Rubies in the Rain

More rain today.

Sigh.

There are bright spots amidst all this rain. For one, the days of deluge have given me time to stalk ruby-throated hummingbirds. I’ve been trying to capture one on film for a while, but I am never patient enough when the weather is nice. This weekend, though, I staked out the feeder attached to our kitchen window. I was able to sit inside and stay dry until a hummingbird arrived to drink; then I slipped my head and camera out the slider door, which is about five feet from the feeder window, and snapped pictures until he or she flew away. That’s how I managed to score this image:


© Loree Griffin Burns

Rainy mornings are also pretty perfect for drafting new books. So here I go …

 

Ladybugs of Alberta


LADYBUGS OF ALBERTA
by John Acorn
University of Alberta Press, 2007

I had hoped to go on a ladybug expedition over the weekend, to share my new-found ladybug knowledge with my kids, and also to psyche myself up for my first week of drafting the citizen science book. Alas, it rained. And rained and rained and rained. It is raining now, even as I type.

And so I did the next best thing: I read about ladybugs.

John Acorn’s LADYBUGS OF ALBERTA is the only regional ladybug field guide in existence. It covers many of the species we have here in the northeastern United States–even though the Alberta in the title refers to Alberta, Canada–and it is the guide that my friends at The Lost Ladybug Project use in the field. And here’s the thing: it’s a great read! Seriously. I’m not one to actually sit and read a field guide, even in a deluge that has kept me indoors for days. But this particular field guide was a pleasure to read … cover to cover.

John Acorn has a wonderful, humorous writing style, and he is a true ladybugster (his term for ladybug enthusiasts). Who but a ladybugster would actually taste his subjects in order to determine which ones are least palatable?

 

This is not nearly as weird as it sounds … If there were any diseases or parasites I could catch, I wouldn’t do it, believe me.

And yet, do it he does:

 

The procedure is simple: I place the ladybug on my tongue, press them gently against the roof of my mouth, remove them unharmed, and swirl the saliva around my mouth. I then take notes.

Now that is dedication.

Here’s to sunshine and to ladybugs and to dedication … I would like to see all of them here at the Burns house over the coming months!

 

The Viburnum Mysteries, Part 4

It’s been a while since I updated readers on my no-longer-mysterious hummingbird clearwing moth caterpillars. Last you saw, they were one day old and looked like this:


© Loree Griffin Burns

Now they are twelve days old and look like this:


© Loree Griffin Burns

Amazing, eh? It won’t be long before these cats are ready to pupate. I’m not sure exactly how long, actually, so I plan to fill the bottom of the tank with dirt (they pupate underground) as soon as possible. Then I’ll watch and wait, camera at the ready.

For the record, the outdoor eggs I’ve been watching (eggs of the same moth species laid on the same plant, presumably at the same time) finally hatched, but more than a week later than the ones indoors. Can you guess why?

 

2009 Pacific Gyre Expedition


© Gerry Burns

This picture of Charlie Moore and me was taken aboard the oceanographic research vessel Alguita in 2006, when I was researching TRACKING TRASH. Charlie and his crew took me out on the Pacific to show me how they collect seawater samples for plastic analysis. The things I learned that day are never far from my mind. Like the fact that Charlie and his team “find plastic everywhere they look for it” in the world ocean. Like the fact that 80% of the plastic trash in the ocean comes from land sources (i.e. you and me).

If any of this interests you, you should check out the ORV Alguita blog. Charlie and his team recently kicked of the first leg of a three-stage journey to further investigate ocean pollution and, as always, they are working hard to educate the public along the way. The blog has daily updates on the work they are doing and the things they are finding out there on the ocean.

 

Found on the Softball Field!

I am not kidding! Here’s the story …

I coach my daughter’s instructional league softball team. (Maybe you have heard of us? We are the West Boylston Pink Panthers, and we rock!) I was lucky enough to have help from a brave and beautiful parent, Kristi, who only recently moved to town. Kristi and I worked with the Pink Panthers all season—showing the girls what we could remember about fielding and throwing and (heaven help them) hitting—but didn’t find much time for chit-chat. On Saturday, however, at the end-of-the-season Panthers extravaganza, Kristi and I managed to talk about things other than softball. And it turns out she and I have a lot in common besides our panther-daughters: we are both in children’s books. Kristi works for Scholastic Book Fairs!

There followed a raucous conversation about books. Eventually Kristi let slip that she was currently reading the new Suzanne Collins book.

I nearly fainted.

“You mean the new, new Suzanne Collins book? As in the sequel to THE HUNGER GAMES? As in the Advanced Reader copy of CATCHING FIRE? As in, you actually have the ARC in your house right now? What are you doing here? Why are you not home reading? When will you finish? Please, oh please, oh please can I read it after you?”

Kristi now thinks I am a nut. But that is okay, because I am a nut. And this nut now has in her hot little hands an Advanced Reader Copy of CATCHING FIRE!

Must. Go. Read.

 

Ahern Middle School

A big shout out to my new friends at the Ahern Middle School in Massachusetts. It was fun talking to you about writing and science and TRACKING TRASH yesterday. And a hearty thanks to Mrs. Cathy Robbins, sixth grade language arts teacher extraordinaire, who coordinated my visit … and then patiently re-coordinated it when my ladybug research got in the way of our original date. I appreciate your flexibility and patience, Cathy.

The Ahern sixth graders and I got a little carried away with our question and answer session (loved this!), which meant that by the time I got out to the parking lot, my car was surrounded by big, yellow school busses. As I sat and watched those busses load up and ship out, it struck me, for the first time this spring, that the the 2008-2009 school year is on its way out.

