Remembering the poetry of erstwhile poster Van Bagnol

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Claire Petersky

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The chain was a ribbon of rivets, slick as an owl's snot,
The bulb was a ghostly halogen, its filament glowing hot,
The road was a sinew of darkness, but my light was steady and bright.
My frame was the color of egg yolk,
The moonlight glint from my wheel spoke
As I savored the spin of my pedal stroke, into the jeweled night

--
Warm Regards,

Claire Petersky
http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/
See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky
 
Claire Petersky wrote:
> The chain was a ribbon of rivets, slick as an owl's snot,
> The bulb was a ghostly halogen, its filament glowing hot,
> The road was a sinew of darkness, but my light was steady and bright.
> My frame was the color of egg yolk,
> The moonlight glint from my wheel spoke
> As I savored the spin of my pedal stroke, into the jeweled night
>
> --
> Warm Regards,
>
> Claire Petersky
> http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/
> See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky

I have to wonder how that person developed an intimate familiarity with
the snot of an owl?

Phil Wood grease, maybe, WD40, maybe but OWL SNOT, purleeze!

Lewis.

*****
 
Claire Petersky wrote:
> The chain was a ribbon of rivets, slick as an owl's snot,
> The bulb was a ghostly halogen, its filament glowing hot,
> The road was a sinew of darkness, but my light was steady and bright.
> My frame was the color of egg yolk,
> The moonlight glint from my wheel spoke
> As I savored the spin of my pedal stroke, into the jeweled night
>
> --
> Warm Regards,
>
> Claire Petersky
> http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/
> See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky

I have to wonder how that person developed an intimate familiarity with
the snot of an owl?

Phil Wood grease, maybe, WD40, maybe but OWL SNOT, purleeze! :)

Lewis.

*****
 
Claire Petersky wrote:
> The chain was a ribbon of rivets, slick as an owl's snot,
> The bulb was a ghostly halogen, its filament glowing hot,
> The road was a sinew of darkness, but my light was steady and bright.
> My frame was the color of egg yolk,
> The moonlight glint from my wheel spoke
> As I savored the spin of my pedal stroke, into the jeweled night
>
A: If Alfred Noyes were alive today, he'd be spinning in his grave.

Z: But if he were alive....

A: This would kill him!
 
On 2007-01-05, [email protected] <[email protected]> wrote:

> Claire Petersky wrote:
>> The chain was a ribbon of rivets, slick as an owl's snot,
>> The bulb was a ghostly halogen, its filament glowing hot,
>> The road was a sinew of darkness, but my light was steady and bright.
>> My frame was the color of egg yolk,
>> The moonlight glint from my wheel spoke
>> As I savored the spin of my pedal stroke, into the jeweled night

> I have to wonder how that person developed an intimate familiarity with
> the snot of an owl?

There are great sacrifices expected of the True Artist; remember that
the next time you are tempted to denigrate a poet.

--

John ([email protected])
 
In article <[email protected]>,
[email protected] writes:
>
> Claire Petersky wrote:
>> The chain was a ribbon of rivets, slick as an owl's snot,
>> The bulb was a ghostly halogen, its filament glowing hot,
>> The road was a sinew of darkness, but my light was steady and bright.
>> My frame was the color of egg yolk,
>> The moonlight glint from my wheel spoke
>> As I savored the spin of my pedal stroke, into the jeweled night
>>
>> --
>> Warm Regards,
>>
>> Claire Petersky
>> http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/
>> See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky
>
> I have to wonder how that person developed an intimate familiarity with
> the snot of an owl?

By riding a lot at night.

As a matter of fact, during my last ride into work I
had an owl swoop across my line right in front of me,
to pick up a big rat or muskrat or something. It was
really quite an elegant manoeuver. I guess the owl
wanted to get his prey before my approach scared it off.

Up in our local Western Cordillera mountains, one can
sometimes see a tree whose grain is obviously twisted
around like a twirled wet dishcloth. That's the work
of the Ratchet Owl[*]. They grasp the top of the tree
in their beak, and fly around in tight little circles
until the tree is irrecoverably mangled.

