nature
The other side of silence
Friday Haiku
Thankful Thursday: mixed bag edition
Friday Haiku
Feeding the mysterious
Sunday Confessional: crow envy
Lots of birds visit our yard. We have multiple feeders, a bird bath, native shrubs, and mature trees. Our cats are indoor-only. We’re a bird-friendly destination, yo. Which is why it’s so baffling that crows don’t come around very often. I love crows’ black shininess and their sass. I love their raucous cries and intelligence. I just love crows.
Today I got to love them from afar. We were walking around the neighborhood and were two blocks from our house when we saw a couple crows on a roof, one in a tree, another hopping in the street and another few hopping on the lawn. What did that house and yard have that we don’t have? I stood below this light and asked these two why they didn’t come around my place.
They didn’t give me an answer. Color me envious.
Friday Haiku
In defense of not living in the moment
The thermometer currently reads 18 degrees. The sky is gray. It’s snowing and blowing, and is forecast to continue like that through tomorrow morning. I try to live in the moment, to be mindful and present in my life. But right now, in this moment, I’m looking ahead to spring and lilacs in bloom.
Fight me, Pema Chödrön.
Friday Haiku
Thankful Thursday: Goldfinch edition
This morning I woke to about 10 inches of snow on the rail. The finches, especially the goldfinches, were very busy in the sunflowers. I brought my camera to the basement and sat next to Marcel at the sliding glass door where he was intently monitoring the birds’ movements. I snapped a total of 124 photos of those active little birds, confident I was getting many good shots. Wrong. Between their near-constant movement, the swaying of the sunflower stalks, and Marcel rubbing himself against me, I ended up with a whole lot of soft images. But I couldn’t delete them all and am including a sample here to document the lovely start to my day.
Dear Barry, Susan, & Bob
I’d forgotten about this evidence of your idiocy until just now when I revisited the photos from my July camping trip in the Uncompahgre National Forest. The aspen groves were absolutely glorious. Why did you think anyone would care one iota that you’d been there? Because I’ve got news for you–Barry, Susan, and Bob–we don’t.
Sincerely,
Tracy
Friday Haiku
Shades of Browning
Friday Haiku
Thanks a lot, October
Yesterday we had a high of 80 degrees which then swung to a low of about 20 degrees today. We’re currently at a balmy 25 degrees. Hooray?
I’m praying to the goddesses that we don’t lose trees and shrubs as a result of the temperature swing. The last time this happened, many trees and shrubs (including our own) died. And I’m talking old, well-established trees. It was heartbreaking. The only upside to this current situation is that the snow might provide enough insulation to keep them alive. Last time, there was no moisture involved in the temperature swing.
I’m beaming toasty thoughts to the trees and shrubs. Please hang in there!
Red Eyes R Us
Behold
Friday Haiku
Wordless Wednesday
Hello, October
Poppy pride
Many people welcome and celebrate autumn’s arrival, and I agree there’s much to be said for cooler temperatures. However, I’m not a fan of stuff dying off. I get that it has to happen, but what makes my heart soar is the new growth and bright colors after long, dark winters.
So today I take another look back at the poppies from my front yard. Look at all that glorious color and all that potential for many more blooms!
On this final day of September, I celebrate the exuberant poppy.
What’s that you say?
Friday Haiku
Who am I?
I’ve been working on my bird-book project and decided to take a break to post here. As I searched my photos for a Northern Flicker (the bird I’ll be profiling next), I happened upon this photo. I like it very much.
However, I don’t know what kind of bird it is. It reminds me of an oystercatcher, but I don’t think it is (due to the white eye ring). So, if you can identify this bird, please enlighten me. (Believe me, I’m feeling like an imposter right now. Darn you, shorebirds!)



























