by Joyce Sidman
Bat Wraps Up
Belly full,
he drops down
from the echoing room of night.
One last swift swoop,
one last bug plucked from air
with cupped tail,
scooped neatly to mouth.
As dark grows thin
and body heavy,
he tumbles to tree
and grasps bark,
folds that swirl of cape
tipped with tiny claws
and snags the spot
that smells like home.
Then ... upside flip,
lock-on grip ...
stretch, hang, relax.
Yawn...
dawn.
As night ends, nocturnal creatures must find hidden or camouflaged places to rest to avoid daytime predators. Raccoons climb back to their tree roosts, spiders hide beneath leaves, and snails creep back under logs. Tree bats have spent all night on the wing, hunting for moths, mosquitoes, and other insects. Bats are mammals, and their wings are actually "hands" with elongated webbed fingers. To locate insects as they fly, they use a process called echolocation; their sensitive ears pick up the echoes of their own high-pitched cries, allowing them to "see" objects in the dark. They quickly scoop up insects in their tail membranes and flip them into their mouths. As day approaches, tree bats look for a branch or loose piece of bark to roost under. Hanging upside down by their feet, wings folded, they look like nothing more than a dead leaf swaying in the morning breeze.
Moon's Lament
(an ubi sunt)
Where are the bright dips of fireflies?
Where are the zigzags of moths?
Where are the diving sweeps of the nighthawk
and where its haunting cry?
Where is the thrum of crickets,
the throbbing of frogs?
Where are the great flocks of travelers
whose soft wings whispered to me,
wave upon wave,
beating toward some distant wood?
Where are the stars?
Where are the pale scarves of clouds?
Where are my ghostly shadows,
my pools of molten silver,
poured with such extravagance?
Where has it all gone—
my glory,
my radiance—
now that day has come?
Alas. Another eternity of sunbeams to wait.
The moon does not make its own light; it is like a big mirror, reflecting the sun's rays. When we can see all of the sunbathed part of the moon, we call it "full." A full moon rises at sunset, shines all night, and sets at dawn. But when the moon is waxing or waning, it is often out in the daylight: a pale white shape in the daytime sky. During spring and fall, huge flocks of songbirds migrate at night, using the moon and stars to help them navigate thousands of miles to and from their summer breeding grounds. They fly at night to avoid daytime predators and to take advantage of the cool, calm air. As the day approaches and the moon fades, these flocks settle down to rest and eat.
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Glossary
abdomen In spiders, the hindmost (and usually the largest) part of the body.
antennae (singular, antenna) A pair of flexible stalks on an insect's head that are used for smell or touch.
camouflage Coloring or body parts that help animals and plants blend into the background and hide.
echolocation A method of locating objects by bouncing high-pitched sounds against them, used by such animals as bats and dolphins.
fungi (singular,fungus) A group of spore-making organisms that feed on decaying organic matter.
migrate In birds, to move from one region to another in order to raise young more successfully.
nectar A sugary liquid made by plants to attract pollinators such as moths and bees.
nocturnal Active at night.
omnivorous Eating a wide variety of foods, both plant and animal.
orbit To travel around a larger planet or star in a circular path.
photosynthesis The chemical process by which plants make energy from sunlight.
pollinate To carry pollen from one flower to another, thus fertilizing the plants and allowing seeds to form.
predator An animal that hunts other animals for food.
reproductive Referring to the way an organism makes another one of itself.
spinnerets Organs in a spider's body that make and squirt out silk.
spore A tiny seedlike cell that can grow into a new organism (as in fungi).
stridulation The shrill sound made by certain insects that rub two body parts together.
ubi sunt The name of a style of medieval poetry that laments the loss of heroic, beautiful things.
wane To grow smaller.
wax To grow larger.
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"I've always loved the concept of nighttime," writes the poet Joyce Sidman, "its mystery and dark beauty, but knew little about what actually went on. For us humans—diurnal, sight-oriented creatures that we are—the darkness is alien and a little frightening, especially in the woods (which already have dark, mythic undertones). But there are all sorts of creatures that prefer the night and thrive in the dark. Why? And how? This book is my exploration of those questions."
Joyce Sidman is the award-winning author of many fine books of poetry, including the Caldecott Honor books Song of the Water Boatman and Other Pond Poems and Red Sings from Treetops. She lives with her family in Wayzata, Minnesota. www.joycesidman.com
On the tip of Lake Superior at the Kenspeckle Letterpress in Duluth, Minnesota, where the winters are quite long and offer lots of time to create stunning prints (even in the night!), the printmaker Rick Allen produces original linoleum cuts, curious wood engravings, eccentric broadsheets, and other printed ephemera in collaboration with his wife and creative partner, Marian Lansky, and their assistant, Janelle Miller. He makes his Houghton Mifflin debut with this picture book. www.kenspeckleletterpress.com
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