Any spoken language will change as new inventions, technologies or circumstances change our lives.

I am reading Robert Winkler’s Going Wild: Adventures with Birds in the Suburban Wilderness.

The words suburban wilderness form an oxymoron, a figure of speech which combines contractory or incongruous terms.

I could express my dismay at the need for a term like suburban wilderness, but since humans continue to displace many native plant and animal species, this oxymoron is an efficient and accurate way to communicate how we live.

There’s something about early spring that makes me feel hopeful and really in touch with nature. Sometimes images say it better than I can. [youtube gLElW0LBOTI nolink]

Who/Whom falls into my pesky words category. I spent years reaching for my style manuals whenever confronted with these words. Until I learned a couple of neat tricks.

Yesterday a chickadee flew off with a walnut half in his or her beak. The walnut half was bigger than the chickadee’s head.

This morning a chickadee and a tufted titmouse returned. I’m sure it’s the same chickadee. The chickadee flew off with a walnut half and the titmouse looked around for possible danger. She flew away, came back from a different direction, and flew off with a walnut half.

The birds come to the feeders first, the squirrels follow. Squirrels are less fearful and will sit in front of me eating nut after nut until the supply runs out. I see physical differences in the individuals who visit in the morning and in the afternoon visitors. This morning, two squirrels showed up when I typically see one.

An oxymoron is a figure of speech created when two words with opposite meanings are written or spoken as a phrase, like jumbo shrimp.

I always think of an oxymoron as a literary example of when opposites attract.