First Breath

The cries of curlews
hang silver in the morning
light my heart glides


Each year we have curlews nesting on the ground in the back field where cattle graze. Each year chicks are lost to predators including cats, buzzards, foxes and owls. One year the farmer ploughed up the field nest and chicks and all. The parent birds work so hard to protect their offspring. Night and day they circle around emitting a raucous warning cry. Sometimes they dive bomb me in the garden but I don’t mind although those long sharp beaks look a little scary! I worry about those chicks. But some must survive and in the spring when I first hear the beautiful curlew call I am filled with joy.

The Fallen

Beauty lies frozen

soft at my closed opening

feathers upturn sky

 

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Such a sad morning to find this poor, wee robin by my door.  Much as I understand death is inevitable for all creatures, I sometimes find it hard to take.  The image of this bird has haunted me all day.