No Joy in Mudville

By February 1, 2019 Articles

Were you required to memorize poetry in junior high school? I was. Paul Revere’s Ride, Charge of the Light Brigade, and Casey at the Bat were some of the ones I remember. It’s Casey’s tale ( that consumes me now. The suspense, the anticipation, the faith the crowd placed in Casey’s confidence. The last stanza goes:

“Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.”

The past three years have been the best of times . . . and now the worst of times. I believe our quail capital is lower now than it was following the historic drought of 2011-12. Amazingly depressing that the “quail ice” has melted so quickly. Can our quails pull a rabbit out of their reproductive hats this Spring? Conditions are ripe for a nice rebound if we have enough breeding capital to take advantage of the filaree bonanza and the broomweed canopy which should explode next summer. My fingers are crossed so hard I’m becoming double-jointed! We can only hope.

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