Growing Old Together. Robert W. Nero

of the “Revelations” in this book, wrote: “Bob, Bob, Bob…your ‘Revelations of Ruth’ are a gem! I cried, and more importantly, I laughed so hard my stomach ached….”

      Norah Lane, reflecting on poems in The Mulch Pile, wrote from Toronto in 1995 (she was then 87), “Ruth, it is your presence and your closeness to Nature that brings out the poetry of love in Bob.” And, “I feel, Ruth, that you are so much a part of Bob’s poetry your spirit speaks in areas that are so beautiful.”

      When environmental lawyer, Alan W. Scarth, Q.C., of Winnipeg, once spoke kindly about some of my poems, I replied that I was afraid they were all rather simple in nature, hardly warranting his praise. To which he stated: “On the contrary, simplicity is the most profound thing we can experience.” Later, on March 17, 1994, Scarth sent me these memorable words: “Delighting in your Mulch Pile [my second book] and its shafts of sunlight, and breaths of northern air as we head down into Los Angeles, houses and cars blurred through the smog. If Gaia tolerates us another century or two, your poems will have the permanence of the Roman verses, glimpses into a past world where life still had some earth and wild to hold to, and survival did not seem to be an issue.”

      In some respects, my most cherished comment came from the late Dr. John T. Emlen, Jr., noted zoology professor, ornithologist and naturalist. “Doc” Emlen was the kind soul who guided me through graduate school. In a letter of October 12, 1989, Doc wrote: “Thanks for your letter, the article on Athabascan ventifacts and the poem on the shrew’s tracks in the new snow. I’m no poet, but I do like good, straight-forward poems—and I like yours—so I guess that makes you a good poet.”

      A few of these poems have appeared in print in Nature Society News, the monthly Purple Martin paper out of Griggsville, Illinois; The Badger Birder, Wisconsin newsletter and their journal, The Passenger Pigeon; Trail  Landscape and Pickering Naturalist, Ontario; Bird Watcher’s Digest; Blue Jay, Saskatchewan Nature Society; Manitoba Archaeological Newsletter, Manitoba Naturalists Society Bulletin and in the Manitoba Wildlife Rehabilitation Organization’s newsletter The Wing Beat. I am grateful to the several editors of those publications for their interest.

      For getting me outside on a daily basis in all seasons, whether just driving down a road or hiking through snowdrifts, exploring willow thickets and distant woods, thus helping to keep me alert and responsive, I owe thanks to Buster, actually Buster II, our friendly Brittany spaniel. We’re together in several earlier poems and a few in this collection.

      Recently, out looking for discarded beer containers in muddy ditches and roadsides, while Buster ran about in May-time exuberance, I thought that publication of a poem on this topic would be further justification for this curious activity—and here we have two pieces on this topic.

      Elizabeth A. Struthers deserves considerable credit for helping me get the manuscript typed and assembled—thanks, Betty. For welcome assistance in transmitting the manuscript to the publisher, and additional communication, I am indebted to my good friend and fellow owl fan James R. Duncan—thanks so much, Jim!

Publisher’s Note