an old writer and his words

  • STOICS

    This afternoon the vulture couplesit stoically on the limbsof the long dead tree in the preserve. The rain was torrentialas we watched from the dryconfines of our home, theystood soaked to the featherswith nowhere to hide, knowingthey couldn’t out fly or out climbthe purging clouds, so they setsoaking wet and stared at us. And then…

    Lou Faber

  • CORAGYPS ATRATUS

    They sit on the barren tree staring at what we cannot fathom. They are strangely beautiful creatures and utterly odd looking as well. Their black plumage is entrancing, more so when put on display by extended wings. But inevitably it is their head and neck that draws the eye. Gray against the ebony of their…

    Lou Faber

  • ON THE WING

    From watching them in flightI know that great egrets flywith their hinge neck folded inwhile Sandhill cranes extend theirs. By listening carefully, I knowthe cry of the male limpkin, his lowerthan his female partner, whilethe cry of the hawk only creates fearin those who might be its prey, andthe male Cardinal showsinfinite patience calling outfor…

    Lou Faber

  • JEALOUSY (AGAIN)

    We are jealous of trees,anchored as we areto a grasping earth,able to tear free onlymomentarily or withthe help of machines, for trees can approachthe clouds, swaddleall manner of birds,and, we are certain,know heaven moreintimately than we can. And trees are jealousof birds, able to flywell above their highestbranches, knowingthe true blue of the skyand the…

    Lou Faber

  • CIRCLING

    This morning as the bellsignaled the end of morning zazenthe whistling ducks took uptheir song, circling the wetlandas if inviting me to photograph them. They quickly grew bored waitingand flew off to a placeI do not know, can not imagine. Perhaps they will returnthis afternoon, circlein a duck like pose as I capturethem with the…

    Lou Faber

  • THE NATURAL KEY TO HEAVEN

    The hawk sits on a branchlooking up at the sky, knowingthis is perfection, lifting upchasing a cloud, floating lazily. The butterfly flits from plantto plant, tasting the fruitsthat nature has given her,perfection in a single moment. The cat sleeps on a rockerthe breeze rustling her coat,until waking for dinnerwhich appears at her request. We spend…

    Lou Faber

  • SCHMUTZ

    Looking out the windowI quickly realize that the windowneeds cleaning, and thenthat the red-shouldered hawkin the nearby tree is carefullystaring back at me. I want to know whatthe hawk is thinking, perhapsthat I am possible prey, ormore likely wondering whyI am so foolish as to livein a strangely large box. The hawk, of course, iswondering…

    Lou Faber

  • ABYSMAL

    At the edge of the abyss,teetering on the precipiceyou need not tell us notto jump, need not tell usthe horrid details thatwould befall us if we did,blood and gore ininfinitesimal detail. It is more than enoughthat you point out to usthe sheer height at whichwe stand, the craggedfloor of the canyonawaiting those whoimagine they can…

    Lou Faber

  • CATHARTIDAE

    They circle slowlyeach in its own tierof a near cloudless sky,their wings stillas if frozen, ridingthe breeze, dippingand rising, going nowhere,needing nowhere,riding, riding, lookingdown at the wetland,and circling, untilwith a shift in the breezethe vulture vortexshifts east, and youwatch them shrink,thankful that theyare simply outfor a flight, and notfinding a mealin the reedsand treeswhere allthe…

    Lou Faber

  • ROAMING

    It is a sign of advancing ageor increasing love and passionthat I no longer imaginechucking it all and wanderingoff of some unplanned journey. Next flight out please, Idon’t care where it is going,so long as I have money leftfor food and some basic lodging,no baggage besides my carry on. Of course today that wouldland me…

    Lou Faber