Weeknotes: April 27–May 2, 2026
Monday, April 27
The New Pornographers are playing El Club in Detroit. I last saw them in 2014 on the Brill Bruisers tour and I'm surprised how much better they sound tonight in a smaller venue with a retooled lineup. Dan Bejar is no longer with them, so I don't expect to hear any of his songs. As usual, the excellent Kathryn Calder handles Neko Case's parts on stage, along with all her own vocal contributions and the lion's share of the keyboard parts. Joining her is newcomer Jess Nolan who sings lead on a couple songs, plays additional keys, and melodica. The other new touring member is drummer Joshua Wells from Destroyer and Black Mountain.
I was a big fan of original drummer Kurt Dahle and missed the entire Joe Seiders era — probably for the best, given his disgraced exit. The New Pornographers are a rhythmic powerhouse with technically challenging parts, not just for the drums, but vocally and instrumentally. Wells is a perfect fit — a hard-hitter with a deep rock vocabulary and infectious energy that propels the whole band. Nolan, for her part, steals the show a couple times and compliments Calder's voice well. Carl Newman's songwriting is the backbone. Packed in a sweaty room a few feet from the stage, I feel the old magic as they rip through "Use It," "The Laws Have Changed," and "The Bleeding Heart Show."
Tuesday, April 28
A stiff wind rakes the maple, already in full green leaf, while a few yards away a tree of heaven is only just sending out its first waxy red buds. The Japanese painted fern transplanted from my parents' yard last year is already starting to multiply. In the laundry room, newborn morning glories are living out their first couple weeks in troughs before I move them out to their summer home along the back fence. Everything is more or less on schedule.
Beyond this, the day is bust. Nothing dismal, just a sequence of unsatisfying work, chores, and disappointing meals, all adding up to blah. I buy a carton of ice cream in case a win doesn't find me and I need to manufacture one. An insurance treat.
Wednesday, April 29
There are two robin's nests on the porch. For a while I thought both had been abandoned, but have since seen a bird in each, though never at the same time, giving me the impression of a single mom frantically working two jobs.
At my brother's request, the family gathers in Brighton to celebrate Jamie's Birthday Observed. There is Jet's Pizza, Mom's cherry pie, and everyone's dogs getting in and out of trouble. I give him a copy of Kenn Kaufman's classic memoir, Kingbird Highway, in anticipation of our birding trip to Ontario this weekend. Over a smoke on the deck he identifies a broad-winged hawk, which I mishear as a Broadway hawk. I imagine its flamboyant little outfit: top hat, spats, a cane.
Thursday, April 30
Only 30 pages left of Modern Nature. It's been slow going, but I've enjoyed it so much. Last night I got swept up in Derek Jarman's illness and my heart broke for him because I know the ending. HIV positive since 1986, he lasted eight more years before AIDS finally claimed him. These diaries have caused me to think about the intersection of art, legacy, and quality of living. Jarman was about the age I am now (49) at the time of writing, and faced what was then considered a death sentence. As his friends around him succumbed to the virus, he remained prolific, painting, writing, making films, and giving candid interviews, all while tending his sandy garden by the sea in Dungeness. There is so much in this book that have given me pause. I have go back to England and visit Prospect Cottage.
Islay and I drive back out to Brighton so she can stay with my parents while we're in Ontario. When I arrive, the back of their Ford Escape is open, stocked with an array of potted flowers ready for delivery. At 81 years old my mom is still giving May Day baskets to her friends. Back home, I take a walk around the block and find a prickly pear cactus thriving in the tall grass next to the neighborhood dive bar.
Friday, May 1–Saturday, May 2
Jamie's Birthday Observed / 24 Hours in Southern Ontario
Site 186: spacious, creekside, muddy. Blackbirds, swallows, a yellow warbler darting among the reeds. Eagles soaring overhead. Through binoculars, I watch a cormorant toss a large wriggling fish down its neck. Camp looks forlorn after an evening of rain — a brown moat surrounds the slushy firepit. I arrange firewood and tinder inside a cardboard box suspended on log pylons to keep it dry until coals are established.
Mats of white trillium greet hikers at the trailhead which soon transitions into a long stretch of boardwalk, then back to trail. Embattled old beech trunks collared by may apple bear arborglyphs from recent decades — carved initials, dates, hearts. "How many of them are still together?" Jamie wonders. Just before the loop concludes, Jenny finds red trillium and a small patch of wild daffodil.
A shabby parking lot encased in tall waving phragmites leads to a raised path between two dykes. Within sight are at least three families of geese with young goslings, all protesting our arrival. The trail is 50% goose poop. A light rain falls.
A lovely subsection of Hillman Marsh curated by a local funeral home. Just off the trail is a bench under an arbor with a black rotary telephone mounted to a wooden post. It's a wind phone. I hold the receiver to my ear and try to think of someone to speak to, but my mind goes blank. Further on, beyond a wall of memorial pines, is a flood plain teeming with shorebirds. Sandpipers, yellowlegs, gulls, terns, mallards, blue-winged teal, geese, killdeer. A cold wind and more rain.
I've visited mainland Canada's southernmost point four or five times. It's a birding Mecca. No lifers for me today, but it's Jamie and Jenny's first time here during migration. The trails are overrun with birders of all levels carrying expensive optics. We ride the trolley down to the tip of the sand spit. Lake Erie is calm — a raft of mergansers and in the distance a large freighter. More eagles overhead. Back on the inland trails, we enjoy decent, though not exceptional birding: waterthrush, hermit thrush, orioles, indigo bunting, kinglets, Carolina wren.
Bonus Round:
The purple aurora-like glow of LED lights from the massive greenhouses
The Elsinore Brewery-like vibes of Leamington's old Heinz plant
The exceptional tacos at Cancunsita
The overwhelming friendliness of every clerk and server we encounter