PEACHFRONT SPEAKS

Recent entries july 4, 2018 - 2018-07-04 the triangle continues of courtney, boobear, & nyota - 2018-07-03 Cookie so cute telling, "Hello" to sparrows - 2018-07-01 lovebirb in love - 2018-06-30 wren with fluffffff - 2018-06-24 Read my new book, The 10 Best Things You Can Do For Your Bird at Amazon or at many other fine distributors like Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and more. By public demand, and after a delay of an embarrassing number of years, I've finally put my notorious essay, Ender and Hitler: Sympathy for the Superman, free on the fabulous internets. A bibliography of my published books and stories. Here's a simple card-counting FAQ to get you up to speed on the basics. Here's the true story of the notorious DD' blackjack team, told for the first time on the fabulous internets. No other team went from a starting investor's bankroll of zero to winning millions of dollars. A Sadean take on Asimov's classic Three Laws of Robotics can be found in Roger Williams' NOW REVIEWED ON SLASHDOT!!! The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect. Adult readers only please -- explicit sex and violence. For updates on the "Dead Tree Project" and other topics, you may visit the official fan site, Passages in the Void.. My Bird Lists -- My Louisiana State Life List, My Yard List and, tah dah, My World Life List. HEY! What happened to the Peachfront Conure Files? The world's only OFFICIAL Peachfront Conure site now features free peachfront conure coverage, including a magazine length Intro to Conures previously published in American Cage-Bird Magazine, now free on the web. I offer the best free Peachfront Conure information on the internet. If you have great Peachfront Conure info, stories, or photos to share, contact me so I can publicize your pet, your breeding success, your great photograph, etc. on my site. Thanks.

why did the turtle cross the road? to get to the other side 2008-06-05 - 5:45 p.m. I think sometimes about an essay by David James Duncan, "Birdwatching as a Blood Sport." In it he tells how, walking on a beach, he approached a large western-type grebe -- he knew the species, I'm the one who has forgotten. In any event, the grebe sat waiting, patiently, with a glow in its eye, scaring him with its almost sinister patience, as if it were lying in wait. And so then he walked away, forgetting or perhaps not knowing yet that this species cannot walk and it waited for him to put it back in the water. Later in the essay is a terrifying scene where he risks life and limb on a busy highway to save a screech owl. This week, perhaps, I've thought of this essay more than usual, because of the turtle. One day, D. and I drove down a rural highway, and there was a woman, with a child, and a rolling suitcase, walking determinedly beside the road. It looked like drama, and if there's one thing we don't need in this life, it's more drama. I may have even thought, and it isn't to my credit, "Poor white trash." We both assumed, as one does, that there was a man in the picture, and as man is the most dangerous of animals, we didn't want to be involved. The next day, or the day after, on the same highway, we saw a red-eared turtle crossing the road. D. pulled over without discussion and hurried to pick up the turtle and put it out of harm's way. And if we had it to do over a hundred times, we'd make the same choice every time. Once, in May 1982, I was driving in the mountains in Arkansas, and there were dozens, then hundreds, of box turtles crossing the road. There were too many to stop, and, although I swerved as much as I dared on the curving roads semi-busy with the spring tourists, I hit and ran over three of them. I cringed every time I heard that crunch. I wonder if there are still so many migrating turtles, in Arkansas or anywhere. If there's a moral to this story, I don't know what it is. Life is a blood sport. back - next All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2002-2017 by Elaine Radford