Great Blue Heron: 2011
Great Blue Heron
I found her in her favorite morning fishing spot, though she grew angry and flew farther downstream before I had my camera ready. I readied my lens and crept to the top of the bank as off she flew!
This isn’t in a park or conservation area, this is right in the middle of Carnegie. I dropped my car off for service and walked back home, dipping down by the creek, studying a few industrial areas, walking down a few alleys instead of main streets and then walking on Main Street itself.
Chartiers Creek winds through the middle of town and beyond in both directions, and a colony of great blue herons nests about 11 miles away, considering the entirety of the creek’s channel as their hunting ground. For the most part the creek is less than a foot deep, and today the air turned slightly warmer again, warming the water and bringing out the small creek fish, carp and darters. The heron stands on the gravel on a shallow edge of the creek and as the fish swim between her legs she just reaches down with that long neck and picks them out of the water with her beak like tweezers.
When the heron is standing still in the water, she is so slender that she looks like a twig or thin tree branch standing up in the water. But when she decides to fly she is hard to miss as she looks like a prehistoric creature, some sort of pterodactyl, with her long beak, long hooked neck and immense wingspan, plus those long gangly legs. Not to mention she is quite blue.
Those big, long wings are so graceful that I can’t even describe it.
I’ve been playing in this creek since I was a child. Both the heron and the fish she eats are signs that a creek horribly polluted by industrial waste has found a new life. I’m glad to see it coming back.
Disagreement
Starlings
The starlings made a mess of the bird feeder, but they were certainly entertaining while they were at it. Heavens, the drama!
Grackle, 2011
Common Grackle
The grackles are back with their inky iridescent ebony bodies, long tails, perfect, round yellow eyes and squeaky hinge voices.
Grackles are social birds like starlings and you will rarely see one at a time; often you’ll see a dozen or more all marching imperiously about, talking loudly among themselves and gesticulating with their wings and beaks.
Oh, and their messy bird feeder habits. When they descend on your feeder or suet block, they don’t leave until nothing is left, which can happen in a surprisingly short period of time.
And they don’t like the competition of other birds, often knocking nestlings out of nests or attacking baby birds who can’t fly yet.
Nuisance birds they may be, they go where opportunity presents itself and take what they can get. They are truly striking to look at. I can think about some people we read about in tabloids who might fit this description.
Geese and Ripples
Geese
A sunny winter day with big clouds can offer interesting lighting; in this case a huge cloud traveled over the geese and me, while all around the sky was bright and the hills were lit by winter sun. All the light in this image is comes in at an angle and reflects onto the geese and water, cool winter light enhancing all the shades of blue as the geese calmly paddle along on Chartiers Creek in Carnegie.
Branch Sitters
Branch Sitters
Three doves sit quietly in the morning sun on the battered old branch over my garden. They often keep so still it’s difficult to tell them from the gnarls and patterns of the branch, long weathered and pecked by woodpeckers and chewed by squirrels into an abstract pattern all its own.
They remind me of the “bench sitters”, retired older men who, in good weather, sit on the benches along Main Street, quietly exchanging comments with each other now and then, happy enough for the quiet company of old friends.
Poem for Sunday: Things I Found in the Woods
A delicate fern frond reaches for the sun from last year’s dried stems.
Every year the winter opens up to a few days of warm intoxicating sun and mud in January or February, and I’ve run outside to celebrate the day. In 2012 it was February 5, two days after my 20-year-old tortoiseshell kitty Cookie died, and as I enjoyed the warm day and remembered this poem, I knew exactly what I wanted to create as a dedication to my faithful heart cat, my best friend.
I originally wrote this poem in 2006 for another senior Kitty, Moses, as I knew her body was failing and she had little time left, and in 2012 was glad to dedicate my first recording of one of my poems to Cookie, leading me to a new means of expression and sharing my creative efforts. I have a link to the recorded poem with slideshow at the end of this article along with a few notes about creating it. You can read and listen to the poem and also more about Cookie, Moses, and the creative inspirations of my feline muses in this post on The Creative Cat; here on Today I have only the poem and the recording.
