Day 34: Another Day That Changed My Life

Fog opens and closes like a muslin curtain, revealing barn or child or field, but without a follow spot. Even a lone bird perched on a seesaw of wire tethered to the tower waits for the show to begin.

Now!

Without Flight

The flightless bird
floats, wind-washed 
among leaves, catkins, 
a Copenhagen can.

I pull one from the lake
but leave the other,
nourishment, perhaps,
a small death feeding
life in a new season.

Bird Bath

I could watch robins frolic all day, playing and preening in the water and be happy.

Reveille and Taps

The brown thrasher woke me yesterday and today and serenaded me at dusk yesterday. Perched in the upper branches of a bare tree, it sings early and late, its varied double calls far better than bells or bugles.

The thrasher, whether he or she (they look alike), perches above the range of my camera. Instead of my own snap, I offer this beautiful one from George Grant's photographs stored on PBase (http://www.pbase.com/image/58941011).

There may be better beginnings and endings to the calendar of days, but I'd be hard pressed to name more melodious ones.

For proof, I offer this recording from Cornell University's website, All About Birds. Give it a listen: http://www.birds.cornell.edu/AllAboutBirds/audio/Brown_Thrasher1.html. You won't be sorry.