Words on a Kite

 

Paper and string I may be,  

With tiny bones blown by gusts. 

The blue open sky knows my name,  

Even my shadow lets go.

Georgia

The Golden Cat

 

I dreamed a golden cat rang my doorbell with its tail. 

He was carrying a small sun and walked past me in a hurry as I opened the door.  

The cat said, “Is dinner ready,” though I had never agreed to cook dinner for a golden cat.  

It sat on my couch, turned into a loaf of bread, then back into a cat, offended that I noticed. 

Melted butter was dripping off the wall, and we gathered it into pink and green bowls.  

The cat yawned, swallowed the clock, and everything felt finished and perfectly wrong. 

Wrong is good sometimes.

Georgia

Pelicans and Cormorants

 

In a small community along the Florida coast, there lived a large population of Pelicans along with a large number of Cormorants.  Both are water birds and although they get along, they don’t really pay attention to each other.  Pelicans are large, brown and have large beaks with throat pouches that can hold up to three gallons of water.  Cormorants are medium sized, have dark brown colored bodies and long necks.

One thing these two birds have in common is building their nests on the ground not far from the coast land. The ground is not as safe and secure as other locations to build nests. Unfortunately, they will learn this firsthand when a severe windstorm passes through the coastline one afternoon.

A mother Cormorant had built her nest on the ground but didn’t realize it was too close to the water.  When the windstorm arrived, it blew the nest with four eggs into the water.

Mother Cormorant started squawking and shrieking in her loudest distress calls.  All the Pelicans and Cormorants saw the nest floating away and they were frantic.

Suddenly, one of the bigger Pelicans flew off in the direction of the nest.  He caught up to it, swooped down with his large beak, and scooped the nest with eggs into his large throat pouch.  It fit with ease!  The Pelican flew back to the Mother Cormorant and placed the nest gently at her feet, not one egg missing.

“Thank you, thank you so much! You saved my babies and you didn’t have to do that!  What empathy you have!  Until eternity, whenever I dive for my fish, I will share them with you.  You will never go hungry,” said Mother CormorantIn a small community along the Florida coast, there lived a large population of Pelicans along with a large number of Cormorants.  Both are water birds and although they get along, they don’t really pay attention to each other.  Pelicans are large, brown and have large beaks with throat pouches that can hold up to three gallons of water.  Cormorants are medium sized, have dark brown colored bodies and long necks.

One thing these two birds have in common is building their nests on the ground not far from the coast land. The ground is not as safe and secure as other locations to build nests. Unfortunately, they will learn this firsthand when a severe windstorm passes through the coastline one afternoon.

A mother Cormorant had built her nest on the ground but didn’t realize it was too close to the water.  When the windstorm arrived, it blew the nest with four eggs into the water.

Mother Cormorant started squawking and shrieking in her loudest distress calls.  All the Pelicans and Cormorants saw the nest floating away and they were frantic.

Suddenly, one of the bigger Pelicans flew off in the direction of the nest.  He caught up to it, swooped down with his large beak, and scooped the nest with eggs into his large throat pouch.  It fit with ease!  The Pelican flew back to the Mother Cormorant and placed the nest gently at her feet, not one egg missing.

“Thank you, thank you so much! You saved my babies and you didn’t have to do that!  What empathy you have!  Until eternity, whenever I dive for my fish, I will share them with you.  You will never go hungry,” said Mother Cormorant.

Ellen G

The Hero of Northern Boulevard

 Idling at a traffic light, on the barren expanse of Northern Boulevard. 

Motion suspended, thoughts suspended, a checkered ball suspended –  

No, rising, sailing, arcing joyfully 

High above the pavement, the stoplight, the chain link fence  

That sequestered an adjacent schoolyard teeming with children 

Who swirled in serpentine games. 

 

The soccer ball sunk silently into the maelstrom. 

My eyes retraced path to the narrow median where its flight began. 

