Welcome. Thanks for visiting. I hope you enjoy your Labor Day Weekend. The picture above was taken yesterday on my way to pick up this week's Community Supported Agriculture share at the WEI's farm at Amador Hill. I count something like two dozen or so sandhill cranes in that field. That's more than I've seen anywhere else locally. Within the past week, I've also seen Canada (not Canadian unless you saw them cross the border) geese, fully fledged and recovered from their molt, starting their Autumn "training flights." This makes sandhill cranes and Canada geese part of my answer to today's bioregional quiz Where you at question "14. Name five resident and five migratory birds in your area." Here's my complete answer:
Tomorrow's question, which will get us three-quarters of the way through the quiz, is "15. What is the land-use history of where you live?" No time frame provided. Thanks for listening. Come again when you can. Rants, raves and reflections served here daily. Poetry (see below) irregularly.
This morning the world’s white face reminds usthat life intends to become serious again.And the same loud birds that all summer longannoyed us with their high attitudes and chattersilently line the gibbet of the fence a little stunned,chastened enough.
They look as if they’re waiting for thingsto grow worse, but are watching the house,as if somewhere in their dim memoriesthey recall something about this abandoned gardenthat could save them.
The neighbor’s dog has also learned to wakewithout exaggeration. And the neighbor himselfhas made it to his car with less noise, startingthe small engine with a kind of reverence. At the windowhis wife witnesses this bleak tableau, blinkingher eyes, silent.
I fill the feeders to the top and cart themto the tree, hurrying back insideto leave the morning to these ridiculousbirds, who, reminded, find the rough shelters,bow, and then feed.