Morning truck sputters
Baby birds awake and sing
Rhythmic consistence
Showing posts with label birdsong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birdsong. Show all posts
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Day In Haiku
The forecast said, 'rain'
Yet bright blue met morning eyes
Confirmed by birdsong
Florence Ondré
Yet bright blue met morning eyes
Confirmed by birdsong
Florence Ondré
Friday, June 22, 2007
Friday, March 09, 2007
"Out On A Limb"
by Florence Ondré
Awakening to another day of wild winds, bitter cold and sunshine instead of snow, this March day also brings me sweet chirping in the symphony of branches dancing on my window screens.
Mother Birdsong amps up notch to octave notch, letting the world know that someone has interrupted her lullaby for her little ones. “Tweety tweet tweet,” warble back the Greek chorus of feathered cherubs, as they practice for their own symphonies to come. Rehearsal is necessary for all life’s performances.
I lay in my warm bed, covers keeping me toasty warm as I stretch and lean to peek at the show outside my shade, finding nothing unusual or interesting in the high branches of a yet-to-bud cherry blossom tree but a dark nest looking object which turns out to be, upon closer inspection, a deep, navy blue ball which has lodged in the outstretched limbs between my neighbor’s house and mine. A weird gift from the next door daily children’s chorus of laughter and shreiks; game playing and ball tossing; “Chatter, chatter, chatter.”
Kids- whether in trees, bushes or on the ground; feathered, furred or skinned are practicing something or other that will stand them in good stead as they grow.
I’m just up here on the second floor noticing…and smiling.
Awakening to another day of wild winds, bitter cold and sunshine instead of snow, this March day also brings me sweet chirping in the symphony of branches dancing on my window screens.
Mother Birdsong amps up notch to octave notch, letting the world know that someone has interrupted her lullaby for her little ones. “Tweety tweet tweet,” warble back the Greek chorus of feathered cherubs, as they practice for their own symphonies to come. Rehearsal is necessary for all life’s performances.
I lay in my warm bed, covers keeping me toasty warm as I stretch and lean to peek at the show outside my shade, finding nothing unusual or interesting in the high branches of a yet-to-bud cherry blossom tree but a dark nest looking object which turns out to be, upon closer inspection, a deep, navy blue ball which has lodged in the outstretched limbs between my neighbor’s house and mine. A weird gift from the next door daily children’s chorus of laughter and shreiks; game playing and ball tossing; “Chatter, chatter, chatter.”
Kids- whether in trees, bushes or on the ground; feathered, furred or skinned are practicing something or other that will stand them in good stead as they grow.
I’m just up here on the second floor noticing…and smiling.
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