shrinking woodlands, flash of gold–
following your voice
The golden winged warbler is a tiny (5″) bird that is among the most endangered on a long list of endangered birds. The population has been reduced by 2/3 in the last 50 years, mostly due to habitat loss in both breeding grounds (the largest population breeds in Michigan) and wintering habitat (in Central and South America–a long migration away). They are shy, but vocal.
Once again, Draw a Bird Day, the 8th of each month, is serving as a placeholder here at MeMadTwo while Nina takes an extended break. Come back soon Nina!
In the meantime, you can find me (Kerfe) at https://kblog.blog/.
Every beach vacation comes with its own bird. One year it was mockingbirds, one year a very vocal cardinal. One year, crows.
This year we were accompanied by grackles. They would sit on the railing of the beach house speaking in their rusty tongue, lined up like soldiers. If one turned, all turned. Once they saw someone was paying attention they would vocalize a bit more and suddenly disappear.
On the beach they appeared ahead of my walking path and waited for me, foraging in the waves. As soon as I caught up, they flew off ahead again.
Although it’s natural to see their iridescent strutting as a variation on crows, grackles are actually part of the lark family, related also to blackbirds and orioles.
But they do have a connection to crows—all back birds are said to know magic, to live on the borders of the possible unknown.
standing on the edge
between water and shoreline,
you pause, watch me watching you–
our eyes meet through layered light
For Colleen’s #TankaTuesday, poet’s choice of words, a haibun.
Draw-a-Bird Day is placeholding here at method two madness each month until Nina returns. You can find me at https://kblog.blog/ in the meantime.
I’ve also linked to dVerse Open Link night.
you woke me not with
singing, but with squawks—crowlike,
insistent and loud—
a flash of blue amid oak leaves,
glittering with morning sun
I read online that bands of blue jays making a racket are often harassing a predator–must have been a hawk about the other morning.
I will continue to do draw-a-bird day here, but I’ve been posting at kblog while Nina is taking an extended break. Once she returns, I’ll be back at MeMadTwo regularly again. In the meantime, visit me at my other site!
I consulted with the Oracle about this tiny (3″) Mexican hummingbird, one of many of the endangered bird species of the world. Less than 1000 are estimated to exist.
I did my first sketch, above, in colored pencil, but felt the colors lacked enough vibrancy, so I painted the top one with my metallic watercolors.
Flowers grow feathered
wings humming bird poetry
air breathes spiritsong
jeweled feathers caught
in reflected mist—cloistered
This is another brightly colored resident of the South American cloud forest, the grey-breasted mountain toucan. As with all inhabitants of the world’s cloud forests, they are a threatened species because of habitat loss.
Drawn with neocolors.
Crow calls to me from above. There he is—on that roof. He extends his invitation again and again.
leave sidewalks behind–
rise, and conjure golden fields
waving to azure
skies filled with high flying clouds,
wings singing songs into the air
I know there is magic here, even in places filled with concrete and glass.
Holding out my arms, I wish: carry me home.
watching my child-self
lying in a bed of green–
opened up, shining
For NaPoWriMo today, we are talking to animals. Crow is always hanging around in my world.
As usual I saw Kerfe’s post and remembered Draw a Bird. Seeing many low swooping hawks in the area. Majestic creatures, birds.
caught like a
shadow just beyond
imprinted on the synapse
it flies on
the winds of held breath–
air with blurs
of moving feathers, colors
surrounded by song
My NaPoWriMo poem today has nothing to do with the prompt, and everything to do with it being the 8th of April, which is National Draw-a-Bird-Day. I have never actually seen a painted bunting, but I have painted this bird before, in 2015, when one was spotted in Brooklyn. This version was done with a new set of watercolor pencils I received for my birthday earlier this year.
and yet we
shout, we run through skies
like fire. Where
do we live?
Our voices surround the trees,
our dances timeless.
We are deep,
We entwine with movements, with
stillness, with the air,
that grow green and then
the wind. We fall apart and
We have no
surfaces, no years
to count or
We laugh like creatures with wings
scattering clear light.
Our form is
unmeasured. We speak
in no know
we need no reason. No one
can tell you our names.
NaPoWriMo has asked us to spread joy today.