weary soul needs solitude
two kindred souls
While walking on the path around the pond at Davidsonville Park, I startled this American Bittern. This stocky heron prefers freshwater marshes. One of the shyer herons, the Bittern is a solitary soul, and spends most of its time hidden among the reeds and tall grasses.
You really should fly away
I am, after all, your predator
Yet you stay, blink your eye
Invite me into your presence
The second hand freezes
All sense of time
All sense of self slips away
There is nothing but
The yellow of your eye
The whistle of the wind
The realization that we are all one
Connection in this thing called life.
they are all around
in the reeds by the water
While I was watching the Golden Eagle yesterday at Bombay Hook, this Red-Winged Blackbird flew in and perched on a thicket not ten feet from the car. He was totally unperturbed by my presence. And sat there stripping the seeds from the tangle on which he was sitting. In the breeding season, the Red-Winged Blackbird is a study in ebony, with striking red epaulets lined in yellow. This bird shows the bird in non-breeding attire, with a subdued wingbar and a striking red and yellow pattern of dots across his back. I had never noticed this striking pattern before. It just goes to show, that every sighting brings the possibility of previously unseen beauty. One of the joys of birding.
I do not know how long
we stood staring at each other
across the shell-littered beach.
Only the ocean waves crashing
ashore marked time’s passing.
What I do know is I stumbled
into the brown orb of her eye –
into the well of all existence,
where there are no boundaries,
no walls of separation.
No definitions of you, of me, of I.
For a moment, everything shimmered
with the possibility – no, the reality –
of life’s eternal truths. And then
she blinked and flew away.