sure yet. In this post I will test out both. We don’t have Corn Crakes here in the U.S. Last year someone claimed to have seen one in Maryland, but it was never verified. Seems unlikely…that would be extreme vagrancy. Corncrakes are in the rail family, a group of secretive mostly marsh-dwelling birds known for mystical practices like turning sideways and disappearing. One Maryland birder reported seeing a rail literally walk through a fence. Unlike other rails, though, corncrakes live on dry land. They prefer grasslands, especially hayfields. Corn Crakes, like most rails, are notoriously difficult to spot. The corn crake was also a threatened species for some time due to changes in mowing practices and loss of habitat. Numbers remain low in western Europe; however, increased monitoring determined that due to its expansive range, the species is actually not in any immediate danger of disappearing.

I’ll admit that the only reason I really want to see a Corncrake is because I love its name. And frankly speaking, I really don’t care if I get to see one or not. I’m just glad it’s out there doing its things. Corn Crake may just be my favorite name of any bird in the world that I know of. I also like Wood Stork, but I’ll save that for another day. Corncrake makes me think of autumn. Sometimes when I am sad I just think Corn Crake and I feel better. Corn Crake. Corn Crake. Corn Crake. Corn Crake. Corncrake. Sometimes it’s like that and it doesn’t take much. Other times a bit more. What can you do. Oh, whatever can you do. Not much other than think about Corncrake and hope for safe passage to the other side.

  • Recent Posts

  • Navigation Station

    The links along the top of the page are rudimentary attempts at trail markers. Otherwise, see below for more search and browse options.

  • In Search of Lost Time

  • Personal Taxonomy

  • Common Ground

  • Resources