Green Jays Stage

December 6, 2019.  We returned to our haunts near Rio Grande City the week of Thanksgiving.  One very good birding location is Salineno World Birding Center located on the Rio Grande River and thus in danger.  The current expectation is a wide caliche roadway between river and birding, nothing to spoil the birding center so long as the birds aren’t repulsed by construction.  (But there are those insisting we need a continuous WALL …)  If anywhere near Salineno in the November-March months, this place is worth the search.  (The birds go elsewhere to breed summer/fall.)

I’ve been thinning and tweaking photos since we got back, looking for a green jay image that captures their playful energy.  Today, I encountered a poetry form that so fits the experience of watching green jays – birds flapping around noisily, people holding still quietly.  I don’t think I’ve seen a puente poem before, and this is certainly the first one I’ve written.  Thanks go to Ken Gierke @ https://rivrvlogr.com/2019/12/06/finding-direction-puente/ for stirring my creativity.  The puente form puts two perspectives together with a single common thread, and I knew immediately which photos to collage together to show the two “sides” of Salineno: birds on the far side of a large Mesquite growing laterally; birders a few yards away on the entrance side.

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In Eye Of Beholder

August 30, 2019.  Summer travels included a week in the National Forest near Lake City,  Colorado.  Beautiful country – in spite of recent destructive avalanches (record snowfalls continued into June) – and in spite of beetle demise of once-lush Spruce.  Spruce is “old news” there, avalanches and floods garnering all the attention.  For most.  My eyes kept going to the Spruce. No longer alive, yet holding form through assaults of weather, marmots, bears, moose.  Like a feather:  you can mess with it, but it goes back to original form.

Big grey “feathers” were everywhere, mostly in multiples that made capturing the form with camera difficult.  Might be time to work on my sketching skills!  One solo Spruce stood at road’s edge, and I managed to get there in sufficient light and zero traffic on  departure morning.  Took a while to isolate enlarged branch from background, but: a labor of love.

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Mountain Morning

August 6, 2019.  After a long trip comes an indefinite period of prowling through camera images and phrases noted in journals, piecing together highlights of experiences to be savored (likely not repeated).   In June we camped several days in the National Forest up above Cloudcroft NM, where we frequent in August for the annual Gathering Of Circles.  This year our mountain time had to be earlier, as Gary’s school year shifted earlier.  Tonight the Gathering begins; but yesterday teachers were already back at Stony Point High School.   Since I cannot be at the Gathering, I am instead immersed in photos and memories of June’s mountain bliss.  Wild irises were in bloom – something I’d never seen before, as they finish their cycle well before August.   I found this haiku in my journal.

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New Flute Bag

May 27, 2019.  We are gearing up for another summer of travels … to places we’ve never been before, to places we’ve been yearning to get back to … in both cases, places that might present the next Native American wooden flute (or two) for Gary’s collection.  He is selective!  He trusts my skills and selectivity to yield the right custom bag for each flute.

Bags pictured were made last September, for flutes acquired last summer.

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Envelope Of Hope

May 14, 2019.  Some days distractions interrupt, spinning me off into wonderment.  Today has been one of those, thanks to V.J. Knutson’s post of her poem “Bleeding Edges” @ https://vjknutson.org/2019/05/13/bleeding-edges/

The phrase “envelope of hope” just kept tugging at me.  Where better to look for such an envelope than amidst blooming poppies?  These blooms are from last month, collaged with a metaphoric envelope.

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Flaming Peace

April 14, 2019.  Recently I had the opportunity to sit in silence by a campfire, letting the dancing flames erase just about every thought … then present a face smiling at me from a burning log.  Not a laughing grin … a serene smile.  Apart from the added circle, this image is what my phone captured.  The next morning I stared again at the face, recalling how it had indeed smiled all the way to sudden collapse.  The haiku here is the result of multiple revisits to figure out just what message to take from that smile.

Maybe you will see a different message.

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