in a year
in a year
Patiently we live stream, waiting for Wek’-Wek’ the last Peregrine chick to fledge from Sather Tower.
On nearby Evans Hall, his brothers Fauci and Kaknu, and his parents Annie and Grinnell encouraged the youngster to join them.
At last, “this bird has flown.”
So the story ends, and so it begins.
In this our lost year-of-Covid, Annie and Grinnell have raised two families and unknowingly shared their intimate life with a world of humans.
In darkest March 2020, these beloved Peregrines were a gift to the imagination when four walls defined our world. With joy we watched as Annie laid her eggs, the chicks hatched, devoted parents provided food for their brood, and Grinnell kept the chicks warm at night while Annie took her rest. And then with excitement, in May 2020, we watched as the brothers Sequoia and Redwood flapped their wings, caught the wind and soared for the first time. And a few days later, with her brother’s encouragement, Poppy joined them and was airborne. And all was delight.
Another year has passed, and another family raised and fledged. Annie and Grinnell we thank thee for showing us that dedication and devotion will guide us through the darkness. Until next year dear Peregrines, good hunting and fair winds.
the world awakes and a garden delights
beyond this green paradise
a forgotten man has died
sweet peas planted
a bittersweet goodbye
we knew not your story
we know only your farewell
humming truck tires on Highway One drowned by the Pacific
lanky Bishop Pines loom
headland prairies rise above the cold rough waters
cliffs glazed in reds and yellow ochre
clockwork of tides, migration of whales, and nesting of birds
sheltered by a windswept fir
nomadic narcissi bloom
winter tragedies fade
new beginnings found
yet swamped after the storm
finding our star
gathering our strength
making our plans: moving forward
knowing the Furies regroup
how precious the life of a peregrine
The Right to Vote is ephemeral.
It is as fragile as a butterfly.
It must be protected, or it becomes extinct.
Democracy, like nature, must be nurtured.
It is fragile and easily destroyed.
And it is difficult to restore what has been lost.
Dante and Virgil divine this “comedy,”
And point the beast to the gates of hell.
Raise your hands and be counted.
Awake, arise, and vote!
“thousands of miles
stars and rivers
cold and hungry
father, mother, and child
and promise of
a new year”
We are not separate from the world.
Always find balance.
The path you make is on dirt shared by others.
All remarkable, mysterious and precious as you.
Thank you for the hummingbirds…a glimmer of hope we cherish in our gardens.
Hear our votive prayer for the bird souls, thousands dead in New Mexico, victims of the wildfires fueled by climate change:
“And when bird song is gone will earth be the only witness?
Will only rocks grieve the absence?”
Do we pray for a miracle
awake from the dream that our world consists of disconnected beings?
304,604 acres burned,
39% containment, and
855 structures destroyed.
the fate of habitats
…..endangered, vulnerable, threatened
in the path of hubris?
3 years, 252 days,
over 20,000 lies and only $ 750 paid in taxes,
68 environmental regulations reversed (32 in progress),
7.15 million COVID-19 cases and 205,000 deaths, and
37 days until we exit the Paris Climate Agreement.
The fate of communities
…..who serve our country, grow our food, heal our sick, pay their taxes
in the path of progress?
Say Their Names.