h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

The night temperatures are staying above 50F and so every living thing here seems to think it really is spring.

The bauhinia at the park nearby is blooming up a storm and you can smell the sweet tropical fruit/lilac fragrance from 100 feet away. There's a bird in it singing a song so close to the song of the Minke whale that I posted here earlier that I spend a good while tracking it down to make sure it was created by something alive. (there are some sound stages close by, as Los Angeles is where 'the biz' is, and I'd been fooled with sound before)

I spotted the mockingbirds furtively scouting sneakily about my vines a few days ago and nipped that idea in the bud by giving them a long overdue pruning back (the vines, that is). The male is now singing in the neighbor's avocado. What's cool is that he has learned some of the ladderback woodpecker's song and added it to his own this year.

Our day temperatures are staying over 45F when it's sunny. Primroses have bloomed in our flowerbeds and the daffodils are in bud.

A songthrush on the roof outside my study window has been scaring the rooks away all winter, by running at them full tilt whenever they're presumptious enough to land there; so now they're all steering clear of the tiny harridan. The sparrows are filling the lanes with their chirruping from deep in the hedgerows, which are sprouting new leaves here and there.

Some frogs have mated early, leaving their spawn in Gothly's parents' pond. When they're this small, the curled-up tadpoles look like a mass of commas with which some obsessive punctuator has been correcting the duckweed.

Spring. Such a sense of optimism in the air. (Tinged with rime.)

Did you find out what kind of bird it was that was making the Minke noises?

No, I'm not very good at keying out birds, so I don't try. It's finch-sized, and unremarkably colored. There's no way you'd guess such a wee thing would make such a loud noise, but I'm pretty sure I've got the right critter.

It just occured to me, herein lies a possibly interesting lesson plan. Ask them to write a picaresque or a seasonal account of some kind. If they can't think of anything from memory, have them unpack and detail some haiku.

I might just do that. I've got this one student who faithfully turns up to every lesson and tries really hard. Unfortunately, his skills don't get much opportunity to develop, because the other students are totally random about turning up. I've been going out of my way to create lessons that don't require any prior knowledge and which contain concepts that can be used in a wide range of situations; but lately I've been contemplating planning lessons with just this one guy in mind, and if the others don't like it, tough.