Bohemian Waxwings

Bohemian Waxwings

Nomadic

you follow the fruit

swallow your pleasures whole.

Photos and words copyright 2015 Carol Steel

Snow and Ice

The bird feeders wear ice lace, snow hats and icicles. 

My neighbour told me we've had over

twelve feet of snow this winter.

The ducks sit on the snow banks waiting for breakfast 

and are nearly eye level with us, as we sit at the kitchen table.

Our yard is waves and troughs of snow, a seascape of white.

It's all lovely but I'm weary of wading through snow 

and snow and snow.

Come See

Blue Jays lunch on cracked corn leftovers scattered on spruce. In discovery and discussion, they are screaming children at play. Come see, come see.

Winter Goes On

 "My snow bank is higher than yours."

This refrain, this relentless winter,

a season of snow measured

in vertical feet.

Despite our whining, the winter offers 

woods of magic shadows and light.

The chickadees and blue jays

fill trees with the chattering joy 

of their daily rounds.

Icicles form 

on eaves and porches,

 on the north side of the bird feeders,

the elbows of trees.

Winter is 

what winter is.

Snow and cold

and so much beauty.

Snow, Not Funny Anymore

Snow and snow and snow...

Message

The crow's voice sounds clear

in the cold. A pigeon lies

 dead on the snow.

Words and photos copyright 2015 Carol Steel