To stew an owl, one must immerse it in water in a large
cast iron Dutch oven along with a large rock, and boil
the heck out of it. When you can easily stick a fork
into the rock, the owl is done.


cheers,
Tom

[*] I can also tell you about the side-hill gouger[**],
if you like.

[**] A six-legged mammal.



--
Nothing is safe from me.
Above address is just a spam midden.
I'm really at: tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca
 
"Tom Keats" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...

> As a matter of fact, during my last ride into work I
> had an owl swoop across my line right in front of me,
> to pick up a big rat or muskrat or something. It was
> really quite an elegant manoeuver. I guess the owl
> wanted to get his prey before my approach scared it off.


Or maybe your approach flushed out the prey, the owl saw its opportunity,
and took off.

--
Warm Regards,

Claire Petersky
http://www.bicyclemeditations.org/
See the books I've set free at: http://bookcrossing.com/referral/Cpetersky
 
"Tom Keats" wrote: (clip) That's the work
> of the Ratchet Owl[*]. They grasp the top of the tree
> in their beak, and fly around in tight little circles
> until the tree is irrecoverably mangled. (clip)
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
That's a commonly held belief among those who don't know much about owls.
In actuality, since an owl is able to turn its head completely around an
unlimited number of times, they are able to twist young trees without flying
in circles. This is why they are called "ratchet owls." If they had to fly
in circles, they would probably be called "box wrench owls."
 
In article <[email protected]>,
"Leo Lichtman" <[email protected]> writes:
>
> "Tom Keats" wrote: (clip) That's the work
>> of the Ratchet Owl[*]. They grasp the top of the tree
>> in their beak, and fly around in tight little circles
>> until the tree is irrecoverably mangled. (clip)
> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
> That's a commonly held belief among those who don't know much about owls.
> In actuality, since an owl is able to turn its head completely around an
> unlimited number of times, they are able to twist young trees without flying
> in circles. This is why they are called "ratchet owls." If they had to fly
> in circles, they would probably be called "box wrench owls."

That's so reasonable, it's gotta be true ;-)
Thanks for the edification.


cheers,
Tom

--
Nothing is safe from me.
Above address is just a spam midden.
I'm really at: tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca
 
"Tom Keats" <[email protected]> wrote in message
news:[email protected]...
> In article <[email protected]>,
> "Leo Lichtman" <[email protected]> writes:
>>
>> "Tom Keats" wrote: (clip) That's the work
>>> of the Ratchet Owl[*]. They grasp the top of the tree
>>> in their beak, and fly around in tight little circles
>>> until the tree is irrecoverably mangled. (clip)
>> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
>> That's a commonly held belief among those who don't know much about owls.
>> In actuality, since an owl is able to turn its head completely around an
>> unlimited number of times, they are able to twist young trees without
>> flying
>> in circles. This is why they are called "ratchet owls." If they had to
>> fly
>> in circles, they would probably be called "box wrench owls."
>
> That's so reasonable, it's gotta be true ;-)
> Thanks for the edification.
>
>
> cheers,
> Tom
>
> --
> Nothing is safe from me.
> Above address is just a spam midden.
> I'm really at: tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca

Why do they twist the top of trees?
 
On Mon, 08 Jan 2007 19:07:29 GMT, "nash"
<[email protected]> wrote:

>
>"Tom Keats" <[email protected]> wrote in message
>news:[email protected]...
>> In article <[email protected]>,
>> "Leo Lichtman" <[email protected]> writes:
>>>
>>> "Tom Keats" wrote: (clip) That's the work
>>>> of the Ratchet Owl[*]. They grasp the top of the tree
>>>> in their beak, and fly around in tight little circles
>>>> until the tree is irrecoverably mangled. (clip)
>>> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
>>> That's a commonly held belief among those who don't know much about owls.
>>> In actuality, since an owl is able to turn its head completely around an
>>> unlimited number of times, they are able to twist young trees without
>>> flying
>>> in circles. This is why they are called "ratchet owls." If they had to
>>> fly
>>> in circles, they would probably be called "box wrench owls."
>>
>> That's so reasonable, it's gotta be true ;-)
>> Thanks for the edification.
>>
>>
>> cheers,
>> Tom
>>
>
>Why do they twist the top of trees?
>
To make fancy walking sticks.
--
zk
 
"nash" Why do they twist the top of trees?
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
1.) Because the bottom is rooted to the ground.
2.) Because that is the part that is most accesible to a bird in flight.
3.) Owls don't need a reason. It's people who are always looking for
reasons. You must be a person.
 
