|
# / Author
|
|
CI
Hugh Bygott
|
Winter warbler —
so clear is its pure song
over the wither'd moor.
|
|
CII
Zhanna P. Rader
|
A crow on the lawn —
the mockingbird darts at it
again and again.
|
|
CIII
Hugh Bygott
|
Under the Bridge of Sighs
Black Swans drift, contained within themselves..
Winter nightfall.
|
| Cambridge, the Cam River, New Years Eve 2005 |
|
CIV
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Nesting time —
a house wren punches holes
in the finch's eggs.
|
|
CV
Hugh Bygott
|
Exquisitely poised,
motionless on the bare willow . . .
a Wren awaits her nest.
|
|
CVI
Vaughn Seward
|
a new life emerges
from a cracked shell...
baby blue egg
|
|
CVII
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Robins . . .
the grass is green only
around the birdbath.
|
|
CVIII
Hugh Bygott
|
Deserted garden . . .
a Robin on the sundial
changes the time.
|
|
CIX
Vaughn Seward
|
Engraved on the rim:
a bird in the bath, is worth
two in the hedge.
|
|
CX
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Christmas —
my little fir tree in the yard,
adorned by a cardinal.
|
|
CXI
Hugh Bygott
|
Winter reeds —
alone, remembering, a Mallard
models my world.
|
With acknowledgement to Lady Murasaki.
BHS XII:CXI and S&H XXVI:CCLVII should be read together. HB
S&H: CCLVII
Naked summer moon —
We slip into the dawn sea
. . . only grains of sand.
Hugh Bygott |
|
CXII
Vaughn Seward
|
christmas tree rubbish...
a sparrow picks at
bits of tinsel
|
|
CXIII
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Biting frost —
a jay pecks at the pinecones
I stuffed with suet
|
|
CXIV
Vaughn Seward
|
snowy field...
a crow settles upon
a dead tree
|
|
CXV
Hugh Bygott
|
Envious Jay —
winter feed for little birds
who swing with the fairy.
|
| An English company, Pastimes, makes Victorian memorabilia, and their garden ornaments often have fairies. My bird feeder is quite small and swings on a branch. A fairy sits on the feeder. This is a delight for small birds, but larger birds are constantly frustrated since they cannot alight. HB |
|
CXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Dawn . . .
the insistence
of the woodpecker...
|
Vaughn, what kind of birds do you have in your yard? Can you list them? Do you live in Canada? Zhanna.
P.S.
Speaking of woodpeckers... I belong to a limerick list, and one of the participants has just posted this limerick. (He gave me his permission to post any of his limericks any place.) I think it is funny. Zhanna :)
In a forest where birds live and roam
Is a petrified tree hard as chrome;
Holds a woodpecker's nest
That is faultless, the best.
And its name? The impeccable home.
Kirk Miller
Yes, I live in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. I am not a bird expert but I know we have at least the following here in the winter: sparrows, ravens, and magpies. There are several other winter species but I don't know their names. In the other seasons we have lots of different kings of birds including robins, bluejays, and seagulls...even hummingbirds. Some of them I have only heard but not seen.
P.S. Nice limerick. I wrote several limericks (clean ones) a number of years back and had a hoot writing them. Vaughn |
|
CXVII
Vaughn Seward
|
Bird feeder —
more seed on the ground
than in the stomach.
|
|
CXVIII
Hugh Bygott
|
Winter dawn —
a Stone Chat waits on the ledge . . .
first kitchen light.
|
|
CXIX
Zhanna P. Rader
|
The sparrows'
loud twittering —
scent of thawing snow ...
|
|
CXX
Vaughn Seward
|
Here, there, overhead...
flocks of snow buntings
all around!
|
|
CXXI
Hugh Bygott
|
In the sky's window,
departing geese silhouette
the orange light.
|
|
CXXII
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Gauzy film of clouds —
you can only hear them,
the geese.
|
|
CXXIII
Robert Wilson
|
a duck
floating on
the day moon
|
|
CXXIV
Vaughn Seward
|
Balanced
on her dad's feet...
penguin egg.
|
|
CXXV
Hugh Bygott
|
Balanced forever:
a wren on a Wang Wei scroll,
poised in spring light.
|
| Wang Wei [699 - 759] was a meditative poet-painter who loved communion with nature. Buson greatly admired his art. HB |
|
CXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
|
A heron's noticed
through the kitchen window —
her half-peeled potato...
|
|
CXXVII
Vaughn Seward
|
A magpie
on the dumpster lid...
cold morning.
|
|
CXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
|
On a black road
a crow,
blacker yet.
|
P.S. Speaking of crows, here are brand new Kirk Miller's limericks (for your entertainment):
Caw-Cophony of Puns
On the acorn the crow had long pecked.
