Tag: nature

Be Present

No path would blossom
if summers were about poetry –
a colder vine leaving me water.

Must let earth & animal
use this pure and wild air –
listen for dusk.

(I’m not running a weekly challenge, but I am inviting others to join me in playing Magnetic Poetry online.  For details click here.)

Eagle Encounters

Tales of bald eagles
entice exploration,
cameras ready –

Great Blue heron,
a woodpecker,
nuthatches and
chickadee – all
grace our lenses..

.. no eagles.

Then driving into town,
business and errands
distracting, a shape looms,
rises up from the asphalt

black tail feathers
bordered by white
to match its noble head.

We search again,
follow directions
down country roads
into the bush…

… no eagles.

Friends visit,
we tour, show off
our rural beauty,
espy white amongst
autumn’s foliage

two eagles hunting
along river’s flow –
one veers to fly
overhead, in salute,
or mocking…

…no cameras.

 

 

 

Mindfulness

Even as we harvest
the fruits of our endeavors,

as the leaves of summer
give over to golden dreams

and light reaches through
gathering clouds, illuminating,

celebrating; we must not forget
that we are a part of this living

miracle, that our lives, in harmony
with Nature, deserve reverence.

Small is Beautiful (Poem and Photos)

Nature’s artistry
inspires awe –
jewelled throats
and iridescent curves

flight of the bumblebee 2

Calming hues
and contrasts
that buzz with
dedicated passion

Monarch 3

The vibrancy of wings –
intricate detailing –
orange floating
on unseen hands.

(Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is: small is beautiful)

Afternoon Visitor

Elegantly attired, he arrives,
focused on an afternoon feast –
garter snakes hiding in bushes –
hadn’t counted on human presence,
interrogates me with hawkish eyes,
just long enough to be immortalized.

(Written for dVerse, hosted by Lilian, who challenges us to create an alphabetical sestet.  To find out more or join in, click here.  Photo credit: V.J. Knutson)

 

Cricket Cacophony

Clouds cluster, warn of coming storms.   Having been shut in for days, I am anxious to get outside.  Trusty camera carefully secured around my neck,  hands firm on walker’s grip, I begin my slow stroll through the neighbourhood.   A gust of wind disrupts the flight of a bumblebee, and we collide: he striking my cheek.  I step back, startled.  No damage done.

I follow a walkway, built between the houses, leading to our community center. This route takes me past rows of flourishing gardens – a feast of vibrancy.  I slow to watch the bees delightedly dancing from bloom to bloom.  At the edge of my friend’s house, I hear the crickets, loud and raucous, as if they know that she is currently away.  I pause to listen, surprised to hear such unabashed chirping mid-day.

Lingering, I hope to catch a glimpse of one, maybe even a photograph, but the creatures are securely tucked in the shadows of the overgrown foliage, oblivious to my presence.   I capture the flight of a bee, and the elegant profile of a mourning dove, and then turn back. A white winged moth brushes my hand in passing and then stops long enough for me to take a picture.  The crickets keep on singing.

Midday crickets sing –
revel in nature’s bounty,
as storm clouds gather.

(Written for dVerse, hosted tonight by Victoria.)

Night Calls

A shrill note
pierces night’s curtain –
an insistent, pestering alarm

Is it loneliness
that motivates the caller –
the need for a warm body
to calm her feathered fears
or a throaty hum to lull her?

Or is this an infant cry,
a hunger for nourishment
anxious in separation
waiting for mother’s
regurgitated assurances,
father’s watchful stance.

An onerous honk
breaks through
the high-pitched peep
and then, as
warmth wanes
a softer, sweeter
melody presents
followed by
a laughing trill

avian pleasure
prefacing night’s slumber.