Things I Found in the Woods
Dedicated to Moses, the most gentle, loving being I have ever encountered.
Tiny rivulets of water released from thawing soil
flowing beneath last year’s debris, trickling and gurgling all around
hurrying down hillsides before the freeze returns.
A cup-shaped fungus holding a tablespoon of snowmelt
for a song sparrow to sip, practicing its vernal melody
for the time when spring arrives in earnest.
Ferns, newly-green, draped on cliffs,
fluttering like garlands in the mild, caressing breeze
gathering a little nourishment to last the rest of the winter.
Fallen trees blanketed with bright green moss,
thick and lush already in the brief January thaw
filling a span of life in but a few days.
Four young white-tailed deer, capricious as the gusts,
feeling the flush of their first spring as adults
cavorting as if winter might not return tomorrow.
An understanding that life and love are cycles,
and that the moment must be taken for what it offers
even if what it offers is not what we expect.
The strength and courage to show as much dignity as you,
and to walk this last precious part of your path with you
and when I can walk no more beside you
to let you go.
“Things I Found in the Woods” © 2006 Bernadette E. Kazmarski
I had never before experienced the spring thaw in such wonderment at the transience of life—still winter but everything that lived was taking advantage of the moment.
So was Moses. So should I.
So I resolved just to let her follow her course and she would let me know what to do.
Listen to the Poem
I have always enjoyed reading my poetry to others, and had always wanted to try a little multi-media project including a slideshow of photos with narration. In February 2012 I lost my 20-year-old kitty Cookie, my best friend from practically the day she joined my household as a rescue and who spent many long days and nights over those years staying by my side as I found my creative life; I created this first recorded presentation in honor of her.
There are no photos of Cookie or any other cats in this; though I wrote it for Moses and dedicate this project to Cookie, it is what I found I feel about love, loss, and letting go. I was led to this knowledge, of course, by my cats. Thank you, my feline muses, as always, for showing me the way.
It’s also not timed quite right as some of the groups of images are shorter or longer than the stanza. Some of the photos I included at the end are from significant moments, for instance, the asters on Cookie’s picnic table bench from a morning Cookie and I were in the yard last October, the “Wolf Moon” in the bare tree and the sunset with the evening stars references to my mother who also passed last year at this time. Coordinating, more or less, with the second verse, the forsythia with the tiny song sparrow in the middle of it is actually from the morning of February 2 as I held Cookie on my lap and knew her process of dying had begun; it was the day of transition from winter to spring and all the birds were singing their spring songs, and a song sparrow landed very near to us and sang for a while.
I could have gotten a better microphone too, but I will stop explaining and making excuses, and I hope you enjoy it. Watch the video below or click here to see the video on YouTube, “Things I Found in the Woods”.
“Things I Found in the Woods” recording © 2012 Bernadette E. Kazmarski
I read this poem as part of my 2008 annual poetry reading and art exhibit, “Winter Twilight”.
Read more poetry here on Today or visit my poetry page to see more about my poetry and other writing, and to purchase Paths I Have Walked.
Paths I Have Walked, collected poems.
I’m proud to offer a folio of my poetry
Paths I Have Walked: the poetry and art of Bernadette E. Kazmarski
FROM FOUR ANNUAL POETRY READINGS AT ANDREW CARNEGIE FREE LIBRARY & MUSIC HALL IN CARNEGIE, PA
People who attended one or more of my poetry readings encouraged me to publish some of my poetry in a book from the beginning.
Once I completed my 2010 poetry reading, my fourth featuring the final piece of artwork in the “Art of the Watershed” series, I decided it was time to publish something and it should be those four poetry readings.
Poetry books are not best-sellers; it’s difficult to convince a publisher to risk effort on a beginning poet, and while self-publishing is the best option it’s not inexpensive and once you’ve got the book, someone’s got to market it. Plus, I’m a graphic designer and I designed books for years, and I want things my way.
