Dear Blawg,
Let’s try this again.
No, we didn’t officially separate, but.. for all intents and purposes, we practically broke up.
Yet, instead of deleting you, starting over from scratch, obsessing over a name that more or less encompasses where I am in my 20-something-peregrination-stage-of-life, let’s just give it another shot.
(And, yes, that was a half-intended bird reference. ’Peregrine,’ as in the common name ‘Peregrine Falcon,’ comes from ‘peregrination,’ or ‘to wander.’)
So, let’s make this work.
Update on aforementioned goals:
I’m currently sitting in Morning Glory Bakery, this ballin’ little bakery in downtown Bar Harbor, where I’ll be living till October as a Raptor Interpretation Intern for Acadia National Park, a.k.a. the most beeeeaaauuu-tiful place your corneas will ever have the pleasure. My job? Try to convince little childrens to be rock-climbing avian biologists in their future lives by dishing out little bits of knowledge like the parenthetical mentioned above.
In the meantime in between reading how falcons are actually little hellions of flying demon-fire disguised with feathers (Peregrines have been observed punching Bald Eagles in the face, killing them from the impact—how’s that for domestic terrorism?), I’m currently enjoying the best chai of my life to date. Homemade. Props, Morning Glory Bakery. Goal 1 may be complete.
If you happen to stumble across this blawg, expect pictures, fun facts o’ falcons (FFF?), interesting reads, reflections / critiques on the modern conservation and environmentalist movement, and whatever else is happenin’, yo.
Peace and falcons,
Matt
P.S. I didn’t have any non-textual media, so I’m linking a recent Animals Talking in All Caps post that hopefully sparks a little bit o’ joy in ‘yer day. Holla!
