Before the White-winged Dove Returns

White-winged Dove in my Tucson yard 4-13-2013

I will be gone before the White-winged Dove returns

Before the monsoon rains scent the desert air again;

I will not be here to see the lesser nighthawks slice through the twilight

Or hear the twittering chatter of purple martins in flight.

I will not see the cactus bloom this year,

painting the desert in a riot of color in spring

as Palo Verdes burst with yellow blossoms along tree lined streets.

There is no way to convey this desert landscape.

You must be here to smell the fragrance of creosote after the rains;

You have to stand on your patio on a moonlit night and feel the desert wind caress your legs

While the coyote chorus sings down the canyon and calls up the moon.

You must be here to hear the Cactus Wrens cackle on a hot summer’s day,

Or hear the Rock Wrens trill from the mountain slopes.

I will not be here when the white-winged dove returns to perch on saguaro blossoms,

But, I will know they are here.

I have seen them before and I will know they are here again—desert birds in a desert landscape

Rich with life and memories of things seen and done and still to be done

When the white-winged dove returns.

~kathie adams brown (January 28, 2014)

An Ode to Sycamore Canyon

Sycamore Canyon 7-22-2010

I came to say “good-bye” to you,

I thought you’d make me cry,

but you have changed so much

and now I wonder why?

Your wild slopes have been torn up,

machinery rumbles on,

belching out its black exhaust

‘till all the birds have gone.

The bird song has diminished

and traffic noise increased.

though beauty still surrounds you,

You’ve lost your sense of peace!

I found a few fine sparrows,

the cactus wrens still call,

I walked right by an owl,

it made me feel quite small.

I think I’ll just remember you

the way you used to be,

there’s no stopping all this progress

but this Progress ain’t for me!

~Kathie Adams Brown (January 16, 2014)

September Moon

Moonrise over the Rincon Mountains

The harvest moon
rising full behind the Rincon Mountains,
a glowing orb in a cobalt sky,
with poorwills calling from the rocky canyons
and a dry desert wind running free
like a ghost horse
between cactus and sagebrush
telling me an age-old story,
whispers from the past
illuminated by the light
of a September moon.

~kathie adams brown (September 20, 2013)

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

The Quail is a Gray Shadow

The Quail is a Gray Shadow

The quail is a gray shadow

Nestled in the spindly arms of the green desert broom

Sanctuary

From sun, rain,

and predators.

Hold; hold still. 

~kathie adams brown (8-19-13)

The Way of the Desert

Stealthily she comes on powerful wings,

dropping from the sky,

darting between houses,

as if they were canyon walls,

eyes fixed on her prize;

the hapless Gambel’s quail

with her brood of chicks feeding beneath my feeders.

The Cooper’s Hawk is spotted!

The birds EXPLODE with fear!

The quail run for cover

beneath the sheltering green skirts of a desert broom.

The hawks lands on my feeder pole and scours the yard with a hunter’s eye.

I run from the house like a screaming banshee to chase her away.

The hawk hesitates, then flies.

She is not afraid of me!

She, too, has hungry mouths to feed!

This is the way of the desert.

~kathie adams brown (May 29, 2013)

Sunday Morning Litany in the Desert in Spring

Palo Verde Blossoms

Sunshine

Coffee on the patio

Mesquite trees in flower

Pollen everywhere

Goldfinches flittering

Roses in bloom,

Sunshine in the morning,

Shade in the afternoon.

Sunshine

Potted geranium by my chair

Lizards tumble in the yard

White-winged doves serenade

Hummingbirds hovering,

Palo Verde trees in bloom,
Insects a-buzzing,

Sunshine in the morning,

Shade in the afternoon.

Sunshine

Cactus wrens are calling,

Yellow blossoms on prickly pear,

A coronet of creamy blossom

Atop towering saguaros

Sky as blue as a lizard’s belly,

Ocatillos are in bloom,

Sunshine in the morning,

Shade in the afternoon,

It's springtime in the desert,

It's springtime in the desert,

It's Spring!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 29, 2013)

NaPoWriMo 2013/30 Poems in 30 Days

Running Home

Santa Rita Mountains, Tucson, AZ 2010

What is this that awakens me?

What is this pull I feel?

I rise on a sunny morning,

I get into my car and drive,

I pass beneath a Swainson’s hawk circling above,

I leave the city streets behind.

