Saturday, July 30, 2022

Raising Anchor

 

I've been stuck in this harbour on an old boat

I'm going nowhere – I'm just staying afloat

I've got to raise anchor

I've got to get out.


I've been stuck in this harbour for far too long

Staying in limbo as though nothing's wrong

I've got to raise anchor

I've got to move on.


You're railing against what you thought that I wrote

And making false claims with an unfounded quote

It's sad that we're ending

On this angry note.


I've let you reside in my mind for too long

Your words ricochet like a tired, old song

I'm now raising anchor

I'm now moving on.


April 2019


(from the book Discoveries In The Dark by Doris Potter)

© Doris Potter

Tuesday, July 19, 2022

My Squirrel Campaign of 2021

This is a story that illustrates what one person can accomplish with persistence.



Last November I discovered that new metal garbage cans placed around the campus of a nearby college (over 25 cans) were regularly trapping squirrels inside.  The hinged door on the domed lid could be pushed inward but not outward.  The squirrel would push the door and get in, the door would close, then when it tried to get out, it had to jump to the top of the can, try to get a toe hold, and pry the door toward it so as to squeeze through.  Not an easy task!



I contacted the college's Director General and several other department heads, etc. to alert them to the issue.  At first I was ignored, then a second email got a response but basically it was to tell me all the reasons why they couldn't change anything.  I started plotting out a strategy.  I took photos of garbage cans that the city had installed on our main street.  These had lids but also openings that allowed squirrels to go in and out.  I sent these photos.  Still, I didn't get much of a response.  Then I wrote back tackling the issue not only from the perspective of the suffering of squirrels, but from a safety perspective (students getting bitten by panicked squirrels), and even from an aesthetic view point (the cans are just plain ugly).  I also started considering a letter-writing campaign, a media campaign and anything else I could think of short of taking a crowbar to the lids.

I was going out every day after sunset (when the squirrels had retired to their nests) and checking each can.  This took 40 minutes.  I kept a record of the squirrels that I found and started photographing them.  Two had bleeding scrapes on their faces which I presume resulted from trying to pry the metal doors open with their noses.  Each time I found one I sent a photograph to the college's authorities.

Note: you can click on any photo to enlarge it.





I also spoke in person to one individual and mentioned another angle that I thought of – these doors required students to physically touch them over and over again and I pointed out the dangers of this during a pandemic.

In any event, I made it clear that I was not going away!  I would check every night all winter long if necessary!

At one point during the frustrating back and forth emails, a manager who had been on leave returned and everything changed!  She thanked me for alerting them to the problem and said that new cans (with no lids) would be purchased and phased in next spring.  It was encouraging to me but the problem still existed in the meantime.  Finally my last photo of a squirrel trapped inside was enough for her to take immediate action and all the doors of the existing cans were removed!  I didn't receive any notice that this was being done and when I went out the next night and saw the cans, it brought me to tears.  This was one week before Christmas and was the best gift that I could receive.  I thanked her profusely and she wished me happy holidays.



Here is a photograph of a happy squirrel!











Saturday, July 16, 2022

Resting Place

 



I watch the horse's serene gaze
as my lens snaps into focus.

The captured image upon review,
reveals my own as well –
reflected in her soft, brown eyes.

And suspended there 
between the fringes
of long, dark lashes ...
I dwell in the depths
of her soulful eyes,
and rest contented.

2020

(from the book Discoveries In The Dark by Doris Potter)

© Doris Potter


Sunday, July 10, 2022

Feeding Chickadees

 



A whirr of wings –

a gentle touch

of delicate feet

on my outstretched hand.


I am filled with wonder

by the intimacy and privilege

these tiny, winged beings

bestow.


2018

(from the book Discoveries In The Dark by Doris Potter)

© Doris Potter

Saturday, July 2, 2022

Leaf Shadows

 



Shadows born from leaf and sun –
Erased by night's swift fall.

Am I the shadow or the leaf?
Do I remain at all?

1994

(from the book Discoveries In The Dark by Doris Potter)

© Doris Potter