Day 211

July 30, 2021

some pictures and a poem

A Storm Coming

 

A single heron drops down on

the peak of a tree, investigating

the waters above the ducks.

His voice, a monster

in the disguise of a graceful

flying spirit.

 

He stands with his head

pulled into his shoulders

as the wind blows

the black clouds closer.

I am haunted

by presence I cannot grasp

but it entangles me in wings.

 

Second heron out of nowhere

flies close to the first.

But now the storm has arrived.

Herons have moved to a

protected spot out of sight

and ducks are swimming

towards their grass island.

Raindrops are full

falling hard on the windshield.

Cattails bend to the ground.

I am safe.  The air pressure

decreases with release

of the clouds.

 

Rain picks up

wind is blowing in the opposite

direction and the sound

is like oncoming traffic.

Hail is a possibility;

loud knocks on the car rooftop

 

I haven’t seen a bird fly by

for five minutes, but a row of

ducks are swimming across

the pond, a myriad of sizes

like they are scattering

towards their grass highlands.

Through the sheet of water

I have no clear vision,

wood duck blends with grayish

water, mallards swim

with a jerky motion

Mergansers halfway grown

 

Now the sun tries to speak

I wait for a rainbow

to appear

as color on the rookery sharpens.

There’s white and silver,

but I don’t believe he’ll win.

 

The wind makes the grasses sway

while

nine heron nests stand alone.

The summer residents dispersed already

leaving empty stick bowls

distributed across the sky.