Christopher Donahue

When bad things happen in nice weather.

That sums up the largely forgettable  Covid-summer of 2020.  I always hate to see summer end, but this year everything feels different. It is very strange to see August draw to a close while feeling like summer never really arrived. Because of pandemic concerns, we missed our usual summer out-of-state-getaways. No summertime trips to the Green Mountains of Vermont for instance. We did make several day trips to Nantasket beach which were great.

On a brighter note, there were some happy occurrences. One of those was slipping out of the house at 2:30 AM to see some shooting stars. It was mid-August, I couldn’t sleep and the Perseid meteor shower was at its peak.  And, fortuitously, the skies were clear.

I went out  early morning and lay on the grass and looked at the stars. Barefott, in shorts and a t-shirt  I also had a pint of vanilla ice cream to help me bide my time until I saw a meteor.  My rule is always  not to go in until I see a shooting star. It was a lovely evening.  The air was still and warm.   All i needed was patience.

After twenty minute or so I saw one shooting star.  That was it.  The Perseid was not that active this year.  Mission accomplished, it was time to go inside to bed.   And the vanilla ice cream was finished too.

Perfect.

copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

It is hard to beat laying on the lawn on a warm summer night looking for shooting stars.   And that’s what i was doing last night, a little bit after midnight.   I was continuing a long family tradition of watching the Perseid meteor showers.

The air was warm and still. Crickets were chirping nearby. And the stars were out. I lay back in shorts and a t shirt, barefoot and felt like a kid on summer vacation looking at the stars.

Unfortunately, I didn’t see any shooting stars after twenty minutes and went to bed.   This wasn’t all that surprising considering the peak of the meteor shower was still days away. And the clouds creeping in and light pollution in suburban Boston didn’t help.

But it was still a wonderful summertime experience to savor in the moment. I will keep my vigil up the next few days to see if I can view et a good burst of meteor activity.  The weather report says there might be rain so who know if I will see any.

I will have to keep trying. Good thing I have the week off!

It takes patience to see the Perseids!

copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

July 2020 has been remarkable for many reasons: the continuation of working from home due to Covid, a bear visiting my elderly Dad’s back yard, and comet Neowise appearing in the summer night sky.

But tragically, July 2020 is most notable for a freak injury to my beloved cat Felix. Three days ago Felix injured his back wrassling with his brother Quiet Rustle.  Felix has not been able to use his hind legs since then.

My wife and I are heartbroken. Felix is alert this morning. And he is magnificently beautiful as ever. But,  the back legs are still not responding to treatment. There’s not much more I can express now. Gratefully, we are working at home so we can be with him.

I know he’s just a cat but he has brought so much joy to us these past ten years.

I just wish I could hold and have Felix forever.

Copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

I first met Bad Bear years ago. Back then, my wife’s family had an old farmhouse up in Vermont. The house was situated on an old dirt road in the heart of a National Forest. We didn’t realize it at the time, but that particular forest was right in the middle of Bar Bear’s stomping grounds. We began to suspect the wily black bear was around when apple pies that were cooling on the window sill started disappearing. Then other things like the last beer of a six pack or the last piece of pizza would disappear in the night. No one would accept responsibility and my wife suspected me! Eventually, after much discord, we finally realized the culprit could only be that ursine rascal Bad Bear!

Life moves on and situations change. I lost track of Bad Bear after the old farm house was sold. Years went by and then one day I got a call from my elderly dad who lives in western Massachusetts. He told me someone, or something, was tearing down his bird feeders at night.

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Honestly, when I heard the feeders were being ripped down I didn’t initially suspect Bad Bear. But as I drove out to my Dad’s house and I began to wonder. My Dad’s house was only thirty miles form southern Vermont. That’s not a far distance for a black bear to travel. I set up a motion-sensor trail cam aimed at the bird feeders then return out east.  After a week of the camera taken motion activated pictures I went to check the results. Sure enough, there was a black bear tearing down the bird feeder.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get a picture of the bear’s face to know for sure if it was Bad Bear.

We will just have to wait to see if beer and pizza start disappearing!

Copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

night thunder echoes

waking us in still darkness

flashes light the room

copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

I couldn’t sleep last night. It was 3 AM. After some tossing and turning I decided to get up and maybe read a book. Putting on my bathrobe, I relocated to an overstuffed chair in the darkened sun-room.

Moonlight streamed in the windows creating patches of light and shadow on the carpet. My cats meandered about, no doubt wondering why I was up so late. I knew why. Worries about the pandemic, racial injustice, and the killing of George Floyd bubbled up out of my subconscious leaving me completely wide awake.

The moonlight and shadows were too pretty to disturb, so I didn’t turn on the reading light. Instead, I switched on an old-fashioned AM radio we bought at a tag sale. It crackled to life immediately bringing back childhood memories of listening to faraway AM radio stations in the wee hours.

At first, I tuned in a talk radio program from somewhere out in this big, dark, sleeping nation. The caller and host were having a passionate discussion. I never determined the subject because the station kept fading in and out. Sometimes, the signal was loud and clear, other times it was completely lost in static. Maybe a thunderstorm or other atmospheric condition let me hear the call-in show, even for just a few moments.

Eventually, I settled on a stronger signal. Through the quiet ether, across 250 miles of slumbering New England, a station from Montreal was coming in loud and clear. From the proper nouns and geographical names I deduced it was a news report. But because it was in French, and I don’t speak French, I couldn’t understand just what that news report was all about.

It was the best news report I head all week.

Copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

Monday dawns cool and cloudy in suburban Boston. It is 8 AM, and instead of commuting to work, I am sitting in an over-stuffed easy chair, sipping coffee. I’m also watching Quiet Rustle and Felix, our two cats, meander about the room. Sometimes the rascals are on the floor, sometimes leaping from windowsill to windowsill. The two cats make their way around looking for treats or mice or a nice place to nap and I drink my coffee. My wife is also starting her work-at-home day at one of the two computer stations we set up for the crisis, and Quiet Rustle and Felix visit her too.  I do not miss for one instant my commute.

Before starting work, I reflect on how very grateful I am another day has dawned and no one in our immediate circle has been directly affected by the virus. We are very fortunate no one we immediately know is sick or in a financial crisis, at least not yet. And that includes us!

And I also reflect on a strange feeling I have. A cautious, building joy that despite the bad weather and pandemic, summer, at least unofficially, is about to bursts out in full bloom!

Copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

Years ago, I was in business for myself and I worked from home. People would ask me what it was like. Invariably, I would respond with this question:

When was the last time you made Jell-O at work?

And that indeed sums up the situation. The inherent problem of working at home is all the little potential distractions that are lying in wait at the house. Should I do the dishes now or wait until later? Perhaps I should put another coat of polyurethane on the outdoor table. Gee whiz, it’s been a while since I put cat hair out for the birds. Rearrange the furniture? Uh-oh, here come my cats! The list of distractions is endless. And in the age of Covid-19, I am far from alone in facing the challenges of working from home.

It takes a great deal of self-discipline to resist these distractions. And because the distractions are legion, it is inevitable sooner or later my resolve collapses and I am doing some non-essential task. For instance, I put a pot of water on to make coffee and noticed some packs of Jell-O that have been sitting in the pantry for probably years. Sometimes, the best way to deal with procrastination is just to get the tantalizing silly task out of the way and move on. At least that distraction will be gone.

So, I stand in my kitchen, working from home, pondering the cosmic conundrum of the ages: should I make lime or orange flavor Jell-O?

Copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

Another haiku for April, National Poetry month, and the COVID-19 stay at home crisis…

pelting frigid rain

inside again looking out

April tests resolve

copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue

A bit of doggerel for National Poetry Month!!!

we’ve known each other

a long time

my cats

Quiet Rustle and Felix

and me

so I understand

their wondering

steady gaze

when will I get out of the house

and stop interrupting

their daily napping routine

because

I’m working from home

blinking

I gaze back

and the felines

understand

I don’t know either

copyright 2020 Christopher Donahue