Running While Set on Fire

A French firefighter named Jonathan Vero recently earned a Guinness World Record for running a distance of 893 feet after being set on fire. Vero was set ablaze on a running track while wearing a protective suit to break the record for the longest distance full-body burn run without oxygen. He completed the first 328 feet in a time of 17 seconds, which also broke a second record for the fastest full body burn 100-meter sprint without oxygen.

That’s pretty weird stuff, but I’m not totally impressed. I’m convinced a couple of my high school buddies might have broken both of these records many years ago after catching themselves on fire while warming too near the bonfire during one of our beer kegger parties in the mountains. And, frankly, they were more impressive because they didn’t have on fancy suits, and they didn’t spill a drop of beer in the process!

—Mitchell Hegman

Six Words

Today, I am sharing a concise six-word poem written by A.R. Ammons.  This is the stuff that makes me love contemporary poetry:

 

Their Sex Life

One failure on

Top of another

How Smart is a Bird Call App?

Long ago, we established that I am, at best, a halfwit in matters of identifying birds by their calls. Perhaps you recollect my blog from a few weeks ago when both I and my brother-in-law thought a backhoe starting its engine in the distance was a bird calling in a mate.

While sitting in my hot tub the other day, a realization suddenly struck me. For several years now, I have not heard a very distinctive warbling that regularly emanates from the juniper and pines on the hill below my house. More disturbingly, I have no idea what bird sings the song.

I wondered, 'Has the bird vanished from my landscape?'

Thinking I might be able to identify the bird with a bird call app, I navigated to the Play Store on my smartphone and downloaded a highly-rated bird call identification app. Once I installed it, I launched the app and then whistled the song I used to hear into my phone.

The app immediately responded with this: “That is likely a human.”

Cursing, I immediately uninstalled the app and grabbed myself a beer.

—Mitchell Hegman

Sunset 6-25-2023

Two nights ago, we experienced another gorgeous sunset. Though Desiree and I were originally drawn outside to admire our yucca plants, the sunset held us there. While the colors at the front of the house remained muted and the scene pastoral, a five-alarm sunset developed over the lake outside our back door."

Looking West

Yucca in Bloom

Final Orange Splash in Back

—Mitchell Hegman

The Gathering

Bitterroot plants are not obsessed with water. These hardy perennials have adapted to thrive in arid environments, displaying unique growth cycles and habits. Native to North America, bitterroot (Lewisia rediviva) is a low-growing and cautious plant that manages to flourish in challenging conditions.

In early spring, as temperatures rise, bitterroot plants emerge and form rosettes of fleshy, succulent leaves. These leaves conserve water with their waxy cuticles. Nutrients are stored in the underground caudex (stem) to prepare for blooming.

In June, all around my prairie home, stunning blossoms appear as the spring rosettes slowly shrink away, showcasing vibrant hues of pink, white, or purple. After blooming, bitterroot reenters dormancy. Leaves wither, and above-ground growth diminishes. Roots delve deep into the soil, accessing moisture and nutrients for the next spring. While withdrawing back into the earth, the bitterroot sheds dried seed pods and disperses tiny clusters of black seeds.

Yesterday, I hunted down and gathered about two dozen seed pods. I am hoping to use the seeds to establish a conspicuous patch of bitterroot near my house.

Bitterroot Seed Pods

Bitterroot Cluster in Bloom

Bitterroot Pair in Bloom

—Mitchell Hegman

Aimless Ambition

I singled out an ant

and watched it go about its ant duties…

too scurry this way and that

and this, this, this,

and that, this, that.

Either I or the ant has lost our way.

Of this and that, I am certain.

—Mitchell Hegman

Bigfoot and Elvis

Just as I headed for the door for a quick turn-around trip to the lake, I glanced at my smartphone on the kitchen counter. “Naw,” I thought, 'I don't need that. I am only going to be gone for five minutes.”

I took a couple more steps toward the door, stopped, and considered. No, I didn't need my phone. But my phone is now my camera. I thought about what I always tell Desiree when she wants to leave her phone behind when we embark on a quick errand: “What if we run into a UFO out there, and both Elvis and Bigfoot step outside the craft asking us to take their picture together?”

I turned around and grabbed my phone. Regrettably, I captured no photograph of Bigfoot and Elvis. I either arrived at the lake five minutes too early or missed them by the same margin.

—Mitchell Hegman