You know what this means, right?

Summer!

And I think I’m just about ready. How about you?

 

Darwin


DARWIN
By Alice B. McGinty
Illustrated by Mary Azarian
Houghton Mifflin, 2009

Category: Picture Book Biography

There is nothing quite so satisfying to me as a good picture book biography. I adore a quick glimpse into a life, and I admire the restraint and good sense that are necessary to give this glimpse just the right depth and scope. It is hard, I think, to get it all just right in this format. Goodness knows I speak from experience here; I’ve been working to get one particular picture book biography just right for, oh, about four years now. Not. Easy. Alice McGinty and Mary Azarian, however, know the secret; they got DARWIN just right.

I was tempted to be discouraged, actually, by the fact that this beautiful book is out in the world and my own picture book biography–similar in so many ways–is still sitting on my hard drive. Alas, there was Charles, on the very last page of the book, sharing this wisdom:

Whenever I have found out that I have blundered, or that my work has been imperfect, and when I have been contemptuously criticized, and even when I have been overpraised, so that I have felt mortified, it has been my greatest comfort to say hundreds of times to myself … I have worked as hard and as well as I could, and no man can do more than this.

No woman either.

Happy Monday!

 

The Green Glass Sea


THE GREEN GLASS SEA
By Ellen Klages
Scholastic, 2006

It seems we Burnses are the last people on Earth to read this book, so I probably don’t need to tell you that it is about two eleven-year-old girls living in the top-secret town of Los Alamos, New Mexico—nicknamed the Hill—at the end of World War II. Their parents are involved in an equally secret project, a gadget that will end the war. It is an intense time, but Dewey and Suze are regular girls, dealing with the not-so-secret issues of being young and just a little different.

We loved this book. It spoke to all of us: two ten-year-old boys, one seven-year-old girl, and one thirty-nine-year-old mom. The kids were swept up in the history and are very keen to read more about the Hill and the Manhattan Project. Their reaction to the gadget and the ramifications of its success surprised and worried me. My own reaction mirrored that of Mrs. Gordon, Suze’s mother: “Christ. What have we done?” (This surprised no one in this house.) The book gave us a platform to discuss difficult questions, though, and I am always down with that.

My favorite moment in this novel was a writing moment. Dewey was given the great honor of visiting the secret treehouse of Charlie and Jack, brothers also living on the Hill. The threesome trudged through the flat landsacape of the hill, kicking up dust in every shade of brown and army green, and eventually came to the treehouse:

Dewey climed up the ladder, not as fast as Jack, but without any hesitation. Charlie appeared a few seconds later, the knapsack on his back. He took it off and dropped it with a thump, raising a spray of dust motes that sparkled for a few seconds in the afternoon sun.

Did you catch it? The word sparkled? It was masterful. The landscape until this moment had been so drab that those sparkling dust motes took my breath away. They gave the treehouse a special place in the story, foreshadowed that magnificent green glass sea, and, at the same time, made me worry for Dewey: they sparkled for only a few seconds, after all. My hackles were raised. So many emotional reactions elicited by one perfectly chosen, perfectly placed word.

We’ve added the sequel, WHITE SANDS, RED MENACE to our summer reading list. At the moment it is in the number four spot, behind this, and this, and this. (Hey, don’t mention that last one to Mr. Burns, okay?)

Have a great weekend, friends!

 

What A Girl Wants

What do teen girls want in a book? A discussion of this very question has started over at Chasing Ray, where Colleen Mondor asked a group of women authors to talk about the book that affected them the most as a teen reader. My choice stands out like, forgive me, a truly sore thumb. You can read the entire post here.

Got a favorite book from your own teenhood? Inspired by books already on the list? Check out the discussion inspired by the post and share your thoughts.

Collen plans to add to her What A Girl Wants feature twice a month, exploring with the same panel of women writers various topics relevant to young girls and books. The issues we’ll talk about are important, and my fellow panelists are brilliant and articulate; do stay tuned!

 

Sapsucker Woods


© Ellen Harasimowicz

Cornell University is a citizen science mecca of sorts. It is home not only to The Search for Lost Ladbugs Project, but also the world-reknowned Cornell Lab of Ornithology, whose mission is “to interpret and conserve the earth’s biological diversity through research, education, and citizen science focused on birds.” The Lab coordinates several critical citizen science projects, including FeederWatch, NestWatch, Great Backyard Bird Count, and others.

As if all that weren’t enough enticement, the Lab is nestled in the Sapsucker Woods Bird Sanctuary. (Yes, this place is as lovely as it sounds.) I spent part of yesterday there, interviewing Rick Bonney, who actually coined the phrase ‘citizen science’, and meeting several other folks who work behind the scenes on the citizen science projects I toot about here. (Including, by the way, Tim Gallagher, author of THE GRAIL BIRD. What a treat!)

It was a fabulous end to a fabulous research trip. I left the Lab with important new insights into citizen science, a cool new hat (see photo), and the mounting conviction that it is time, finally, to start writing this book. I have some loose ends to tie up, of course: notes to type, interviews to transcribe, and massive amounts of research to organize and review. But as Ellen and I emerged from the Sapsucker Woods and pointed the car toward home yesterday, my fingers were actually tingling.

(About the picture. I wouldn’t normally just plop a picture like this here on the old blog, but I asked Ellen to grab a picture of me outside the Johnson Center before we left the lab of Ornithology yesterday … and I am just so amazed at how well she captured the exact feelings of the moment. I was happy and relaxed about a day of important work, and wanted to soak up a bit of this special place. I think she totally got the shot. Can you see my fingers tingling?)