Opinion

My uncle Norten has been gone for several years now but I came across this story recently that I thought today’s readers might enjoy. It is almost 20 years old.

In a field of milkweed, Rob Perez sits with Mary the Monarch Butterfly. Rob Perez: Mary, thank you for taking the time.

Between the inked pages of any local newspaper and beyond news stories, there are stories of wins and losses, businesses and social doings, deaths and births and entertainment. There are advertisements, legal notices and in our paper, there are prayer requests. Our newspaper like others, are more important to a community than some might suspect.

I was sitting in the backyard, listening to the Royals losing again, taking a break from chores, and waiting for the fireflies. Here came a little green man.

A comeback in populations of the wild turkey is so simple it could begin this year. First of all, we need to end the fall gun season, which allows the taking of too many hens and gobblers. It does indeed affect breeding numbers for the following spring. How could it not? That argument is ridiculous. Right now, we have the lowest number of wild turkeys in the Ozarks since the seventies.

It did not take me long to realize that, as grateful as I am to have this opportunity to write, having a weekly column is not without its own challenges. Some weeks the topics – and subsequent words – flow easily. Other weeks, they trickle. And then, occasionally, the flow is completely damned up. This has been one of those weeks. I still have quite a number of special memories to share, but I’m determined to find accompanying photos before I go with them.

Without your immune system you will die so it is a good idea to learn more about just what it is and how it works. Bull Shoals Library has just the book to help you understand this very complex system on which your health depends. Immune by Philipp Dettmer explains elements of the immune system including defenses like antibodies and inflammation as well as threats like bacteria, allergies, and cancer.

Coffee by my side, I sit on the dock, overlooking North Arm Bay of Lake Minnetonka. It is 6:02 a.m. Everyone who writes about these sorts of times describes it as quiet and peaceful. They deliberately ignore the Hitchcockian quantities of birds hellbent on their morning song. It’s loud out here. A family of geese paddle somewhere slowly, honking.