Yesterday Jim and I drove to a bird-banding event at Spring Creek Prairie. An expert was banding a gray catbird recently caught in the mist net. This beautiful bird had a russet patch of feathers on its head and lower abdomen. An area on its belly had no feathers. Instead a small swollen pouch formed a water bottle to keep its fledglings warm.![]()
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When the catbird was released and flew into the underbrush, it meowed like a kitten.![]()
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After the banding, we closed our eyes, stayed silent and listened to all the birds around us. Jason, the prairie’s bird expert, identified a peewee, orioles, red-winged blackbirds, yellowthroats, cardinals, and goldfinches. We walked in the mist of the morning, looking for and listening to birds. Frogs were croaking. Wildflowers were scattered in new green grasses. I hadn’t enjoyed anything as much in a long time.
Yesterday was the perfect spring day, blue sky, warm, no wind. Daffodils, crocuses, Lenten roses, and daisies are already blooming and our apricot tree is about to blossom. Oh joy!![]()
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Our Swainson’s thrushes and red-winded blackbirds have returned, and a bald eagle has been hunting on Holmes Lake. ![]()
In the early morning, a coyote the exact color of the mottled dun grasses hunted to the south of our home.![]()
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At night, we watched the full moon rise over the lake. Below that golden moon, a twirler with batons of golden light greeted the moonrise in her own resplendent way.
I haven’t written in a while. I’ve been working on a new book, “A Life in Lights.” And the long COVID winter, with its separation from friends, family and fun had made me gloomy. That’s not a mood I want to inflict on anyone.![]()
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But today I am filled with hope. Yesterday the first Indigenous person in our nation’s history was approved as Secretary of the Interior. Deb Haaland knows how to take care of her people and of public lands. When I read the news, I was dizzy with joy.![]()
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My first crocuses are up--gold, indigo and white flowers bursting with promise. The cranes have returned. A hard season is ending. Springtime is on the way.
This morning, fog has iced the trees and bushes into a crystalline display as ornate as Chihuly glass. Only a coyote and I are visiting this snowy gallery.
Evening sky without the moon![]()
Morning sky without the sun![]()
January snows as far as I can see![]()
My heart lives in another country.