All of this is a recipe for a little bit of trouble, but I decided the book was well worth the effort so I designed the book myself and had a set printed—no ISBN or anything formal, but it’s a start! I’m really excited to offer it.
Books are 4.25″ x 11″, 40 pages of information and poetry, with glossy covers featuring “Dusk in the Woods” and little thumbnails of all four pieces in “Art of the Watershed”.
$8.00 each plus $2.50 shipping (they are oversized for mailing first class).
You can order one on my poetry page, or in my Marketplace.
About the books and the poetry readings
My biggest inspiration for poetry, prose and artwork is the world right around me, and I enjoy the opportunity to share it from the perspective of one who walks and hikes and bikes and carries a camera, art materials and journal everywhere—even around the house—so the inspirations are fresh.
In December, 2006, two of my poems were chosen to be published on a section of the Prairie Home Companion website entitled “Stories From Home/First Person” for submissions of writing about the place we feel most familiar. I’m a long-time listener to PHC and reader of Garrison Keillor’s books as well as a daily listener to The Writer’s Almanac featuring news about writers and writing and of interest to writers as well as a poem, all compiled and read by Keillor himself. I was astonished to find my poems were among the first chosen from apparently thousands, and so happy to be able to share them with a potential audience of so many similarly inclined writers and readers.
My poetry readings and art exhibits were the vision of Maggie Forbes, executive director of the Andrew Carnegie Free Library & Music Hall, after learning of my publishing of those two
poems. I owe her many thanks for encouraging me to present this combination of my visual and literary art, a first for me. I love that building, every inch of it, and the opportunity to bring people in to visit is an honor.
Valentine’s Day, a Photo and Poem
Valentine’s Day Breakfast for the Lovers
What bird matches the colors of Valentine’s Day more than the American Cardinal, especially that bright red male cardinal? The female is a browner shade and it might seem unfair that the male gets to be so showy while she is somewhat drab, but the female sits on the eggs while the male flies around as a distraction to predators, literally risking his life to make sure his lady and the next generation are safe.
Valentine’s Day
This morning the male cardinal let the female eat first after what seemed some courteous encouragement on his part, then before I could photograph all birds disappeared as the Cooper’s Hawk landed in the maple tree. So much for the annual Valentine’s Day cardinal photo. The photo above is from 2012; I let PhotoShop combine the two photos I had taken of the cardinals because I couldn’t fit them into one shot. I’m not sure what it did with the missing tree branches, but at least the cardinals are where they should be!
All birds are pairing off already, as this couple of cardinals to the right demonstrate. This usually begins soon after February 2, that magic day when winter changes over to spring and all the creatures feel the stirring of the cycle, including the groundhog. The young cardinals have been showing off with spectacular aeronautics through the trees and all over the backyard, which is lower than my house so I get to see them from the top with the sun shining full on their feathers.
On several different occasions in the spring I had seen a male cardinal run off to the feeder to get a sunflower seed and bring it back to his lady, offering it with a bow. One of these occasions happened to be Valentine’s Day a few years ago. Honestly, I’m not anthropomorphizing (interpreting animal activity by human traits), because I later read in an article about birds that this is a ritual that cardinal couples undertake during courting.
I wrote a poem about it after reading the explanation. Happy Valentine’s Day.
Valentine’s Day
He doesn’t have to give this gift to her
and she doesn’t have to receive it
as she could easily feed herself
but she perches on a branch
while he flies to the feeder
grasps a sunflower seed
and flies back to perch next to her;
they tilt their heads as if to kiss
as she accepts this seed of his love,
the bright red cardinal’s first act of courtship
to his dark red mate
on Valentine’s Day.
“Valentine’s Day” © 2008 Bernadette E. Kazmarski
I read this poem as part of my 2008 annual poetry reading and art exhibit, “Winter Twilight”.
