Between Wet Squalls

Between wet squalls
sunshine and rainbows
the lake trail calls me

Down the street the trail forks
which is the road less traveled
on a circle?… no matter

I choose right
by far the most frequent choice
I am habituated

Prepared for whatever
two cameras ready
one for close up, one far away

At the floating bridge I wait
at hand the short telephoto
hoping to catch the muskrat

I’ve seen it rarely
small brown rodent in the rushes
shiny wet hairy junior football

Each time I see
it sees me too
I blink and it’s gone

In the bushes I detect
kinglets, hairy woodpeckers, finches
they too elude the camera

Halfway round luck changes
a hummingbird, tired of diving
rests close at hand, flashing green

The sun peeks in and out
the rainbow waxes and wanes
several runners pass

At the Garry Oak meadow something very tiny
another hummingbird
even smaller – maybe a Calliope

Sun in my eyes, I move down
into the grass to look for it
but it buzzes away

While I wait
from out of the trees
a Red Tailed Hawk appears

It makes a line
straight towards the tree
the lone tree it calls home

In the field I look up
there looping about the sky
an eagle soars

Perfectly lit by the low sun
the eagle circles
while I focus

Later on I reflect on pictures
the tiniest and the
mightiest of birds

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Filed under Birds, Photography, Poetry

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