Belonging (49)

Sunday bird walk near my mom’s

A handful of us stop to watch a scrub jay in the bare branches of a tree

Marvel over his unusual silence, his stillness

Maybe he is meditating, someone says

Yes, I say, maybe he’s a Buddhist

People laugh

I savor the miracle of easy camaraderie.

Home for Offer? (48)

Walking in the road with a basket in my arms, I hear my first mockingbird

Beige breast in sunlight, singing from the top of a tree

Below him in the bare branches, an old, messy nest of twigs makes me wonder.

Blessings (43)

I stand at the kitchen sink washing and cutting vegetables for soup. It is late dusk. I work in a small circle of light from the stove. I smell garlic, dandelion greens, leeks, green onions, olive oil. “You can close your eyes,” James Taylor sings. “It’s all right.” A white crowned sparrow’s melodic call comes through the open window, pure, piercing. A fullness wells up in me, that blend of sweetness and sadness, this fleeting life. I slice mushrooms with slow, even strokes of the knife, tears in my eyes.

New Year Love (42)

My day off, I eat soup in bed, devour H Is for Hawk

Open windows, goldfinch sparrow house finch voices loud, happy

Together we savor this still-young year.