09/06/2026
The hummingbirds departed yesterday, the ones who nested on a branch in an evergreen trees that grows near my chair - nd their juvenile offspring, too, all apparently headed for Costa Rica. I don't know the time of departure, just that they were here in the morning and not here when I came home in the evening. My reflections on the miracle of their migration were interrupted by the cheerful noise of a busy chickadee, exploring the cones on that same evergreen, checking for ripeness. It's been so wet lately, I can't imagine they're open yet, even if the seeds are mature, but the chickadee will keep checking back, I know. And when I hang my seed and suet feeders in late October, when I am confident that the bears have tucked themselves in for the winter months, this chickadee will be the one to chide me when they are running low, and the one who will express appreciation by landing on my glove to eat in bleakest February.
And so it goes in September, which, like May-- at least here in the Great Western Catskills of Delaware County, NY -- is a time of urgent and obvious transition in the natural world.
Humans have separated themselves from the natural world to such a degree that we now call it as I just did, differentiating it from artificial world in which human desires reign supreme. We resist nature's cycles and rhythms, insisting on lighting up the dark and standardizing the days, conditioning the air and forcing the flow of water into places that should be dry.
We have outpaced ourselves, though, and I feel it now so urgently, that we have reached the tipping point after which we will not be able to reclaim what we have chosen to trade away in the name of progress.
Hobart is in the midst of celebrating Anna Carroll Heritage Weeks, which will run until September 27. This newsletter is full of information about how you, too, can learn about her life and work -- chief among them being to visit the exhibit of her photography on display at MURAL gallery in Hobart.
When Anna was alive in Hobart, the railroad was just arriving. Cornell Avenue, where The Hobart Exchange is now located, was first named Railroad Avenue and came into existence almost a full century later than Main Street, where The Hobart Exchange was previously located, expressly to provide access to the railroad crossing. The 1880's were another time of great transition in our human world. Hobart was full of enterprising, progressive innovators -- all learning to adapt to the changing times.
My hope is that the programs we have organized in conjunction with this photography exhibit -- which has been so lovingly created by co-curators Carolyn Bennett and Rich Hudson and their team -- will encourage each of us to reflect on the changes between then and now. What type of society do we want going forward, and what role is ours to play in shaping it?
