22 April 2007

Happy Birthday, Big Brother

April 23, 1930, proud parents announced the birth of their first son, Frederick Arthur Miller.

April 23, 2007, brother Bob proudly wishes his big brother a VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

16 April 2007


This guy/gal was caught just before he/she took off after raiding one of our feeders. He/she is a Gila Woodpecker, and shows up just about every day. This is the only photo I've been able to get so far.

09 April 2007


Rick Watson, at his Life 101 blog - http://dorahighschoolalumni.blogspot.com, wrote about Hummingbirds, so I thought I would show you all a photo of one of our four feeders, with a hungry visitor. We have four of these feeders, and it keeps me busy filling them. Three birds can feed at the same time. Mostly, we have Anna's Hummingbirds; the males have a bright red head when the light hits them, otherwise it looks black.

08 April 2007

Easter 2007

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow.
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living just because He lives.

(from the gospel music of Bill and Gloria Gaither.)


06 April 2007

Dr. Charles J. Kienzle

We have lost our revered family Doctor, Charles J. Kienzle, who died recently. He had been our doctor since we moved to Scottsdale in 1990. He was "Doc" to me and I was "Professor" to him; how he decided on that nickname is beyond me. He was a devout fly fisherman, tying his own flies to be used in waters all over the country. One time while he was sewing me up after some minor surgery, I asked him if he was using a fisherman's knot; he cracked up and had to take a minute to regain his composure.
I've decided to re-dedicate my poem "Deer River Revisited" to him.

Deer River Revisited

It wasn’t easy getting there;
Over fallen trees,
Frog-hopping rock to rock.
The many pockets of his vest
Held his gear.
He had to thread the rod
Through the bushes,
Taking care not to snag his leader.
He knew -
Somehow he just knew -
Where the best places were.
(We wonder still how he knew.)
The line always went to the right spot.
Was there a tell-tale flash of silver
That exposed the prey
Just before his cast?
We knew the concluding act
Long before the trout conceded the battle.
One more to the creel,
And one more,
And one again.
We envied his skill
As we shared the pan-fried trophies
By the campfire.

He’s gone now.

We’re left with the wonder
And the distant taste-sense
And the memory of the pleasure
Of his company.

Dedicated to Dr. Charles J. Kienzle,
may his creel always be full.