Read more poetry here on Today or visit my poetry page to see more about my poetry and other writing, and to purchase Paths I Have Walked.
Paths I Have Walked, collected poems.
I’m proud to offer a folio of my poetry
Paths I Have Walked: the poetry and art of Bernadette E. Kazmarski
FROM FOUR ANNUAL POETRY READINGS AT ANDREW CARNEGIE FREE LIBRARY & MUSIC HALL IN CARNEGIE, PA
People who attended one or more of my poetry readings encouraged me to publish some of my poetry in a book from the beginning.
Once I completed my 2010 poetry reading, my fourth featuring the final piece of artwork in the “Art of the Watershed” series, I decided it was time to publish something and it should be those four poetry readings.
Poetry books are not best-sellers; it’s difficult to convince a publisher to risk effort on a beginning poet, and while self-publishing is the best option it’s not inexpensive and once you’ve got the book, someone’s got to market it. Plus, I’m a graphic designer and I designed books for years, and I want things my way.
All of this is a recipe for a little bit of trouble, but I decided the book was well worth the effort so I designed the book myself and had a set printed—no ISBN or anything formal, but it’s a start! I’m really excited to offer it.
Books are 4.25″ x 11″, 40 pages of information and poetry, with glossy covers featuring “Dusk in the Woods” and little thumbnails of all four pieces in “Art of the Watershed”.
$8.00 each plus $2.50 shipping (they are oversized for mailing first class).
You can order one on my poetry page, or in my Marketplace.
About the books and the poetry readings
My biggest inspiration for poetry, prose and artwork is the world right around me, and I enjoy the opportunity to share it from the perspective of one who walks and hikes and bikes and carries a camera, art materials and journal everywhere—even around the house—so the inspirations are fresh.
In December, 2006, two of my poems were chosen to be published on a section of the Prairie Home Companion website entitled “Stories From Home/First Person” for submissions of writing about the place we feel most familiar. I’m a long-time listener to PHC and reader of Garrison Keillor’s books as well as a daily listener to The Writer’s Almanac featuring news about writers and writing and of interest to writers as well as a poem, all compiled and read by Keillor himself. I was astonished to find my poems were among the first chosen from apparently thousands, and so happy to be able to share them with a potential audience of so many similarly inclined writers and readers.
My poetry readings and art exhibits were the vision of Maggie Forbes, executive director of the Andrew Carnegie Free Library & Music Hall, after learning of my publishing of those two
poems. I owe her many thanks for encouraging me to present this combination of my visual and literary art, a first for me. I love that building, every inch of it, and the opportunity to bring people in to visit is an honor.
Colorful
Colorful in Winter
Colors, colors, colors in the dark days of winter. Everything reflects on the rippling water, especially the bright blue sky from one angle and the brightly-lit hillside of auburn tree trunks and oak leaves. Love the orange foot on the duck, who’s giving one web foot a break.
I spent a good bit of time watching the ducks and geese on Chartiers Creek, feeling lucky that I have such a place to go and spend some quiet, meditative and creative time.
Song Sparrow at Dusk
Song Sparrow at Dusk
A few birds always gather at dusk to find their last meal for the night, and there is always enough seed on the ground for them to feed, dangerous though it is. One little song sparrow balances on a branch near the ground to scout for the best spot before dropping down to eat. A male and female sparrow joined him in the gathering darkness.
I’ve always liked a song sparrow’s little round and striped body. Below is the same song sparrow in a view from the front.
Song Sparrow
Squirrel Snack
Stuffing his cheeks full.
I complain about the squirrels and yell insults out the door when they yank down one of my feeders or chew through them to make big leaky holes, but they can be darned cute. This guy is sitting in a snowstorm nibbling on his squirrel corn, good boy, protecting himself from the wind and wet snow with his tail.
Where to next?
Where to next?
What Are You Looking At?
What Are You Looking At?