Poised, triumphantly was a small round man 

Grey knit cap adorned his head, 

Atop an explosion of granite-hued beard 

That seemed to crumble in the radiance of his grin. 

 

He waved. In that moment,  

He was Yogi Berra on the pitcher’s mound. 

A war hero atop a festooned float. 

The light changed to green. 

He disappeared into his car and was swept out of sight 

In the freshly flowing traffic. 

Shelia

Birds

 

Today we had a rare, heavy snowstorm—something we don’t often get in my area. 

I feed the local birds with bits of bread, creating what I think of as Bird TV for my cat. This morning felt different. Early on, I set the bread out on the windowsill as usual and wondered if any birds would brave the storm at all. 

Normally, the big, plump pigeons and turtle doves arrive first, devouring nearly everything and knocking enough crumbs down for the smaller birds below. But during the swirling snow, none of them appeared. 

Instead, the little birds came—sparrows and starlings—battling the wind and stinging snowflakes as they pecked determinedly at the bread. Watching them struggle on, I found myself seeing them differently. Those small birds are braver than I ever gave them credit for—certainly braver than the big ones. 

Georgia

The Startling Starling

 

Hello, Starling, you startled me, I must say,

A darling Starling had decided to stay,

While all his friends were flying away,

Your family are deep in their play,

While you rest on my branch considering to stay,

Are you tired from flapping your wings away?

Or are you exhausted from listening to all that they say?

Family can be fatiguing I must say,

But you will miss them if they all fly away,

On this branch you can build your nest,

If you feel that you won’t miss the rest,

There are juicy worms in the garden to satisfy your appetite,

And a feeder with birdseed can be a delight?

The Starling considered my generous offer to stay,

Then winked at me and flew away.

Jim- January 26’

A Blessed Event

 

Two robins were perched on my backyard lawn deep in tweeting conversation. Clearly, from their colors, I could determine they were male and female. Their songs and behavior did not come across as a mating meeting. I judged it to be more about real estate. “Hey honey, where do you think we should build that nest? Will that bush do? Should we build in that tree?” It appeared, to my joy and appreciation that they settled on the pyracantha bush outside my large kitchen window. Good choice! The thorns would keep squirrels and cats away from their nest. The branches are sturdy enough to anchor it. They’ve picked a spot that’s safe cool and comfortable. Shortly, they got busy gathering twigs, grass, leaves and mud. Wisely, they pulled straw from a neighboring hanging planter. They both do the gathering, but only the female does the nest construction. She needed a few days to complete the architecture which includes weaving and sculpting. We females know how to get things done. This nest is not a bed for the parents; they sleep elsewhere. It is an incubator for the eggs. The perfect nest must serve as a baby cradle to keep the eggs and babies warm, dry and safe.

 

I really think these robins chose this pyracantha bush because they knew what joy and pleasure it would give my family to be able to watch the entire drama. Every morning, we would start the day with a visit to the blessed event; one egg a day for four days and the incubation period starts.

The mom spent most of the day sitting on the eggs, taking occasional time off to grab a bite of insects, worms and caterpillars. During this period, she actually moves the eggs around. In about 2 weeks, the eggs started to hatch, one a day. The chick, using its beak, poked a hole in the shell, struggling sometimes the whole day to free itself from the shell. 

 

What a joy to watch both parents appearing with food for those four hungry little open beaks. Such traffic, parents flying in; parents flying out. Mom still sat on the chicks to keep them warm and dry. The parents have full time jobs They protect the nest, find food and feed the hungry open mouths. In two weeks, the chicks were the size of their parents. When they were about 2 weeks old, they are fledglings and ready to leave home. Sadly, my family did not witness their departure. In the morning, they were in their cozy crowded nest, and when we looked, later that day, they were gone, without saying goodbye to us. In subsequent seasons, we have never had the joy of watching nature play this familiar role since sadly, the gardener pruned the pyracantha bush.

 

Tweet! Tweet! Are they mating or discussing the real estate?

 

Ethyl Haber