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YOU AGAIN?
On the path around the pondthe male of a pair of Sandhill Cranesstares closely at us wondering, perhaps,which if any of us actually belongs here.We more than return his stare, fumblingfor our cameras that claim they are phones,wanting to capture this moment.The crane proudly approaches, getsinches from the arm-extended phone. Is hetrying to see what…
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I QUIT
Nature joined me uninvited this morningas I sat on the lanai overlooking whatonce was a bird filled wetland, now grownover with Carolina willow andthe too frequent Brazilian Cherry.“The birds have given up on you,”I thought I heard nature say, “I supposeyou miss them?”. “Terribly,” I said“for they were a part of me that hasnow withered…
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CLICK
It was three weeks ago when Ilast saw the Great Egret foragingfor twigs and sticks to carry backto the nest it was building, it beinga neutral pronoun since Egretsand many birds do not abide bystrange human gender drivendivisions of labor and child rearing.I so wanted to sneak out backwith my camera and catchthe moment when…
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BREATHING
Somewhere at this very momenta baby takes its first breath,a man dies unexpectedly,a fledgeling bird takes flight,a star is bornor enters its death throes,one of the last of a species is gone,a battle is fought in a senseless war,a waterway is fouled with pollution,smog grips a city,an old man clings to memories.I am still aliveand…
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AT THE APEX
He reminds us that we are alsoapex predators just like the raptors,bald eagle, hawks, osprey, and whiletheir numbers have once again grownfrom the edge of extinction, we havemoved ever closer to it with our chemicalsolution to problems, our greed,our demand for what we desire,our environment be damned.He says the birds would speak to usbut they…
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DREAMING OF FLIGHT
As a child I, like so many others,imagined we might have wingsand could take flight at will, unrestrainedby gravity or parents, a freedomboth denied us: for our own goodthe parents said, silently by gravity.We would look at the sky, the clouds,the birds cavorting without seeming careas we were called in for homework,piano practice, household chores.Now…
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KOYO’S GARUDA BIRD
When you sit on the cushionthere is only you, there is onlythe cushion, nothing more.When you rise from the cushionwhat becomes of you?Do you change, are youin some way different?But if there is no youif there is only onethen the cushiondoes not matter any longer. A reflection on Case 44 of the Book of Equanimity…
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A STRANGE LIFE
The sun rose this morning,as if the day was not in anyway out of the ordinary, daysgone far too large to countfor those with finite capacity.The birds begin, their harmoniouscacophony, though they thinkit is their lauds, matins of reflectionburned off with the dew underthe gentle glare of a late spring sun.They watch us begin to…
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NIGHT VISITOR
Across Bedford Avenuein the fourth floor windowthe antique bird printis bathed in the lightof a Chinese ginger jar lamp.Her shadow dancesacross the wall, armswrapped tightly around herselfin the sway of Terpsichoresinging her melancholy song.I hear onlythe cacophony of the drunkon the cornerbraying to the moonand the rumbleof the lorryon Tottenham Court Road. First Published in…
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BLEEDING
A violinist canlook at an Amatior a Guarnieriand hear a concerto. A birder hearsthe call of the songbirdand can describethe beauty of her plumage. A skilled photographerlooks through the viewfinderand tells a complete storywith one press of the shutter button. But it is the poetalone, staring at a blank page,who spills onto it joy and…
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an old writer and his words 