My neighbor’s back porch looks like a cabinet of curiosities.
Note from an eBird user: American tree sparrow seen near artificial flowers at roadside memorial.
Church bells in the morning. Train whistle at night.
I follow a falling leaf almost all the way to the ground before realizing it’s not a bird.
The day is a glass marble being rolled toward the light.
Cardinal: You glow like a ruby in a tarnished ring.
A tree grows inside an old silo.
We just rescued a yellow-rumped warbler who was stuck in a park toilet.
American robin: You look like a stone fruit.
Spurred by a crow’s alert, more than thirty cedar waxwings shook off the Bradford pear in which they had flickered and lolled.
Meadowlarks bound through a freshly cut field as if directing a singalong.
Brown creeper: You look like a small knot on this Brobdingnagian tree.
In the quiet field, flying sparrows sound like cards being riffle-shuffled.
Western meadowlark: You’ve thrown your drab office blazer over your couture evening dress.
I look up to see the birds in my yard flying between bubbles. I look over to see a neighbor and her child playing with a soap bubble machine.
Canada goose: On takeoff, your wings sound like umbrellas opening and closing at full tilt.
Chickadee at Old Longview Lake: Your deformed foot doesn’t keep you from vaulting like an aerialist.
I saw an orange house finch today. I think this is the fellow who sings me awake each morning.
The blue jays seem to be testing shell peanuts for weight before making their selections.
Twenty-eight robins just landed in my sweetgum tree.
Two house sparrows fight over a feather.
Evening: The birds darken.
Two Carolina wrens hunt for spiders in my silver maple’s trunk flares.
This is the best thing I’ve read all day: “Carolina wrens defend their territories with constant singing.”
It’s not a ghost / which keeps you up at night / It’s certainty — Jeff Schwaner