I thought I would take a little pause in my Melaque grading to discuss a topic that comes up now and then on almost every blog.
If you notice, just to the right of this post, I have a new (temporary) counter. I moved the icon from its cozy little home at the bottom of my lists. The other day, I noticed that I was about to have hit number 10,000 on my site since I started counting in April.
The hit that tripped the counter could not have been more emblematic of blog surfers if I had picked it myself. Someone in California googled "lanyard for my mom" and up popped my post on Billy Collins's poem "The Lanyard." Apparently, my blog did not contain what the googlenaut sought because the surface of my little pond was left unexplored.
I find that encounter interesting because this is not a poetry site, but I get a lot of visitors seeking poetry. And, like all other bloggers, I lament the fact that the visitor came, but I did not have an opportunity to share cocoa and cookies, let alone a fine meal with conversation.
My friends are a bit amused (some bemused) at my sudden fascination with blogging. I like the community. I simply like the tactile sense of writing. But most of all I like making contact with new people.
In the last two days, I have had hits from Britain, Italy, Australia, Italy, Russia, and Germany (in addition to the majority of hits from Canada, the States, and Mexico). I just wish that each visitor would leave a small note to let us know a little bit about their own stories.
In truth, though, I know that I will sit here watching the numbers turn (though I will now revert to my more subtle meter nestled like a worm in an acorn), waiting silently for messages that will not arrive. Whoever thought that I would end up as an electronic Emily Dickinson -- without the poet talent?
