The Evening of Owls (SWF)

To have the hidden so close,
watch its new life become wild,
though caught for a moment,
the display for me is more than perfect.
For, in this I see,
it is as it should be.

Owl nest can in evening woods
(far left)

I had the rare privilege to watch a bird-banding at a Great Horned Owl’s nest—a single owlet, several weeks old, within a nest can placed high in the crotch of a Sycamore in a local county park.
An evening I’d anticipated for the week, receiving an email note, earlier, from a friend—watcher of the nest and its occupants.

Sycamore branches and buttons

approaching the nest

And as we waited, watching the progress of man, from ground, to tree, to the nest below its golden branches, inside the can, waited the small owlet--
the prize of the pair nesting here each spring, and those who hope for its successes.

Banding the owlet

Banded and lowered slowly to the ground, it was compared in size and age to another young owl, an orphan hoping to be fostered into this family, raised beside this prize, as the second mouth to feed.

(all photos click to enlarge)

Great Horned Owl owlet #1,
protective display

light on sycamore

Great Horned Owl owlet #2

together

return to the nest

Then, raised into broad branches, both.
For, it is as it should be.

Sunset

Thank you, Susan!

See more Skywatch here.

Cavalcade of Cats : Lucy

Lucy

Guardian of the sink,
drip-watcher,
spunk under her feather-duster tail,
too shy to ask for love,
still, you must ask her.

Lucy
June 2008

This post commemorates the first birthday of my rescued kittens.
Their story can be found here.

Cavalcade of Cats : Olivia

Olivia

The princess,
sleeps on a feather bed,
leaving the warm spot I crawl under each night.

Olivia
June 2008

This post commemorates the first birthday of my rescued kittens.
Their story can be found here.

View more ABC Wednesdays here!

Cavalcade of Cats : Alex

Alex

My shadow,
never more than arm’s length away,
long and lean,
without a voice,
says everything with his touch.

Alex
June 2008

This post commemorates the first birthday of my rescued kittens.
Their story can be found here.

Cavalcade of Cats : Max

Max

The leader,
powerful and physically strong,
scales walls and leaps great distances,
to stand atop open doors,
his weighty tail thrown sideways,
and checks me several times in the night,
gentle paw to my chin,
rough tongue in the darkness, cleaning.

Max
June 2008

This post commemorates the first birthday of my rescued kittens.
Their story can be found here.

Given

Spring Pond

It seems odd that we would have him here,
the harsh, ratcheting call, clear, as he flies out above the pastures, swallows burbling all around—a kingfisher. Fishing with great gusto from the young trees encroaching upon the pond, he has stayed for almost two weeks--chattering as I walk the edges and sit, watching, from the dock.
Over water we had once thought to make ours—
tending it,
sculpting it,
grooming it,
for, perhaps, swimming.
Until now, having given it over, or more honestly, given it back to its own.

The edges fill, each year a bit more, as dry autumns have opened the banks for eager grasses. And warm summers have turned the shallows, rich and green with growth, to a basin, thick with life.

In order to look delicious to this little dabbling duck—
another new visitor to the pond, given back.
It would seem that in this giving,
it is we who have been given much.

Blue-winged Teal, Anas discors

Day (SWF)

Carolina Wren on Lamppost

Morning

Five forty-five, and barely lit--
already through the open porch door,
the sound of birds, eager for dawn, fills the air.
To the chill that still returns each night,
this brisk wake-up call races the sun--
outrunning it,
each time, to my window.

Then, as suddenly as it all began, it is finished.
And Day takes them away.

See more Skywatch here.

See more Camera Critters here.

New River

The New River Birding and Nature Festival is just days away--

a long-awaited gathering,
to the mountains of West Virginia,
as spring brings hundreds together there—
birds and people.

And, this year, the bloggers.

New year, new faces,
new gear, new places,
new bugs, new birds, new peers.

New trails, new climbs,
new tales, new times,
new smiles, new laughs, new tears.

Though piles of things I’ll bring with me,
lie scattered about the floor.
What I’ll bring back, just days from now,
I know is even more.

New River.
New friends.



Sharing a house for the week,
the people behind these blogs:
Hasty Brook
KatDoc's World
Mary's View
Nature Remains
Somewhere in NJ
Susan Gets Native
Sycamore Canyon
Wrenaissance Reflections

And, more of the flock, just down the road,
these fine folks from:

A Glorious Life

From the Faraway, Nearby
Life, Birding, Photos and Everything
My Life With Birds

And, of course,
our world famous guides, authors, artists and friends
who blog, too!
Bill of the Birds
Julie Zickefoose
Ohio Birds and Biodiversity
Wil Hershberger
and more!

View more ABC Wednesdays here!

Rain

Lichens and Fungi on dead log

The bright color brought me there, subtle beauty kept me, hunkered down, after rains had passed, on the narrow bank beside a tiny creek. This area untouched by the years’ changes, woods to pasture to scrub. Intact land, preserved as all around it lost to agriculture—these small plots still stand, saved because they could not serve.

White Trillium, Trillium grandiflorum

In air dripping with the sweetness of fruit blossoms, more wildflowers, natives here, beneath the old trees marking the small creek’s path.
Nodding beneath the heavy droplets,
their broad leaves drinking in spring.
While toads add their voices, each to the growing trill, the melancholy chords, build in a distant pond.

White Trillium
The Ohio State Wild Flower

I pass a neighbor’s yard, each evening, as I walk down our lane. His woods, old like mine, now raked bare, piles burned, the dark earth turned and prepared to seed—grass.
And I wonder if he has chosen to rid the banks of these old beauties,
or if he has not seen them as I have--
on a dim morning, drinking in the spring rain.

Mayapple, Podophyllum peltatum

Mayapple, not yet unfurled