Around me, the desert opens wide—

I feel my mind relaxing

As each mile falls behind,

And then I see the wonder

Of this wild place

Each mile draws me closer

To these cactus covered slopes

Where birds fly free in a pale blue sky,

Where birds nest in pale green scrub,

Where mountain peaks rise up and stand

Shoulder to shoulder towering

Over spiny saguaros,

Deep canyons,

And me.

—I am being called

—I am being pulled

—I am running

Home.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 17, 2013)

NaPoWriMo 2013 Day 17 Prompt: Write a poem of greeting.

A Contrast in Habitats

Part 1: New England

I love autumn’s blaze of color thrown across the hills,

I love the sound of trickling water tumbling down the rills,

I love tall pines in winter standing stark against the snow,

I like the little villages dressed up for Christmas show,

I love crocuses in springtime with peep frogs heard throughout the land

And in the summer I like to watch waves pounding on the sand.

I love maple sugaring in spring and apple picking in the fall,

I love New England’s old red barns and lumpy gray stone walls.

I love New England churches standing tall and white on the town green,

I love a quiet woodland walk where no one else has been,

With so many things to like, including pastures full of cows,

Why is that I find myself living in the desert now?

Part 2: The Desert

I love the feathery green foliage of our native desert trees

And city ponds filled with ducks and occasionally some grebes,

I like the craggy mountains that encircle me in town,

I like the Monsoon rains when they come pouring down,

I love pale green saguaros standing tall against the sky,

I love the murmur of Gambel’s quail as they are passing by,

I love the lizards in my yard climbing everywhere,

I love the sight of nighthawks as they slice through evening air,

I love looking up and seeing stars shining in the night,

Twinkling in the darkness and sending down their light,

I love a place where all year round I watch the flowers bloom,

A place where I can live outside in an outdoor room,

I love hummingbirds in winter, and not having to shovel snow,

If I love this desert life so much, why would I ever go?

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 8, 2013)

NaPoWriMo2013 Day 7

In the Desert Now

I am in the desert now,

In the soft low light of October,

But every now and then

I catch a glimpse of autumn color,

The remembered rainbow

Of the forest’s last fling,

And I think I hear the sweet autumn song

Of the white-throated sparrow,

Or the crunching of dried leaves beneath my feet.

Is that the scent of apples carried on the wind?

Can I really smell the memory of  

The first wood fire on the hearth?

But these are gossamer threads

Pulling me back to a place I have left behind.

I am in the desert now

Learning new rhythms to life and seasons,

I am learning new scents and sights and sounds,

The kestrel calls to me, the thrasher and the phainopepla,

It is the Say’s phoebe whose voice I hear at dawn.

I am learning a new melody,

Soon I will sing the desert’s song.

~Kathie Adams Brown (October 24, 2012)

Return to Tucson

It is so quiet here
in this desert city
under this pale blue sky
where lizards creep across my yard
drawing warmth from sun-heated stone.
I have hummingbirds in my backyard,
and pigeons overhead.
In many ways it is like any other city, yet,
it is so different too.
I have returned and I am new,
new to this part of town, this neighborhood, this house.
The desert wind that caresses my face is familiar,
and I know these lungs have breathed
the scent of creosote bush that perfumes the morning air before.
I look out to the circle of mountains surrounding this city
and I feel their embrace
as a stony hug.

The Silver Song of the Desert: OSI

The silver song of the desert,
from the black throat of a bird,
a sparrow sitting in sunlight
on an arid desert morn
perched near a cactus thorn
its melody floating around me,
its presence a mystery still,
this silvery voice in the desert
is calling me, calling me,
still.

~Kathiesbirds (June 22, 2008)

Prompt 17: Melody

Desert Cathedral: Skywatch Friday

(Photo taken Feb. 4, 2008 by Kathie with a Nikon Coolpix)

Desert Cathedral

A gossamer sky
Filters winter sunlight
Upon singing choirs
In feathered gowns
Who float through
Creosote scented
Spiky cholla cathedrals
The black-throated bell choir
Sends their tinkling sound
Over mesquite, prickly pear,
and hackberry covered slopes
With saguaro sentinels standing guard
over the rocky wash
where bobbers dance
and trill,
Here in the gossamer
Winter light—
music.

~Kathiesibrds (Jan. 1, 2008)

This is my contribution to Skywatch Friday hosted by Wiggers World Be sure to visit for links to other Skywatch photos.