If you know wrens, they can be a little bossy and territorial. This wren seeing her reflection would definitely challenge another wren in her water bowl. They are such little birds but absolutely imperious, and can make more noise than a bird twice their size. I think they try to make up for appearing to be cute by being very starchy.
Silly Wren
Silly Wren
Wrens always have to be different. I think this little one was overwhelmed by the choice of feeders on the deck.
The First Wave
The First Wave
Of course, we can never see the signal, but the front line floating down Chartiers Creek in Carnegie suddenly took flight and flew 100 yards or so upstream, leaving those behind milling around, trying to decide if they should do the same. Eventually the did. Perhaps there was a mark somewhere on the creek floor and a system set up that only geese understand.
Going South
Going South.
A small flock of geese hurrying south.
I’ve seen more flocks in this arrangement, with one long arm and just one or two geese on the short side. I can’t remember if I’ve seen this many before.
Seeing gees flying in a “V” got me thinking about the things we learn that are dependably the same, every year, every day, every time. Usually these things occur in nature, with all its infinite variety, still the geese fly south in a “V” shape, and the sun rises in the east and sets in the west.
“Across the purple sky, all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it’s time for them to go?”
“Who Knows Where the Time Goes?”, Sandy Denny
Camouflage, 2011
Camouflage
I only noticed her because about five of my cats were very quietly clustered near the front door, keeping very still, which is very unusual for them. I saw nothing until I walked outside, and I realize she must have been grazing around under the birch and froze when I came out. Her stillness made for a good shot in that shadow, though if I didn’t have an eye for details she would have been perfectly camouflaged.
Find the Killdeer in This Picture, 2010
Find the Killdeer in the Picture
There are six killdeer in this photo, cleverly camouflaged in their natural living and nesting habitat of rocks and pebbles in moving water.
I had focused on one of the birds, and saw a few others, but it wasn’t until I downloaded the images and opened them on my monitor that I saw all the others. Clever camouflage!
I took the photo along Chartiers Creek in Carnegie.
A story about killdeer actually inspired me to set up this daily photo blog, and they are the subject of my very first post on this blog: http://bernadettestoday.wordpress.com/2009/06/23/a-fathers-day-drama/. All birds are the centers of their own universes, but the killdeer’s self-absorption is comical—the parent birds do the “broken wing” routine with suspected predators, and it’s not at all convincing, especially when they are nesting in the gravel of the train tracks that run right through town. But I will admit, they are darned difficult to spot if they’re not moving.
Owl Eyes, 2010
Martha the Great Horned Owl
This is Martha, a Great Horned Owl rescued by the Wildlife Center at the Animal Rescue League Shelter and Wildlife Center of Western Pennsylvania. She’d apparently had one of her wings hit by a car as she was scavenging road kill, and the wing had begun to heal by the time she was rescued. A bird’s bones can’t be rebroken and set, so they just had to let it heal on its own, though the bone was twisted. She can’t fly so she can’t be released, but she’s a fairly willing demonstration owl for the Wildlife Center.
The Hawk at Sunset
Hawk at Sunset
Such a simple composition, but so much there, the last colors blending warm and cool, the geometry of the post, wires and fixtures, and the hawk, silent in the evening breeze.
Goosewalking
Goosewalking.
No, not a goose walking on your grave, just the resident Canada geese who normally hang out on the other side of this intersection by the creek crossing in their own good time at the West Busway and Campbell’s Run Road. They kind of didn’t use the crosswalk. All traffic stops for them while they ponder the meaning of their existence and mumble quietly among themselves.
I was on my bike returning from an early-morning run to the grocery store. They don’t care for bikes rolling among them so I walked my bike toward them, taking photos—and it’s not as if they don’t know me, they see me nearly every day—but I walked my bike around the outside of the group to kind of herd them off the main road. They were fine with that.
Undecided Geese
Undecided Geese
The Canada geese were paddling along on Chartiers Creek as I made my late afternoon errands and they generally move with grace and composition, but they got all bunched up as they were going under the bridge—I think it was because the bridge has a pier in the center and some of them decided to go on the other side…and these guys just couldn’t decide what to do.
