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About The daily Astorian. (Astoria, Or.) 1961-current | View Entire Issue (May 6, 2021)
Nature’s Dance Continued from Page 6 As new air is expectant to dream and to yearn, Endings need beginnings and from this polarity I would never want to be apart, And the seasons will always recharge my heart. Up and down, left and right, forwards and backwards, past, present and future, Summer thrives, Autumn falls, Winter wounds, and then Spring heals to suture, Who am I to upset God and Nature’s apple cart? Higher powers in charge do recharge my heart. Walking the Wireless By Jennifer Nightingale, of Astoria A beautiful Bascule bridge stretches out across the bay. Over the century its stood guard on thou- sand diff erent gill-netters Its pilings washed by constant whirlpools and eddies The currents of its estuarial destiny Battered by one hundred years of winter storms. Built for the constant push and tug of tidal demands Walk across the Old Youngs Bay and take a sharp right onto Wireless Road. The noise of traffi c drops off and you can Hear the fresh staccato of the black capped chickadee. Out across the across the verdant fi elds, tiny Spring lambs Gambol towards you because they are curious Cry out and poke their heads through the wire fences. Mud-streaked daff odils spill sunlight in the muck Follow the Wireless Road along the bay So many mysterious landmarks and rust- ing things Make you wonder why A round barn has been fi lling with trac- tors and forgotten things. It’s been there before the bridge was built. You want to know its story but there’s no one there to ask. Refrigerated trailers used to haul fi sh, now they sit in the mud going nowhere. A family of cattle cluster together with a tiny black calf, Mud splattered and curious, she calls out to you. You slop through the mud to touch her soft muzzle. While a cormorant dries his massive wings a top a long-forgotten piling You witness the world waking up as you walk the loop of Wireless Road, In the Springing of the year Jennifer Nightingale Jennifer Nightingale’s poem ‘Walking the Wireless’ is inspired by walking along Wireless Road and Old Youngs Bay Bridge. Autumn Pear Hangs On By Florence Sage, of Astoria Buff eted hard at Smith Point on the bay by westerlies off the ocean and piercing blows rushing from the Arctic through the Gorge, a lone pear hangs from a long thin branch on my front yard tree. Branches brace for the next big storm to snatch from the tree most of its dainty white blooms and reduce the harvest again next Fall to just a few, six last year. This one pear has persisted from September to April Fool’s, a little brown in spots, get- ting soft, determined to make it to Spring to witness this year’s white array of petals spread over the arms of the tree. In punishing gusts the pear swings in wild arcs like the hummingbird feeder hooked nearby that has been known to fl y horizontal and empty its nectar on the ground. The suet holder has taken off to some other yard. Still this last pear refuses to let go. I’ve almost stopped looking, just a glance, afraid for the little round pear, so hopeful, the way you watch the hapless characters in a horror movie through spread fi ngers, no, no, don’t fall. Not yet. I’ll never eat from the pear when it fi nally drops. Maybe bury it by the garden in the fl ower pot holding the ashes of my old dog and let them share their epic stories about being brave and holding on. By Ed Leinenkugel, of Astoria Spring appeared between bands of piercing rain. The “gang of four,” black-tailed deer, grazed by the Alders and Firs; One deer, in particular, groomed Chubby Cheekers, The local rabbit, whose visits are a welcome habit. Another deer, however, apparently felt otherwise, Pawing at the animated rabbit, as if to say “Enough is enough, we don’t wish to play.” Instead, the rabbit circled around the friend- liest doe While she curiously studied nature’s dance below. Random sunbreaks sliced through menacing clouds, Billowing objects tinted with blue, grey, black and charcoal. The darkness appeared darker, and the brightness seemed brighter, And the long grass, freshly wet, waved while it glistened, Inviting nibbles by the four-legged creatures, Kindred spirits enjoying community sustenance. And then the rabbit leaped on the deer in the shadows Ready to lead a charge against the predators who dare To threaten this pastoral neighborhood aff air. A Story About Astoria By Ed Leinenkugel, of Astoria I peered through the wide end of my telescope And studied a fl amboyant past, not quite forgotten, Of working canneries and colorful Victorians Hugging craggy hillsides that slope toward the Columbia. This is a story about Astoria’s fascinating past, About forests and furs, salmon and ferns, Fins and Swedes and tall trees that spread like weeds, About Tribes and tribulations of fi ghting weather, Where relentless rain is always in play. Assume you will get wet, and never forget, Umbrellas are useless and capes often disappoint. Light houses and lightships project angels of light. The terrors of the Pacifi c escalate the fright, Above the lure of graveyards that threaten the night Where shipwrecks litter the bottom of the ocean. Always in perpetual frothy motion The waves at the Mouth crash against the jetties And the Bar confounds with foggy sounds. Misty mysteries slicken the ladders That bob and sway and provide the way To safety and guidance and pirate’s parlance, And point to a destiny that may lie North. From ferries to bridges, and cabins and forts, In one state or the other, to a protected port. A history one could never make up. See Page 14 The Illahee Apartments Downtown Astoria’s Most Respected Apartment Complex Since 1969. 1046 Grand Avenue Astoria, OR 97103 503-325-2280 THURSDAY, MAY 6, 2021 // 7