Since he cawed and he clawed, you'd expect
Him to break through the shell.
He succeeded quite well;
An example of caws and effect.
The shrieks of the crow made him pause,
When down swooped the crow with its claws.
Since the bird that he fought
Was off course and distraught,
He was fighting, of course, a lost caws.
The bumblebee yearned for applause,
So learned a new language because
When he'd talk like a crow,
He could readily show
What he spoke, also why: just bee caws.
Kirk Miller |
|
CXXIX
Hugh Bygott
|
Dark ebb tide —
the sanderlings become fainter
under the storm clouds.
|
|
CXXX
Vaughn Seward
|
Mangrove forest...
a scarlet ibis roosts
in a muddy spot
|
|
CXXXI
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Winter-blooming cherry —
a titmouse pecks off
the blossoms.
|
| Our so-called winter-blooming cherry tree, that I planted some years ago, is now thick with bright pink blossoms. I noticed a titmouse pecking at them after making three high-pitched peeps each time. That was something new to me. Zhanna |
|
CXXXII
Vaughn Seward
|
Bohemian waxwings
descend on a mountain ash...
feeding frenzy.
|
|
CXXXIII
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Summer meadow —
the sun rainbow-paints
the grackles.
|
|
CXXXIV
Robert Wilson
|
that egret
stirring the water
with his shadow
|
|
CXXXV
Vaughn Seward
|
tenth floor window:
a crow drops...then
swoops down in an arc
|
|
CXXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
|
A flying flicker
bumps against my window pane...
sits long on the sill.
|
|
CXXXVII
Hugh Bygott
|
Evening temple bells —
moonflowers await their time
as ravens circle.
|
|
CXXXVIII
Vaughn Seward
|
Warm spell...
feathers ruffle in the
gentle breeze.
|
|
CXXXIX
Kala Ramesh
|
fishing nets . . .
heron's wings dip and rise
a slow deep beat
|
|
CXL
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Mid-February —
a cloud of red-winged blackbirds
descend on my lawn.
|
| I don't know how to express in a haiku what I saw and felt. I don't remember ever seeing red-winged blackbirds in our yard, in Athens, Georgia. (I've seen a lot of them in Nebraska.) As usually, I sat at my computer in a second-floor room, with my right side to a double-window. Suddenly, at approximately 4:45 p.m., I saw from the corner of my eye, something like a black cloud descending in our backyard. It was a real big flock of blackbirds. As they got to the withered grass, pecking at some grass or weed seeds (I assume), I noticed that all of them had thin yellowish bars (shoulder-straps) on their wings. The thickness of the flock was simply amazing. Interestingly, I noticed one grackle with its iridescent sheen on its black feathers. This bird is a little bigger than the red-winged blackbirds. All of a sudden, all the birds took wing - their bright red bars now wide and bright-red in the sun.. That was a breath-taking view. The birds perched on the trees surrounding the lawn. Then they descended again. They did that several time - going up and down, and the view of their red wings in flight so close to each other was amazing. Sometimes they flew towards me and over the house roof - quite a treat for my eyes. They visited our backyard for, perhaps, fifteen or twenty minutes. I see them at this moment through the trees, visiting the backyard of our neighbors across the small creek. Again, they are going up and down. Zhanna |
|
CXLI
Hugh Bygott
|
Fresh fumitory —
an inquisitive Wren compares
shades of pink.
|
|
CXLII
Vaughn Seward
|
Four, maybe five
tropical parulas...flit
from branch to branch.
|
| We visited Trinidad last autumn and stayed with some folks that live in a district that is within the boundaries of a bird sanctuary built by Texaco years ago. We enjoyed seeing (mostly hearing) many bird species. VHS |
|
CXLIII
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Late afternoon —
the heron's shadow
elongates.
|
|
CXLIV
ai... chibi
|
in flight
the starlings swerve as one:
spring dusk
|
|
CXLV
Hugh Bygott
|
Deserted garden —
a swallow rests on the dry fountain
at summer dusk.
|
|
CXLVI
Vaughn Seward
|
a great egret
hunts beneath a cypress:
wetland meadow
|
|
CXLVII
Vaughn Seward
|
Dardandelos Falls...
great dusky swifts
swarm in the canyon
|
This is based on a two-page photo in the February, 2006 National Geographic, about the 17th or 18th page:
http://tinyurl.com/egqc4 |
|
CXLVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
|
Late afternoon —
the mourning dove's cooing
stirs a spider web.
|
|
CXLIX
Hugh Bygott
|
Standing breast to breast,
a Crested Grebe offers to his partner . . .
How humanly delightful!
|
|
CL
Vaughn Seward
|
Great snipes make
croaking and bubbling calls:
biebrza marshes.
|
|