nest full of petals

nest full of petals
overwhelming loneliness
memories of birth

nature laughs at me again

darn nature just keeps
pooping on everything
so it's hard to commune

mourning dove

On the day my uncle finally dies,
I can hear a mourning dove 

on the roof of my home, and 

I cannot bear to do anything 

that makes noise because then 

I might miss 

hearing it sing.

Today's list of things to look up

Today's list of things to look up
includes the difference between

• hydrangeas and lilacs
• herons and cranes

Possibly a red-bellied woodpecker drunk on spring

It stopped me cold
an unexpected bird
smack dab in the middle
of the sidewalk. Orange
hat classy black and
white checked feathers
breathing hard and fast
in gasps neck twisted
to the left long sharp
beak unmoving.  It is
spring and I imagine
this giddy fellow just
learned that this area
may look like air but
the glass around the
parking garage is bad
to discover head first.

For your shopping amusement

I love the way it looks when the birds of prey
perch on the light poles over the highway
dangerous and ready.                        

The seagulls 
perched on the light poles in the grocery store 

parking lot like ugly hats just look ridiculous.

a summer memory - the storm 2013

The trees crushed by the storm
are slowly dying, leaves still
waving in the fitful wind, like 
the scraps of that road-killed
crane I saw on the roadside
waving helplessly as the traffic
passed it by.

from April, with snow

It's hard to go inside today to work when outside all the trees are coated with thick, wet snow, lovely clothing, unfortunately so temporary until the wind picks up or the sun comes out or gravity wins.  Someone was out skiing yesterday or this morning, and the track leads right past the door in to work.  A single bird is warbling cheerfully; all the others are huddled under cover, confused at this unsprung spring.  At least the snow keeps the geese away.

happy to hear the birds

It is 10:47 am, and I am
already exhausted
but still happy
to hear birds
celebrating
the return
of spring.

The Japanese Garden in Winter

.
outside fence geese honk
grey-blue lake and sky shiver
fake swan smiles alone
.

on the morning of the layoff

on the way to work
a heron launches itself
past my windshield

in this morning darkness
I can't tell if it's blue or grey
and it doesn't matter

Today's beauty

Today's beauty is brought to you
by the blue heron
with the impossible wingspan
that took off from my side
of the channel and cleared
the tree trunk blocking the waterway
in only three wing beats.

like origami

My first chiropractor folds me
like origami, and my joints are
not his biggest fans.  He promised
not to turn me into a puddle, and he
is true to his word thus far, but
he says there should never be more
than mild discomfort, and this is a problem
because it's rare for there to be less
than mild discomfort at all times
even when he is not creasing me
into a crane.  Can the crane say to the folder,
"Why did you make me this way?"  Here's
hoping I don't need a thousand visits
to get my wish to come true.  I can't possibly
afford that. 

the birds outside

.
the fridge is making
disturbingly human noises,
groans like a soul in torment 

but the sound
of the birds
outside is louder
.

on a cold winter's night

.
on a cold winter's night

outside my window
a mourning dove quietly
sings itself to sleep
.

abundance

.
This week I have been blessed
by the sight of an undeserved
abundance of cranes,
one perfect summer day,
a couple of good books,
bad news, good news,
and the anticipation of seeing
friends I only see once a year.
.

those worrisome spots out of the corner of your eye

.
tired enough to see
flashes of light and color
then: red-winged blackbird
.

A productive weekend by the numbers

I had a nice holiday weekend.  I really like the sound of that.  I got paid for not being at work.  It's kind of novel, and I plan to enjoy how much laundry I was able to 1) get done and 2) afford to do.  It's the simple things in life.

Also this weekend:

• 0 mosquito bites
• 1 dead computer resurrected but broken in the process
• 1 afternoon in a pool floating around doing absolutely nothing (okay, maybe talking a bit of literature, but that was it)
• 1 ouchie on my elbow from the edge of the pool (which = 0 short sleeved shirts for the next couple of weeks, somehow)
• 1 eagle spotted from the car
• 1 reorganized house plan
• 1 blue screen of death
• 1 baby who did not get sick after being around me
• 1 good friend who just moved to the area to kibbitz with
• 2 new charities I can afford to give to so far
• 2 lovely, sprawling gardens to rest in
• 2 kind families who invited me over for a day even though they don't know me from Adam
• 3 discs of MacGyver season one playing in the background while I worked on my budget and tried to catch up on weeks of dead computer email
• 3 essay ideas I'm drafting
• 4 episodes of Chuck playing in the background while I cleaned and organized things
• 5 more clearance items on ridiculous sale, hopefully fulfilling my shopping quotient for the next couple of years
• 5 hours driving in the car
• 6 ancient pairs of shoes I will give to charity because I can't wear them with my smashed foot ('04)
• 7 pairs of shoes that died years ago (some back in the early 90s) that I hung onto for sentimental reasons despite the holes and my inability to wear them because of my smashed foot 
• 8 books read (all manga)
• X loads of laundry (I should go get that last one out before I forget)
• (approximately) 25 times I almost drove off the road due to gawking at the landscape
• 1 partridge in a pear tree (not really)

Ahhhhh, refreshing.

Sparrow tree

On my way home, sometimes I pass this tree that looks like one of those round sparkly fireworks that explode with long streamers in all directions. 

It looks like a candied apple on a stick with chopped peanuts, although the peanuts are actually adrenalin junkie sparrows who gather there and wait for my car to pass so they can explode into planned random motion in a mad dash to reach some previously agreed on point on the other side of the street that always requires them to fly directly in front of my car. 

It's a good wake-up call if I am feeling tired, let me tell you . . .

Birthdays, owls, kestrels

A friend recently had his 60th birthday at a nature center, which was a great idea because it gave the kids things to do and places to run around even in January.  Through sliding glass doors, I watched chipmunks and squirrels and hyperactive birds feed at the come hither station (complete with heated water hole that never freezes, even when it's 19 below). 

There were three live birds on display.  One was the most sullen, antisocial owl I had ever seen, a wad of irked fluff standing as far from the window as was possible with the tether.  Owl eyes are incredibly creepy, especially when they're radiating unfriendly vibes.  I found this amusing: reason the owl was on display: because it was unable to survive in the wild since it had been raised by humans, preferably really antisocial humans instead of abusive humans.  Maybe it was just in a bad mood.


My favorite was the red kestrel.

American kestrels are
beautiful more beautiful
when not gnawing on
recently living things
but still beautiful
even when they will
never fly (improperly
healed right wing
fracture) still
beautiful beak bloody