Then some goose took the initiative and everyone got in line. Geese like to know where they stand, or paddle.
Decided Geese
Hey…
Hey, wait a minute…
The geese were paddling along in formation on Chartiers Creek, but it looked to me as if one of them had another idea.
Hummingbird
Hummingbird
From last summer about this time, I think she is a wonderful welcome to July!
A female rubythroat peruses purple irises. There was plenty of red and pink in a friend’s garden, but I guess she decided to try a different flavor.
This shot could have been steadier if I’d been using my tripod, or change the shutter speed and other manual settings, but it was all I could do to grab my camera in time, zoom in and let my camera autofocus. Still, having a stucco wall behind to add light and define the subject helped to hold the focus in one spot.
A Father’s Day Drama
Look at those legs!
Ahead of me on the Panhandle Trail just after the Oakdale crossing it suddenly looked as if the gravel was moving on its own. I was hot and a little tired but as I slowed I realized it wasn’t the gravel at all but a little family of killdeer out for a walk, two adults and three little ones.
Killdeer are related to sandpipers, so picture the long thin legs, narrow horizontal bodies and long beaks. You’ve no doubt heard a bird call a high-pitched “kill-deer! kill-deer!” just about anywhere but especially near water, even along the rivers in the city.
They nest in gravel, usually along streams, because their food source, insects are plentiful at the water’s edge. However, they will adapt to any gravel if a food source is near, and I’ve even seen them nesting in gravel between the rails of the railroad track. Their coloring, grey and tan with dark brown stripes around the neck and eyes, blends them in with the gravel, a perfect camouflage.
Until they start to move. Anyone seeing moving bits of gravel move around should at least look a little closer, and you may see the little ones, just a puff of soft feathers atop long skinny legs, marked just like their parents in miniature and just as loud as their parents but just saying the second syllable of their name only.
As soon as I stopped my bicycle and pulled out my camera, the little ones turned left and away from me, bibbling away in the opposite direction toward home, while their parents each did the “broken wing trick”—slowly hobbling along dragging one outspread wing as if they were injured, trying to lead me away from their babies and their nest.
Mind you, this family had just been dodging bicycles, but moving objects don’t really frighten them, only big ones that stop and look at them.
As soon as the babies were safely near their little crossover point, their parents joined them, making loud, sharp warning sounds.
And from here, it’s easy to anthropomorphize, especially when there are parent birds and baby birds involved. Even if they aren’t thinking and saying what humans would in this case, some things are universal, and the little drama probably went on like this…
All was well until one little guy decided he wasn’t quite ready to go home yet, and turned around and ran off, his little legs moving so fast he appeared to be hovering an inch or so above the ground.
Baby killdeer on the move!
Dad wasn’t happy. Apparently he had decided this was one day the kids should listen to him. But where had he gone? Perfect camouflage all around, the little one had disappeared.
He spotted the little guy and began trying to gently guide him back toward the crossover, which was quite a distance away. The little one would have none of it.
Then he tried to show the little guy how to cross the ditch, a much shorter route. Even a sibling, who had already crossed over, came to the other side of the barrier, calling to the little one (but probably yelling “chicken!”, as siblings will do…do birds call each other “chicken”?).
“Not me!” the little one said, probably a good decision since climbing or hopping over a 12-inch concrete barrier would be quite a feat for something the size of two cotton balls running around on toothpicks.
Then he realized he was all alone, and stopped.
Suddenly Dad was there, flying back and forth and landing to lead the little one to the other end of the barrier, standing on the other side and making, instead of the usual sharp warning sound, a soft, comforting chirring sound.
He finally led the little bit all the way down to the other end of the concrete barrier and convinced him to cross through the weedy strip where the concrete barrier ended, and they all made a ruckus when they got together again on the other side.
Then they blended into the pile of gravel on the other side of the barrier. Hope Dad had a good Father’s Day.
