The warbler and the wasp

Singing its song while flying the skies,
The warbler happily looks at the world below.
Wings flapping morning, afternoon, and evening,
She glides low before landing to find her sustenance.

 

Buzzing a bit erratically above land,

The wasp darts menacingly around the area.

It manages to climb higher only when necessary,

He is seldom welcomed or greeted by anything he sees.

 

But coexist the warbler and the wasp manage to do,

Just like many of God’s creations on this earth of humans.

One can sing happily while the other goes buzzing hazardly,

Because it takes all kinds, sizes, shapes, to make this world spin.

 

And so it goes night after day, all year,

Come sunshine, heat, wind, rain, cold, snow.

As youth gives way to age, business to pleasure,

War to peace, dismay to hope, short stops, and all the way.

 

And then one night the warbler and the wasp meet,

Unplanned and to the detriment of all in that moment.

The warbler was gliding low as the wasp buzzed higher,

And both were startled and unable to avoid each other’s body.

 

There was no song for the warbler,

It was not sustenance to continue onward.

No buzzing for joy from the wounded wasp,

For it had encountered a mass much too large.

 

There was a short fall from the sky,

Straight to the cold and dark waters below.

With sounds on the way down swallowed quickly,

After a splash, some flapping, and sinking of their bodies.

 

As quickly as they met unwillingly,

Their rendezvous was forever all over.

After years of singing and buzzing separately,

It all ended for them in familiar skies and waters.

 

Other warblers and wasps will fly,

Few will ever have such a fateful night.

Their songs and buzzing will fill the skies,

With the grace of God all over this big world.

 

 

Copyright 2025, Charles A. Bruns

Baseball tour

When a friend from California asked me if I would be interested in visiting a bunch of ballparks with him, I hesitated for only a moment. 

“Heck yeah, let’s do it!”

We researched possibilities and agreed that a seven-day trip this month to six Major League Baseball parks and the Hall of Fame organized by Jay Buckley Baseball Tours was the best way to go. Even better, our wives agreed to join us on this adventure.

The trip began with my first official guided tour of my hometown, New York City, before our bus headed to The Bronx for a Sunday night game between the Yankees and arch rival Boston Red Sox at a very loud and packed Yankee Stadium. We followed the game winners to Boston and, after a tour of the historic Massachusetts city, went to ancient but charming Fenway Park to see the home team lose to the Tampa Bay Rays on a foggy night.

We spent the following afternoon in Cooperstown, the upstate New York village that is home to the National  Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum. It was my fifth visit to the site, each one of which has been more interesting than the previous. (I look forward to returning for a sixth visit one day.)

During the next three days we visited Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia for a Phillies-Chicago Cubs afternoon game — the only time all week we saw the home team win — Oriole Park at Camden Yards in Baltimore for an Orioles-Detroit Tigers night game, and Nationals Park in Washington DC for a Nationals-Miami Marlins night game that was interrupted by rain.

We had time in Baltimore to see Babe Ruth’s birthplace, Edgar Allan Poe’s house and one of his gravesites. A non-baseball highlight of the trip for me was visiting the National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington. We also got to eat at the Reading Terminal Market in Philadelphia.

The tour came full circle in New York with a game between the Mets and Tampa Bay Rays in Flushing, Queens. Rain delayed the start of the afternoon game but did not dampen the enthusiasm of fans at Citi Field, which some people on the tour considered the best ballpark we visited during the week. I agree, but admit I may be biased! 

Six times during the week, I stretched during the seventh inning and sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” a song composed in 1908 by a couple of New York songwriters who supposedly weren’t baseball fans and didn’t attend their first game until many, many years later. I’ve been happy to attend over a hundred Major League Baseball games during my lifetime already, and look forward to visiting more ballparks in the future.

To see my pictures from Yankee Stadium, Fenway Park, Citizens Bank Park, Oriole Park at Camden Yards, Nationals Park, Citi Field, and the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum, check out my Instagram posts.