Birding is Fun Wherever You Are

Brown Pelican at Lakeside Park in Tucson, AZ 2009

Birds are around, in the sky, in the air

With birds on the ground there are birds everywhere.

Birds in the water, birds in the trees,

You can see birds wherever you please!

There are birds at the pond, and birds at birds at the beach,

Birds in your yard and birds out of reach,

But sometimes the birds are off at the mall,

And sometimes you only know birds from their calls!

They are down by the river, or off at the park,

Nesting in bushes, or climbing up bark!

Birds are nature come close-up to meet,

With feathers and beaks and funny bird feet!

So look out your window of your house or car,

‘cause Birding is Fun wherever you are!

~Kathie Adams Brown (May 3, 2012)

Original post with additional photos can be seen at Birding is Fun

I Hate Dust

It is easier to complain about dust than cancer

It is easier to see

And easier to remove.

I can be angry about the dust.

I can wipe it clean and it is gone.

The dust will not ravage a body

Like cancer can.

I can tell if the dust has returned

Before I know about the cancer.

Both are silent things

One floats through the air,

The other slides through the blood stream.

Both alight somewhere

And start to accumulate,

Clogging up the works

Making the house unclean.

Just a little lemon oil and a dust rag are all I need

to remove the dust, but,

I wonder how chemo smells

And if everything glows and sparkles inside

When it is through.

I hate dust.

~Kathie Adams Brown (4-19-12)

An Early Spring Walk in the Evening

Shawsheen River 4-7-2012

It is a peaceful occupation to walk

In the woods by the small pond

As the sun sinks low

And red-winged blackbirds call,

And Grackles whistle and click,

While wood ducks float lazily preening,

And all the world is hushed

With the clear blue sky an empty vault

Above the greening grass

As the lazy river glides by quietly

From lack of rain

And robins serenade the evening twilight

And bid good-bye to this day.

~Kathie Adams Brown (March 27, 2012)

There Are the Dead

 There are the dead

Standing in the bog

While a flicker laughs behind me

At the slowly creeping green,

The first sign of spring

Here among the dead.

Geese are busy nest building,

The wood ducks paddle

between silver stumps,

and tall snags

like up-ended bones,

stark, bare, and beautiful,

engraved by wind,

carved by bird beaks

with nest holes that now provide homes,

these silver arms reach to a springtime sky

blue as a robin’s egg,

strong arms that serve as perches

for the kingfisher and his mate

laughing their rattling call,

 a sound like dry bones,

while tree swallows glide by

on metallic blue wings,

building nests filled with life

among the dead.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 3, 2012)

In the Last Days of Winter

In the last days of winter

hungry hawks hunt my bird feeders,

the bog  thaws and refreezes

and grackles return to the north.

Red-winged blackbirds call from the swamp

their “konk-a-REE” calls trilling over calm waters.

A late February snow starts to fall

with flakes as fine as stardust.

Soon they grow to the size of feathers

white and drifting to the ground,

forming a lumpy blanket on the still brown grass

before they obscure it completely.

Outside my window the gray sky is fractured by the

limbs and twigs of oak trees, maples, and poplar.

How is it that this fractured gray world filled

with drifting snow and downy flakes

can feel so peaceful and soothing?

I am mesmerized by whiteness

and the muffling of the snow,

but the blackbird’s konk-a-REE

as he flashes his red epaulettes reminds me

that under this white blanket the bulbs are warming,

and fine green points will soon poke out their faces

to greet the light of spring.

Kathie Adams Brown (February 29, 2012)

Robin's Egg Blue

Though it is February first, it feels like the end of winter

My woodpile is getting low and the temperature is rising

Down by the Shawsheen River the robins flood the banks

Red-breasted and bold, digging in the forest duff,

kicking and picking with their beaks,

they are a sure sign of spring in this warm rain,

and now the rain clouds are breaking apart

become tattered fleece in a sky as blue as a robin’s egg,

then even the clouds are gone and all I see is blue,

robin’s egg blue

and I wonder how long it will be

before I find a Robin’s nest with sky blue eggs nestled inside?

~Kathie Adams Brown (February 1, 2012)

Poem for a Winter's Day

I watch the steady fall of rain against the dove gray sky

Outside my window a few snowflakes fall like tiny pearls among liquid rhinestones

And in the hedgerow the sparrows gather with juncos hopping

Like slate colored shadows

The cardinals shyly watching are the only flash of color on this stormy day.

Here inside from where I watch the fire crackles on the hearth

Its warmth pressing against my back.

It is a pleasant place to be, inside looking out

And I feel the primeval need of this moment

In this technological world I now live in.

I pour myself another cup of tea, and settle in.

~Kathie Adams Brown (January 12, 2012)