March 14, 2025
Almost at peak, total eclipse of the moon.
David woke me up and told me to go out and look.  So I did.  Beautiful.  I stayed out for a half hour trying to photograph without a tripod.  C'est la vie.   Then I crawled back in my bed and EJ called to tell me to get out of bed and go look.  They were standing with friends in awe of the universe at 3:00 a.m. and I could not help loving it.

 
March 14, 2024

I love chickens, but this is the only chicken I have ever loved individually.  Beefsteak was taken from her coop with all the other chickens last week.  Such a sad event and I have not written about it because it is EJ's story to write in many ways.  But today, looking through memory photos, this one made me smile.  Thank you, Beefsteak, for all you did to make life a much better experience.  You were a goddess. I think you will come back to us in a new form.







60 degrees at the rookery today.  

Held By Vastness

A single vulture soars

over a freshly cleared meadow.

Snow has gone,

bluebirds sit in a single bush.

Breeze blows past me

in an even slow stream

Silence, but the bluebird’s call.

 

I am alone.

 

Last night the moon

high up in the sky

bright planets hung

in vast dark space.

The earth passed

in front, between the

sun and the full moon.

That full moon

a rose opaque six hours earlier,

now curtained in shadow

a red orange orb

 

I am alone.

 

Encircled in vastness

surrounded by an awe

so loud I cry.

So much bigger than I

so much more to know.

so much more to sense.

 

I am alone

My heart is not heavy.

I am sad,

folded into a large reality.

 

Just as I accept this

a herd of deer appear

over the edge of the meadow.

They know I am here.

Eight quiet gentle souls

slip into my view.

I am not alone.

 

They are not solemn

frisky, more aware

I love them

in the same way I loved

her voice at 3 a.m.

captured by the eclipse.


The deer find the stream

Joyfully frolic towards water

Out of sight

Bluebirds gone

Vulture passed through

I am alone

with love.








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