In article <[email protected]>,
"Leo Lichtman" <[email protected]> writes:
>
> "nash" Why do they twist the top of trees?
> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
> 1.) Because the bottom is rooted to the ground.
> 2.) Because that is the part that is most accesible to a bird in flight.
> 3.) Owls don't need a reason. It's people who are always looking for
> reasons. You must be a person.

Birds do all kinds of weird stuff.
They're inscrewtable.


cheers,
Tom

--
Nothing is safe from me.
Above address is just a spam midden.
I'm really at: tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca
 
> 1.) Because the bottom is rooted to the ground.
<<<<<<

I guess you have not seen Stanley Park lately.
You must be an owl.
 
In article <ohEoh.582877$1T2.289947@pd7urf2no>,
"nash" <[email protected]> writes:
>> 1.) Because the bottom is rooted to the ground.
> <<<<<<
>
> I guess you have not seen Stanley Park lately.
> You must be an owl.

I got used to working graveyard shift
(currently temporarily laid-off due to
seasonal slowdown.)

When the park isn't devastated by Mother Nature,
there can be some fairly pleasant riding in there.
Except for being stuck behind tour buses on the
Drive, in their diesel exhaust.

I sometimes enjoy climbing under the Lions Gate bridge
from the seawall up to the Prospect Point restaurant.
The last stretch at the top is strewn with babyhead rocks,
so I've gotta dismount and walk it. Then re-mount and
emerge into the restaurant parking lot as if I rode it
the whole way, to the amazement of onlookers ;-)

Then the Drive goes downhill toward Beach Ave, and
maintaining the 40 KmH speed limit is easy. Signage
admonishes drivers to not hassle cyclists.

On a stormy day with the tide coming in, the spray
shooting up at Siwash Rock is quite dramatic.

I am quite disgusted with how the Pauline Johnson
memorial above Third Beach has been treated. It's
now pretty much a traffic island.


cheers,
Tom

--
Nothing is safe from me.
Above address is just a spam midden.
I'm really at: tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca
 
I got used to working graveyard shift
(currently temporarily laid-off due to
seasonal slowdown.)
<<<<<
at the post office?
 
"nash" wrote: (clip) You must be an owl.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Whooooo, me?
 
In article <mIFoh.583172$1T2.65635@pd7urf2no>,
"nash" <[email protected]> writes:
> I got used to working graveyard shift
> (currently temporarily laid-off due to
> seasonal slowdown.)
> <<<<<
> at the post office?

No, HBC Logistics, in Richmond.
They're a wonderful organization to work for, BTW.

And the nighttime commute to there is Utopian --
coast down Vancouver's South Hill, cross the bridge,
and some flatland pedalling on quiet roads (mostly
Jacombs Rd) and the Westminster Hwy's parallel bike
path, where herons, owls, rats, bats, raccoons,
coyoots, muskrats and a couple of yappy li'l
ankle-biter dogs reside.

It's especially beautiful when there's a clear, indigo
night sky with a full moon smilin' down on ya.

The morning commute home on No 6 road in the rain
splashed up at ya by passing semis ain't quite as
pleasant. And the grind /up/ the South Hill, on
Argyle St -> (61st([?] the one with the push-button
light across Knight St) -> Inverness -> 45th.

Pay-off/trade-off.

It can get pretty foggy down there in Richmond
in the morning, too. And icy.


cheers,
Tom

--
Nothing is safe from me.
Above address is just a spam midden.
I'm really at: tkeats curlicue vcn dot bc dot ca
 
Tom Keats wrote:
> No, HBC Logistics, in Richmond.

I'm picturing big canoes and spare parts for DHC Beavers.
 
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