Dueling nameservers

The nameserver change has finally propagated throughout the universe of the Internet and you should all have access to this page on the new server. Additionally, you should be seeing HTML pages rather than PHP pages for the individual entries and category archive pages.

In the next few weeks, Burningbird, and all my other web sites will be going through a mergence as well as a re-birth. I’ll be using this opportunity to introduce Movable Type as a content management system for all of my web sites, and do some drastic clean up and re-organization (not to mention seeing what I can do to make sure my pages are accessible and utilize CSS as much as possible). Fun, but a lot of work.

In the meantime, the old PHP archive pages are found in the archives sub-directory so that any links won’t break; but the new archived entries will be in the fires sub-directory.

The folks at Hosting Matters have been nothing less than phenomenal with this move. It’s not easy moving from your own server to a shared environment where you don’t have root access, and I had a lot of questions and concerns. However, the HM support people have been more than patient with me. I have also become quite attached to the Control Panel that Hosting Matters uses — it really is extraordinary.

One problem we ran into is that my old hosting company and the new weren’t exactly in synch with nameserver entries and my old host literally hijacked my domain name back to the old server this morning. I talked to them today to make sure this wouldn’t happen again and Annette from HM also reloaded the nameserver zone files to make sure that the nameserver changes are propagated correctly, once again. At this time several of my domains point to the new server, and several still to the old — including Chris’ domain and weblog, EmptyBottle. However, the doman names should resolve to the correct IP by tomorrow — knock on wood.

As we were fighting the nameserver problem this morning, it reminded me of one of my all time favorite songs, which I thought I would share (2.1M MP3, or 270k Real Audio file).

Come to think of it — this song is a perfect theme song to go with Mike Golby’s skateboarding adventures.


Wrapped in the warmth of glory

I like walking at twilight. One can think without being interrupted by joggers running past, plastic workout pants rustling as they rush by; or couples out for a nature walk, talking about anything but nature, looking anywhere except at a tree. Only the serious come out to the forest at twilight.

muted fall and walls

During one walk last week, deer appeared here and there all along the trail, starting with the two buck wondering in the bushes close to the trail as soon as I crossed the bridge entering the preserve; ending with several deer around a watering hole near the end — mere mists of gray against a night darkened forest.

deer peeking around cornerAt one point I was walking down a steep hill and a doe, startled by my sudden appearance, burst out of a bush right next to the road and started to run. For some reason, I called out to her. And for some unknown reason, she stopped, turned around and looked at me. We stood there a moment looking at each other until she slowly turned away and re-entered the forest.

I did meet a few people during this particular walk. One woman and I both paused at the same time in front of of a hillside, several deer dotting its slopes. We looked at each other and smiled — what more needs be said? At another bend in the trail, when I was watching yet another deer, a guy walked past and said quietly, “Pretty, aren’t they?” I answered, “Yuh.”

Witty repartee in the woods.


I went back to the trail today to check out the fall foliage. The woods were beginning to get colorful last week, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw today. As I drove up old Highway 66 heading to the preserve, I almost wrecked the car when I drove over a hill and the forest unfolded in front of me all at once. Brilliant, brilliant color, everywhere. Scarlet, gold, orange, green, browns, and every nuance of shade in-between.

When I entered the forest, it was like being wrapped in the warmth of glory.

Surrounded by such vivid colors one almost doesn’t feel the chill of the Fall air, but today’s walk was cold, so much colder than last week. Because I was there earlier in the day, not many creatures were about; a few squirrels and birds, but no deer. Nature gives its treats out sparingly: deer or fall colors.

During the walk, I would stop under the large trees when the wind blew, and let the leaves fall down around me as one would drop a curtain around a canary’s cage to stop its song. I stood with upturned face as they fell, faint whispers of sound moving past.

tree by river

Caution was required when walking today as the wet leaves on the paved surface of the trail made it very slippery in spots. I visualized myself falling, breaking something, unable to get out, calling weakly for help.

Well, no, this wouldn’t happen. I don’t break when I fall, I bruise a bit and bounce a bit, usually equal parts of both. And someone in plastic workout clothes would have come along directly; we could only hope they wouldn’t vault over me leaving me crying piteously in their wake.

However, the faux risk did give me the illusion of being “in the wild”.

Leaves by Monet

Today at the watering hole I found a dismal dark muddy green pool of water. How different it appeared from last week, when viewed in shades of night time gray, circled by deer with white around their eyes and flicked on their tails.

A curious thing happened during that twilight walk — I saw one of the deer scratch its neck with its back foot. I know this is a normal thing to do, all creatures scratch themselves. But in all the times I’ve seen deer, I’ve never been near enough to one in such a way that it was comfortable enough to do ordinary things, and I could see them.


If I were a marketer I would say, “Yes ladies and gentlemen. You, too, can have peaceful moments, and be rained on by golden leaves, and look into the gentle brown eyes of a deer only feet away just for the low cost of…?” All this talk of money, and making money, when there’s so much around us and the only price we have to pay is a little of our time.


Next week when I go back the leaves will be mostly gone, and the sun will finally have its way with the ground. The deer will move deeper into the woods to forage. Too soon, the forest and the bushes and the pond will lie under a blanket of white, and all will sleep.


The deer says goodnight