Essays

This week, Cheryl Bartz investigates a mystery animal sighting — with inspiration from Sgt. Joe Friday. Listen for the full experience, or read on for more details.

In spring, I like to get out every day to see which plants have emerged. If you blink, you can miss the whole season.

“You’d be bored with that in ten minutes.” Like a good daughter, Sara put it back on the shelf. Like a bad mother, I put it out of my mind.

Fragile and fraught as it is, I don’t want to lose this connection. I wouldn’t say we’re close, but there have been moments

Mourning dove. Squirrel. Goldenrod. What do they have in common? Somewhere in Michigan, someone hates them.

A friend next door retired recently so, I told everyone, “Bring a dish to pass and some advice for Bill.”

On a sunny spring day when the thermometer tops 50, some of us get the urge to go out and clean up the yard. Fifty is kind of a magical number in the natural world, too.

“There oughta be a law,” I say, “businesses that go out of business ought to take their signs down.”

The first bird song I remember ever hearing was a robin. I was crawling around under the dining room table, as kids do, when I heard a new sound outside. I scrambled to the window to see what it was–a dark bird with a red stomach. A robin, my mother said.

Each of us has some kind of specialized knowledge, which can become a lens through which we view the world. So, I’m wondering, Dear Listener, what do YOU notice?