Thursday, September 22, 2005, 7:03 pm
The little tippler, leaning
SPRINGFIELD, MO. — 5:23 p.m. 90 degrees, sunny. A lone dove rests high on a dead limb, and another darts through the sky. One cardinal chips softly, and a goldfinch calls in flight. A Red-bellied Woodpecker swoops up and down, up and down, chuckling. Turkeys browse in the tall grass along the creek. The equator faces squarely the sun.
5:24 p.m. The world will begin to tip away from the sun. Slowly, darkness and cold will grip the hemisphere, though it’s hard to believe that now. The dove remains in the snag, stretching and preening, as our little planet hurtles madly through space.
David J. Ringer
