December 1, 2022
From my Pandemic Garden…
A Goldfinch Ponders…
8″ x 12″ Giclée Print – $32.99 each
March 15, 2021
“Even the woodpecker owes his success to the fact that he uses his head and keeps pecking away until he finishes the job he starts.” – Coleman Cox
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March 2, 2020
Winged Bird Winged bird in flight, Flying so freely through the night, Upon the winds of love And hope, Fearful perhaps of what might. Like all winged creatures You soar, High above earth's stable ground, Touching briefly, If only to light, Upon the soul of love's creation. Your flight is your fancy, Your freedom from truth, You use your wings wisely, To escape attainment. Winged bird in flight, Flying so freely through the night, Upon the winds of love And hope, Fearful perhaps of what might. To stop your flight, And be conceivably grounded, Would it quench, Your freedom you fear; Or would you gain, With your wings some feet, To plant firmly on earth, Among the seeds of love, And grow ever more joyous, Amid what love reaps.
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January 21, 2020
In 2015, while working on my undergraduate degree in Digital Communications and Creative Writing I did an Independent Study in Nature Writing. During the class, I had substantial reading list (some of the books are listed below) that I worked my way through. However, I found that the most valuable and instructive time that I spent, while working on my independent study, was actually done outdoors in nature observing it in the area of the Merrimack River estuary lands where I lived in Amesbury, Massachusetts.
At the time I rented an apartment in a historical shipwright’s house on Pleasant Valley Road. All around the house there were woods and wetlands that are protected by the Massachusetts Division of Conservation Services. I needed only to sit at my desk to and look out the window in front of it to see bald eagles and blue herons fly across or even through the front yard.
One day returning from my frequent walks along the river I watched a sharp-shinned hawk dive from a sugar maple tree in the front yard into a yew shrub in front of my living room window (where my desk sat) and lunch on a sparrow.
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January 2, 2017
There is a small Hawk up in the Shagbark Hickory tree just outside my desk window. I was looking out the window gazing at the River, as I am often wont to do, when it flew onto the lowest branch a few minutes ago and settled in. The sun is behind it and as such, it is hard to make out its coloring and markings, but I knew it was a hawk by the shape of its head when I watched it land.
What I did not see, when it landed, was that it landed with a small bird in its talon. Ah… Breakfast.
Hawk has been busy, sitting there on the tree limb shredding the Small Bird, sending its delicate little feathers to flutter and tumble-down to the ground below the tree.
Given the relatively small size of the hawk, I am thinking it is the same Sharp-shinned Hawk that I have seen in the yard in the past. A Sharp-shinned Hawk is America’s smallest hawk. It has a long tail, long legs and short wings. They are very agile fliers who easily zip in between trees to grab they prey.
One day a few months ago, I looked out the window in front of my desk, to see a hawk sitting in the yew bush right in front of the window. It was quite the surprise for the two of us, actually as I looked out saw the hawk staring in the window at me. “Oh,” I exclaimed, as the hawk ducked back down in the bush and then made its exit through the front of the bush.
A Crow landed in the Maple tree to the left of the Hickory that Hawk sits busily eating breakfast. Now Crow is shrieking at Hawk, demanding that Hawk leave it some dregs of Small Bird. However, Hawk has been up there so long with Small Bird I can’t imagine that he has not stripped the bones clean. There seem to be no more feathers fluttering to the ground. There is just Hawk and his breakfast. He is fastidious in making sure he does not leave a morsel behind.
Finished now, he hops to another branch and sits facing the sun. Pleased as he is to have had a healthy breakfast. Perhaps not as hearty as he liked or needed, his wings lifted and he flew off in the direction of the bird feeder on the other side of the yard. The cycle of nature and life itself, never ceases to amaze me.
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June 2, 2016
“I pray to the birds because they remind me of what I love rather than what I fear. And at the end of my prayers, they teach me how to listen.” – Terry Tempest Williams
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