Time to tidy up our spring birding. This year, for the first time, about 55 double-crested cormorants rested in the two little “lakes” near our house. First time I’ve ever seen cormorants in this neck of Our Woods. We took flight before they did – left May 2 on a tour of 6 major cities that were formerly behind the “iron curtain.” Came back – with my head spinning – to find a pair of these distinguished looking divers still with us. They are apparently in numbers too great to be appreciated in the fine Ontario cottage country of Muskoka. And I finally got a decent photo of the yellow-rumped warbler before we flew away. We missed the peak of the spring warbler migration, and saw only one species yesterday. It was a female American redstart. Didn’t get a decent photo of it due to the lush May foliage. Saw two red-tailed hawks soaring high above us – a treat to see them enjoying 25 km air currents. Today the blue heron was still fishing, harassed by our plentiful red-winged blackbirds protecting their nests near the shore. So here are a few more photos before this blog moves on to the arts and architecture of Austria, Hungary, Poland, Germany and the Czech Republic.
Crocus laconique, saillant
Montre nous, les hommes
Comment passer sans rancoeur
Reflecting on this photo this morning (now Tuesday, two days after I posted this photo on Sunday) I realized that the tiny plant that had made me think so carefully since then deserved a poem. I wrote it in French mainly because the French “sans” saved me a syllable and thereby satisfied the rigor of the Haiku, but discovered that I liked the sound, lucidity and subtlety of what I could say in French much better than what I had produced in English. After posting this photo on Sunday, I have reflected long upon the flower’s shockingly short life in bloom and realized that little brother Crocus was rewarding me for my attention by teaching me a surprising lesson. The lessons for me were several (cyclicity, fleetingness, acceptance, grace, opportunity, attention, action, brilliance…) but I will highlight this one:
The beauty of the crocus bloom is made more precious by its very fleetingness.
Still more learning: Writing a poem with strict parameters is a process of discovery in any language. One is forced to forage around for the right word and the searching often reveals better words that don’t quickly come to mind. Continue reading “Crocus”